I stared at the shimmering interface, my mind whirring like a high-speed processor. The "Silent Inquisition" was a death sentence, and waiting for them to arrive at our doorstep was a fool's errand. I needed to sever the head of the snake before it could strike.
I pressed Option B: The Counter-Strike.
"Bro—I mean, Butler," I corrected myself quickly, the slip of the tongue almost costing me the secret. I looked at him, my heart heavy with the risk I was asking him to take. "Go with the Golden Mask. Intercept the Inquisition's commander. Strike while the trail is still hot."
"As you command, Young Master," he replied. For a fleeting second, his eyes softened—a silent promise from an older brother to a younger one. Then, the "Viper" returned. He signaled the Golden Mask, and they vanished into the shadows of the estate like a wisp of smoke.
I turned to the children, who were watching me with wide, uncertain eyes. "Ezekiel, listen to me. Your only job is to protect Olivia and Liam. Do not leave their side."
I led them deep into the manor, past the library and through a trick bookshelf into a reinforced secret room. "Stay here. Do not come out until I personally call for you."
Once they were safely hidden, I made my way to my father's study. I didn't knock softly this time; I pushed the doors open. He was sitting at his desk, his golden eyes glowing in the dim light as if he had been expecting me.
"I see you've come," he rumbled, his voice thick with the weight of the coming war.
"Yes. I need your help, Father," I said, letting a bit of the exhaustion show in my voice. I was the Mastermind, but in this world of monsters and kings, I was still a fragile vessel of 20 Strength. "I am too weak to stop the King alone."
My father looked at me for a long moment, then reached into a locked obsidian box on his desk. He pulled out a weathered, yellowed piece of parchment sealed with a crest that no longer flew over the capital.
"Here," he said, handing it to me. "This was given to me by the late King—the true King—before he passed. It is a Royal Decree of Sanctuary. Even that snake on the throne won't be able to touch you if you force him to see this in front of his court. It is the one thing he fears: the law of his predecessor."
"Thank you, Father," I whispered, clutching the paper. It felt heavier than lead.
I didn't waste another second. I headed to the estate's private vault and pulled out a rare, glowing Teleportation Stone. The mana hummed against my palms, vibrating through my 21 Agility frame.
"Teleport me to the Royal Castle," I commanded, my voice cold and steady.
The stone erupted in a blinding white light. The familiar scenery of the Aurelion estate dissolved, replaced by the suffocating, opulent scent of incense and old stone.
When the light faded, I was standing in the center of the Grand Hall. Above me, the high arches of the castle loomed like the ribcage of a beast. Guards immediately leveled their halberds at my throat, but I didn't flinch.
I looked up at the throne, where the man who had tried to kill my family sat in stunned silence.
"I believe we have matters to discuss, Your Majesty," I said, raising the late King's letter.
[ALERT: HIGH-STAKES NEGOTIATION INITIATED]
Current Luck: 150/200.
Intelligence: 100/200.
Warning: One wrong word will trigger a massacre.
The Grand Hall felt like a tomb. The King looked down at me from his elevated throne, his eyes filled with a disgust so thick I could almost taste it. To him, I was just a fly that had dared to buzz into his web.
"I see you still have tricks up your sleeves," he sneered, looking at me as if I were something worse than a cockroach beneath his boot.
"Your Majesty," I said, my voice steady despite the jagged edge of a royal guard's blade pressing against my throat. A thin line of crimson began to trickle down my neck, staining my collar. I didn't flinch. "I urge you to please call back your forces. This letter, written by the late King himself, contains words that can prevent a catastrophe, and calm your anger."
The King's laughter echoed off the high marble arches, a cold, mocking sound that rattled my bones. "Hahaha! You Aurelions are still hiding behind that old fool's ghost, I see." He gestured lazily to the knights. "Come. Hand it over."
The steel left my throat as the knights stepped back, their swords still drawn but lowered. I stepped forward. But as I reached for the parchment, my fingers brushed against a small pouch I had discovered while searching for the teleportation stone.
Sleeper's Dust. An undetectable powder from the old world. It wouldn't work immediately, it needed time to absorb through the skin, but once it did, the victim would fall into a slumber that no physician could break. As I unfolded the letter, I subtly coated the edges of the heavy parchment with the fine, invisible powder.
"Here you go, Your Majesty," I said, bowing low as I handed him the document.
"Let's see what that old man had to say from the grave," he grunted, snatching the paper. As he read, his face contorted from smugness to pure, unadulterated rage. "WHAT?! That old man... he still has guts even after he's dead!"
He slammed the letter onto the arm of his throne, his palm pressing firmly against the treated edges. He looked at me, his chest heaving. Whatever was in that letter, a secret decree or a final warning. It had struck a nerve.
"Go," he growled, waving me away like a nuisance. "Leave before I change my mind and have your head on a spike regardless of what this paper says."
"Thank you for your mercy, Your Majesty," I replied, keeping my face a mask of humble relief.
I didn't wait for a second invitation. I crushed the teleportation stone in my palm, and the world warped once more.
I reappeared in the quiet lobby of the Aurelion estate. The air was still, but the scent of iron was heavy. Sebastian was standing there, waiting. His tailcoat was torn, and dark blood was splattered across his chest and face. The counter-strike had been a success, but a messy one.
"Young Master," he said, his voice raspy as he welcomed me home.
"Stop, Sebastian," I said, raising a hand. I looked at the gore covering him—the evidence of the "Viper's" work. "Go and change first. Wash the blood off. I don't want the kids to see you like that."
He paused, glancing down at himself.
"They have already seen enough blood for one lifetime," I continued, thinking of the three children huddled in the secret room. "I don't want them to get used to it just yet. They are still kids. They deserve to live like it for at least one more night."
Sebastian bowed, a look of grim understanding in his eyes. "As you wish, Master Erik."
I watched him walk away, then slumped against the wall. I had poisoned a King and saved a Prince, but the clock was now ticking.
The 72-Hour Window: The "Sleeper's Dust" will take full effect in three days. Until then, the King is still in power, but he will soon be incapacitated. You have 150 TP (from your successful gamble) to use before the chaos begins.