Franco's POV

As soon as Franco received the nome of the Inquisitor assigned to Hafenstadt, he abruptly dismissed the entire assembly. There was no time to linger away from the city; urgent action was required. Without hesitation, he swiftly arranged for one of his fastest carriages and began the journey back to Hafenstadt.

'This is my chance,' he thought angrily, his fists clenched tightly as the carriage jolted over the road. 'I won't let a mad zealot like Marco destroy everything I've built.'

The other nobles remained at the manor, still with the option to negotiate among themselves and discuss their own agendas in the absence of their host. Yet Franco bore the weight of a crucial element in the planned coup, only he possessed the knowledge and influence to prepare what was needed.

Thus, only two individuals occupied the carriage hurtling toward Hafenstadt: Franco and Lucius, one of the few nobles whom Franco believed possessed both intellect and utility.

Though perhaps he's not entirely sane, Franco mused occasionally, recalling the rumors that shrouded Lucius's estate.

Whispers abounded of lavish parties and secretive gatherings that bordered on the scandalous. Tales of indulgence and arcane rituals circulated among the elite, painting Lucius as a man who dabbled in the forbidden. Despite numerous witnesses to his extravagant excesses, he had never faced repercussions, a testament to his power of manipulation and control.

"I have a communication crystal prepared to contact the Order," Lucius offered abruptly, breaking the silence that had settled between them since receiving the unsettling news.

"Then we'll use yours," Franco replied, relief mingled with urgency in his voice. "Mine isn't recharged."

Long-distance communication was a rarity, with enchanted crystals serving as one of the few methods to bridge vast distances instantaneously. However, their use required an exorbitant amount of mana, energy that had to be painstakingly replenished over time. Franco had depleted his own crystal days prior to confirm the arrival date of the Inquisitors and hadn't yet restored its power.

The carriage raced along the winding road, the horses' hooves pounding relentlessly against the hardened earth.

'It was my mistake. I should have prepared for this possibility,' Franco thought, a deep scowl etched across his face as realization dawned on the grave error he had committed. His knuckles whitened as he tightened his grip on the ornate cane he carried. The world around him blurred; the steady drone of Lucius's explanations faded into a distant hum. All he could see was red, a haze of anger clouding his vision.

The carriage rattled along the cobblestone streets, drawing closer to Lucius's mansion. The building was secluded in the farthest reaches of the Noble Quarter. Its remote location ensured that prying eyes remained at bay, and the comings and goings of its visitors went unnoticed by the rest of Hafenstadt's elite.

As the carriage came to an abrupt halt before the grand iron gates, both nobles disembarked without delay. They spared no words for their attendants, who hastened to manage the horses and carriage. The urgency propelled them forward, boots thudding heavily against the marble steps leading up to the mansion's imposing entrance.

Crossing the threshold into the opulent foyer, they moved with hurry, ascending the staircase lined with portraits of stern-faced ancestors whose gazes seemed to follow them.

They arrived at the communication chamber on the second floor, a stark contrast to the lavishness of the rest of the manor. The room was dimly lit, the only illumination emanating from a single chandelier suspended above a large, round table crafted from dark mahogany. The décor was minimalistic: heavy drapes covered the windows, and the walls were bare except for intricate patterns carved directly into the stone.

Franco lowered himself into one of the high-backed chairs, the leather creaking softly under his weight. He tapped his fingers impatiently on the tabletop, his gaze fixed on nothing in particular as he awaited Lucius's preparations. His mind raced with contingency plans, but the gnawing frustration lingered.

Lucius lingered by the door, murmuring instructions to his servants in hushed tones. His demeanor was calm, almost leisurely. Finally, the door swung open to admit the mage, a necessary component for establishing the connection between the communication crystals.

Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

At the mage's entrance, Franco felt his stomach twist violently, a wave of nausea washing over him. A visceral urge to retch clutched at his insides, and he swallowed hard to suppress it. The mage appeared unremarkable at first glance, a man of average height and build, garbed in simple robes devoid of any insignia or ornamentation. His head was bowed, and he moved with a measured, deliberate grace.

But as the mage drew closer, the true nature of his condition became horrifyingly apparent. Where his eyes should have been were sunken hollows, the lids closed over empty sockets scarred by crude stitching. His mouth was a thin line, but the absence of movement suggested more than mere silence; upon closer inspection, it was clear that his tongue had been severed, evidenced by the faint, jagged scar trailing from the corner of his lips.

'All this for the sake of privacy,' Franco mused internally, a conflicting swirl of emotions knotting within him. There was a twisted admiration for Lurizio's dedication to secrecy, an acknowledgment of the lengths to which the noble would go to safeguard their machinations. Yet, beneath that, a profound sense of revulsion churned in his gut. The mage was rendered utterly incapable of seeing or speaking, transformed into the perfect conduit for their clandestine communications, a living tool stripped of autonomy.

The mage approached the table without hesitation, his movements guided by some unseen force or perhaps a deep familiarity with the room's layout. He extended his hands over the center of the table, palms upturned. A faint glow emanated from his fingertips as he started the ritual. The crystal set upon the table began to levitate gently, suspended above its stand.

Tendrils of mana, ethereal and shimmering with hues of indigo and silver, wove their way around the crystal, binding the mage's intent to the apparatus. The air hummed with arcane resonance, a subtle vibration that prickled against the skin. Franco watched intently as the energies coalesced, the crystal now pulsing with an inner light.

Within moments, the translucent sphere projected an image above it, a wavering silhouette that gradually sharpened into the figure of a cloaked individual. The person's face were obscured by a deep hood, shadows concealing all but the faint glint of eyes that seemed to pierce through the veil. The connection was established.

"Franco," the figure intoned, the voice distorted slightly by the magical transmission but unmistakably authoritative.

"I told you we wouldn't be communicating again," the figure on the other side of the crystal declared, his voice cold and edged with irritation. "These transmissions can be intercepted. They could expose our entire plan."

Franco scowled, his grip tightening on the ornate cane he held, knuckles whitening beneath fine leather gloves.

"You didn't adhere to our agreement," Franco retorted sharply, his eyes narrowed with barely restrained anger. "The Scourge of the Gods was not supposed to be in charge of this operation."

"You have no choice in the matter," the voice replied, a hint of icy impatience seeping through. The figure remained obscured by the magical haze, features hidden beneath a hooded cloak. "The Order is sending him. Be grateful that we're supporting you at all."

"Grateful? Grateful?" Franco's voice rose, echoing slightly in the secluded chamber. "We've supplied you with gold upon gold. We've upheld our end of the bargain. We don't need to be grateful; we need results." He leaned forward, his face contorted with frustration. "The Scourge of the Gods is infamous for laying waste to entire cities. What good is your 'support' if I manage to remove Maria von Hafenstadt only to rule over a smoldering ruin?"

"Franco," the voice said warningly, each syllable clipped. "You're misunderstanding our relationship. We are not negotiating. I am aiding you." A pause hung in the air, heavy and threatening. "If you prefer, we can withdraw from your region, and you may proceed without our backing."

"Your 'aid' is worthless," Franco snapped, his temper flaring. "You're eager to infiltrate the Empire; Hafenstadt would be your foothold, a gateway for your expansion. Don't presume to back me into a corner when it's you who stands to gain."

There was a moment of tense silence. Then, the voice responded, colder than before. "You will regret this insolence. He is the perfect Inquisitor for the task at hand. However, if you're incapable of appreciating his value, I'll order him to return after completing the next goal. The other Inquisitors will remain."

"Fine," Franco conceded through gritted teeth. "Inform them that they are to stay only until we've secured the head of Maria von Hafenstadt."

As the final words left his lips, a faint sound interrupted the heavy silence, a soft thud, like a small object falling onto the polished marble floor. Both Franco and Lucius, who stood silently beside him, exchanged sharp glances. Their eyes darted toward the heavy wooden door of the chamber, tension coiling in the air.

"Do not contact me again," the voice commanded sternly. Before Franco could respond, the luminescent crystal dimmed, the connection severed abruptly.

Lucius moved swiftly, his silken robes whispering against the floor as he approached the door. His hand hovered over the handle for a heartbeat before he flung it open, piercing eyes scanning the corridor beyond.

There, lying on the floor just outside the doorway, was a small feather duster.

"A rat," Lucius murmured, his voice barely louder than a whisper but laced with menace. His expression hardened, eyes narrowing into slits. "It appears we have a rat to hunt."

If you find any errors ( broken links, non-standard content, etc.. ), Please let us know < report chapter > so we can fix it as soon as possible.