Act 3: Infravulent Choices
The horizon was bleeding—a jagged line of crimson and bruised purple where the sun met the edge of the world. From the marble balcony of the manor, Leornars watched the light die with the clinical detachment of an undertaker. He didn't move when the heavy oak doors creaked open, nor when the soft, rhythmic patter of regulation slippers approached his back.
"Lord Leornars," the maid murmured, her head bowed at a sharp angle. "Is there anything I can do for you?"
Leornars didn't turn. His gaze remained fixed on the fading light, his silhouette framed by the cold stone of the balustrade. "Gather sixteen homeless people for me."
The maid paused, her professional mask flickering for a heartbeat. "Gender? Age, my Lord?"
"It doesn't matter," Leornars replied, his voice as flat as a stagnant pond. "As long as they are homeless. That is the only requirement. Now, go."
She bowed again, lower this time, and vanished into the shadows of the hallway.
From the plush velvet couch inside the room, Stacian finally spoke. She had been watching him, her sharp eyes tracing the tension in his shoulders. "I think I've finally grasped the shape of it," she said, her voice echoing in the high-ceilinged room. "The idea of sending a serial killer like Custazo to the Von Grantz estate."
Leornars turned slowly, a faint, ghost-like smile touching his lips. "Oh? I'm intrigued. Do go on."
"It's a win-win scenario, isn't it? Regardless of the outcome, you hold the winning hand," Stacian reasoned, leaning forward. "Whether they fall to him or survive, you profit. But I'm still missing the finer threads of the 'how'."
Leornars stepped back into the room, the shadows of the manor swallowing the last of the evening light. "It is quite simple, really," he said calmly. "If Custazo kills them, the Von Grantz line is extinguished, and a nuisance is removed from my board. If they manage to kill him, I shift the narrative. I will frame them for intentional murder, fraud, and child abuse. By the time I am done, I will have linked their name to child smuggling and the illicit supply of Pollium drugs."
Stacian froze. The air in the room felt suddenly heavy, thick with the scent of old parchment and cold iron. "Have they... truly done all that?"
"Child abuse and fraud? Certainly. They even sold the twins into the smuggling rings," Leornars said, his tone as casual as if he were discussing the weather. "I can work with that. King Alaric is nothing more than a pawn in a larger game—a puppet dancing on strings held by hands I intend to bite. I will trigger the person in charge. I want them to have no choice but to stand up and face me."
He began walking toward the door, his steps echoing with a predatory rhythm. Stacian followed, her wings rustling slightly against her back.
"So you want to ruin them... emotionally and physically," she whispered.
Leornars let out a short, dry laugh—a sound devoid of warmth. "My dear Stacian, that is just the tip of the storm. I am going to ruin them until not a single crumb of dignity remains in their bloodline."
The **Asheviliah Kingdom Bank** was a fortress of bureaucracy, smelling of ink and old coins. Leornars walked to the teller booth with a stride that demanded space, despite his youthful appearance. He sat down and leveled a calm, piercing gaze at the woman behind the counter.
"How may I help you today, sir?" she asked, her voice practiced and polite.
"I am here to take on the debt of another," Leornars said. "And I require the transaction to be handled with absolute discretion."
The teller blinked, her composure wavering. "Sir?"
"Think of it as a surprise," Leornars said, his voice softening into a mask of kindness that didn't reach his eyes. "They have done so much for me. I simply wish to pay them back in kind."
"Oh... I see! How generous," the lady replied, looking relieved. "I shall call the manager. He will bring the ledgers so you can review the specific accounts."
As the teller hurried away, Stacian leaned in, her voice a low hiss. "I see now," she whispered, a dark chuckle vibrating in her throat.
A few minutes later, a middle-aged man approached. He wore an ornate turban and gold accessories that jingled with every step. He looked down at Leornars, his brow furrowing in clear disdain.
*A child? In my bank, asking for me?* the manager thought, his lip curling.
Leornars didn't wait for a greeting. He snapped his fingers.
Beside him, Stacian shifted. In an instant, her **Dryiand horns** swept upward from her temples, and her great **black wings** unfurled, casting a terrifying shadow across the marble floor. The manager recoiled, his face draining of color as he hit the back of a desk.
"Now," Leornars said, his voice dropping an octave. "That should suffice for you to understand exactly what you are dealing with."
"Wh... who are you?" the manager stammered, trembling.
"My name is a detail you don't require. What I require is the ledger. Nothing more."
Suddenly, the floor beneath Leornars seemed to liquify. An **undead soldier** rose from the shadows, dropping to one knee with a clatter of ancient armor.
"My Lord," the specter rasped. "You have been summoned to the **Skyvault Citadel**. A high-ranking official from the Dirrium Kingdom has been captured and brought before the Court House. Your attendance is required; they have declared that due to your contributions, you are to take your new seat in the Citadel today."
The undead vanished as quickly as it had appeared, melting back into the darkness.
Leornars bit his lip, a rare flash of irritation crossing his face. *More calamity? This wasn't in the plan. I anticipated the seat, but not today of all days. What the hell is going on?*
"The ledger," Leornars commanded, turning back to the terrified manager.
They were hurried into a private office. The manager fumbled with heavy, leather-bound books until Leornars grew impatient, flipping through pages of names and numbers.
"Where is the name of **Count Von Grantz**?" Leornars demanded.
"A Count? You wish to clear a noble's debt?" the manager asked, bewildered.
"Indeed."
The manager looked at Leornars, then noticed the boy's hand was resting on the hilt of a dagger, his knuckles white. The air in the room grew frigid.
"U-understood!" the manager squeaked, pulling a hidden folder from the back shelf. "Here."
Leornars scanned the page. A slow, predatory smile stretched across his face. "Sixteen million in debt? That's... adorable."
He closed his eyes for a moment, speaking internally. *'Althelia.'*
*'I am here,'* a voice resonated from his core, crystalline and sharp.
*'Current gold reserves. I need to know what we're playing with so we don't struggle later.'*
*'Our current holdings stand at five trillion gold coins,'* Althelia replied. *'We could pay for every soul in this nation and still have enough to build a castle of pure gold.'*
*'A castle of gold sounds like a tyrant's fever dream,'* Leornars thought. *'Keep me updated on any shifts in the Citadel.'*
*'Roger.'*
Leornars looked at the manager. "I will clear the debt."
"Are you... acting as his new creditor? Or is this an act of goodwill?" the manager asked, his professional curiosity briefly overriding his fear. "It is mandatory we ask, as some try to back out of—"
"Creditors," Stacian interrupted firmly.
Leornars stood up, adjusting his coat. "Stacian, I'm leaving the rest to you. I'll have Zaryter and Salene handle the secondary matters. I'll send several undead your way if the bank becomes... difficult. Julah will be on standby if you need to reach me."
"Understood, my Lord," Stacian said, bowing.
"I'm off. The ledgers are on the upper floor, second room," Leornars said. Before the manager could blink, the boy stepped into the air and vanished.
The manager stared at the empty space, his breath coming in ragged gasps. "Who... who was that?"
Stacian looked at him, her eyes glowing with a faint, predatory light. "That was **Lord Leornars Servs Avrem**. The White Plague. King of the Avangard Kingdom. The King of All."
The manager sank into his chair, his eyes wide with awe and terror. "Thee Leornars? The living justice of the oppressed? In my office?"
"Indeed," Stacian said, her gaze returning to the ledger. "He may look like a child, but I assure you, he is the most dangerous individual I have ever served."
She chuckled to herself as she began the paperwork. "Taking their debt so he can demand immediate payment or seize their entire estate. With a killer at their door and their finances in his hands, the Von Grantz family is already dead. They just haven't realized it yet." Stacian thought with a cold smile
" Oh Lord Leornars you indeed are a marvel " Stacian said calmly