Half-brother.
The words echoed in the silent ruin of my mind.
For a moment, I was no longer Kaelen the regressor, Kaelen the villain. I was just the boy from Earth, flung into a story that had just become a thousand times more complicated and disgusting.
Lin Feng. The World-Breaker. The Netherworld's chosen cancer. The arrogant, self-righteous bastard who had destroyed my first life and stolen everything I held dear.
My brother.
The sheer, gut-wrenching absurdity of it was almost enough to make me laugh. Of course he was. Of course the universe would add this perfect, melodramatic, exquisitely painful layer to my revenge. It meant my father, Emperor Valerius the Sixth—the stoic, disappointed, emotionally distant ruler—had, at some point, sired a bastard. A bastard who had returned, armed with a demonic destiny, to tear down the kingdom his legitimate children were meant to inherit.
It was a tragedy of dynastic proportions. And it was the single greatest weapon I could have asked for.
My initial shock was swiftly consumed by a wave of cold, predatory glee. This wasn't a setback. It was a key. It explained so much. Why was the Shadow Lord's contract bound to the Ravencrest bloodline? Why was the vessel for the World-Breaker born in this kingdom? It was never random. My father's sin had opened the door for the Netherworld's grand design.
And it gave me a direct, undeniable path to attack Lin Feng's legitimacy. He wasn't just a mysterious hero. He was the product of my father's infidelity, a living symbol of shame for the Imperial Family.
My plans for him had always ended with his death. Now, I decided that death was too simple. Before I killed him, I would utterly destroy him. I would strip him of his heroic narrative, expose his shameful origins, and make the world see him not as a savior, but as the filthy, demonic bastard he truly was.
My path was clear. But first, I had to deal with the immediate aftermath of tonight's events. Lin Feng was in the Sky-Cell, the most secure prison in the palace. He was a caged tiger. A protagonist, however, is never caged for long. His plot armor would arrange an escape, likely a dramatic one. I needed to act before that happened.
I didn't go back to my chambers. I went straight to the Imperial Study.
Two Imperial Knights, members of my father's personal guard, stood outside the grand doors. They moved to block me.
"The Emperor is not to be disturbed," the lead knight said, his voice firm.
"He will see me," I replied, my voice quiet but laced with an authority that made them pause. I was no longer the dandy prince they could dismiss. I was the hero of the hour, a mysterious power in my own right, and the man who had single-handedly captured the treasury's thief. "Tell him it concerns the Dragon's Heart, the prisoner, and the future of the Ravencrest bloodline. He will understand."
The knight hesitated, then nodded and disappeared inside. A minute later, he returned, his expression grim. "The Emperor will see you."
I walked into the study. My father sat behind his massive obsidian desk, the stolen—and now returned—Dragon's Heart sitting before him, pulsing with a gentle light. The room was a cage of shadows and heavy silence.
"This had better be important, Kaelen," he said, his voice weary. "The council is in an uproar. The ministers are demanding the prisoner's immediate execution."
"Executing him would be a mistake," I said calmly, stepping forward into the light.
My father looked up, his eyes sharp. "He is a thief who assaulted the Crown Prince and brought chaos to the palace. Give me one reason why he should see another sunrise."
"I will give you two," I replied. "First, his cultivation. A sixteen-year-old at the Foundation Establishment realm, even if it's only the third stage, is a prodigy that appears once a century. His combat prowess allowed him to bypass the entire Imperial Guard. To execute such a talent without understanding its origin is shortsighted."
My father grunted. It was a pragmatic argument that appealed to his ruler's mind. "And the second reason?"
I leaned forward, placing my hands on his desk, my voice dropping to a low, conspiratorial whisper.
"The second reason is that I don't believe for a second that he was working alone."
My father's eyes narrowed. "Explain."
"Think, Father," I said, my voice weaving a web of logic and paranoia. "The explosion at the treasury was a diversion. The timing of his arrival at the banquet was perfect. He knew exactly how to cause the most chaos, how to frame me to make himself look like a hero. This wasn't the work of a commoner who got lucky. This was a calculated, political attack. He has allies, Father. Allies within the palace."
I let that sink in. The greatest fear of any emperor: traitors within his own court.
"My 'duel' with him was not just a matter of honor," I continued. "It was a test. I needed to see his techniques, to feel the nature of his power. And what I felt was… unnatural. His strength is explosive, unstable. It feels like a gift, something granted to him, not earned."
"What are you implying?" my father asked, his voice now laced with a dangerous edge.
"I am implying that he is a pawn for a greater power," I said, delivering the master stroke of my manipulation. "And I believe that power is my dear sister, Lyra."
The silence in the room became absolute. My father stared at me, his face a mask of disbelief and dawning horror.
"Lyra?" he whispered. "That's absurd. She is your sister. You just saved her life."
"An act which granted her two cultivation breakthroughs and the sympathy of the entire court," I countered smoothly. "She has always been ambitious, Father. Far more than you know. She has her own faction of young nobles. She orchestrated the events tonight—her collapse, the need for an alchemist—to put her own pieces on the board. When my actions disrupted her plans, she feigned a relapse to stop the duel. She is connected to this 'Lin Feng'. I am certain of it."
It was a monstrous accusation, but it was built on a foundation of truth that made it terrifyingly plausible. I was turning my nemesis's greatest weapon—her secret plotting—into a liability.
"I need to prove it," I said, my voice filled with a fake, desperate sincerity. "Executing the prisoner silences him forever. But if you give me custody of him, Father… if you let me interrogate him, away from the prying eyes of the council and my brother's rigid laws… I believe I can break him. I can uncover the entire conspiracy. I can find out who is truly backing him and who in our court is loyal to my sister's ambitions."
My father stared at the Dragon's Heart, then back at me. He saw a choice. On one hand, his lawful, predictable, but unimaginative eldest son who wanted a quick, clean execution. On the other, his newly revealed, dangerously competent fourth son who was suggesting a path of shadows, conspiracy, and ruthless intelligence gathering.
He was an Emperor. He had not held the throne by being a fool. He knew which path would yield more information.
"The council will scream for his head," he murmured.
"Tell them he is being held for interrogation regarding a matter of national security," I replied instantly. "Tell them it is by your direct, Imperial decree. They will grumble, but they will obey."
After a long, weighted silence, my father gave a single, sharp nod. "You have until the end of the week. He is your prisoner. Take him to the Black Cells, beneath the cisterns. No one is to know. Find me the truth, Kaelen. And if you are wrong… if this is just some ploy in your own game of thrones… the consequences will be severe."
"I understand, Father," I said, bowing low, my heart pounding with a cold, triumphant rhythm.
I had done it. I had turned the protagonist of the world into my personal, secret prisoner. I had the full authority of the Emperor to do whatever I wished to him. And I had planted the seeds of a devastating suspicion against my sister in the one mind that truly mattered.
I left the study, my mind already racing with the possibilities. The 'interrogation' would be a farce. The true purpose was to study him, to analyze him, and to use the results of the blood sample analysis to find a way to… break him. Not just his body, but his will. His protagonist's halo.
But as I walked through the now-quiet palace halls, a chilling thought intruded, a loose thread in my perfect tapestry.
Lin Feng was the World-Breaker. Lyra was his co-conspirator. But the Judicator had been summoned by the annihilation of the Imp, a contract signed by Lyra. She had called the cops on herself by accident.
It meant that before tonight, Lyra had no idea that a being like a Judicator even existed. She, a regressor with forty years of future knowledge, was blind to the true nature of the cosmic power she was dealing with. Her knowledge was incomplete.
Which led to the final, terrifying twist.
There was a third party. Someone who had helped Lyra contact the Shadow Lord in the first place. Someone who did understand the rules of the Netherworld. Someone who was moving pieces on the board that even my regressed, nemesis sister couldn't see.
And as the system completed a secondary scan of the Protagonist's Blood Sample, a new line of data appeared, confirming my fears and revealing the identity of this hidden puppet master.
[ANALYSIS UPDATE]
[A foreign spiritual trace has been detected within the subject's soul-signature. It is deeply hidden and acts as a 'guidance' system.]
[Tracing the origin of the spiritual signature...]
[MATCH FOUND.]
[Origin: Seraphina Vane.]