Walking into the mansion's austere receiving chamber, they arranged themselves around the long, brown-oak table. No one spoke. All eyes were fixed on the two princes, waiting for permission to break the silence.
Cain let the tension thicken, his mismatched eyes sweeping over each councilor before he finally spoke.
"I bring word from the Emperor."
The air in the room turned to ice. Poddin's knuckles whitened on the table; Greenwood felt a cold sweat trace his spine. He had expected displeasure from the Templar Empire, but not a direct displeasure from the Tyrant itself.
Regaining their composure with visible effort, they listened.
"Blackstone is to provide 'adequate' compensation," Cain continued, enunciating each word with chilling precision,
"and a full explanation as to why you reached your… filthy fingers… into his domain. Should he perceive any insincerity in your actions, the Emperor will deliver his response personally."
He fell silent, the threat hanging heavier than any shouted decree. Cain took this duty with deadly seriousness. His father never summoned his sons for trivialities. This was both a rebuke and an opportunity—a chance to outmaneuver Romulus and prove his worth to the Emperor.
"Now," Cain said, the air around him crackling with contained energy. "You may speak. But choose your words with care. There will be no second chances." He looked ready to erupt, pride and annoyance warring in his gaze— Sometimes, he wished he wasn't a Templar as much as it offered him the attention he wanted. He was a sucker for battle, and the people who could give him a proper fight wouldn't step up due to his Templar surname.
After a hard swallow, Poddin dared to speak. "Your Highness," he began, aiming for Cain's well-known ambition, "the disturbance within the Northern Continent stemmed from a contract between a Blackstone noble and a member of the Shadow Train organization."
"The Shadow Train?" Cain's smirk returned, edged with interest. "Those small-time smugglers have reached this far. Interesting."
He leaned forward slightly. "I will need this noble you spoke of and... My brother here will… 'interrogate' him. And oh," he added, as if an afterthought, though his tone left no room for misunderstanding, "do not forget to prepare the compensation. I would hate to ask again."
The dismissal was clear. The council members stood as one and bowed. Greenwood, anxious to leave, summoned a wisp of his darkness element to facilitate their swift departure.
Seeing the darkness element utilized before him, Leo—who had been a statue of quiet menace—tilted his head upward. A single, pondering word escaped the void of his face.
"Interesting."
Cain shot him a sidelong glance. "Let them go, Leo. You don't have to kill everyone who uses the darkness element in front of you."
"So. What do you think?"
He then turned fully to his brother after controlling his bloodlust. "About what?"
"Their reaction. This entire thing."
Leo lowered his head slightly, the darkness where his face should be seeming to deepen. "You're asking the obvious. The real question is: what changed?
"I don't understand," Cain asked, a little confused at his words
"There have been disturbances in your continent, even in the Central Continent. Father never lifted a finger before. Why now? What changed?" Leo spoke in a low tone, but audible enough.
Cain studied him for a few seconds. Leo had no interest in the throne of the Empire; he lived for the battlefield, a stark contrast to Cain and Romulus, who saw rulership as their birthright. Yet, Cain knew—if Leo ever decided to claim power, he could. He had the strength and the mind for it.
"I've wondered the same. Perhaps it's his mood. The war has never been so… unfavorable." Cain's voice was uncharacteristically pensive.
"Perhaps," Leo mused, a hand rising to rest beneath where his chin would be. "Or perhaps all that changes now that the prophecy regarding a God-Rank relic has proven true."
Cain's gaze sharpened as he remembered something. "Send some of your Dark Angels to a Shadow Train branch within the Empire. Verify Poddin's claim."
Leo gave a slow nod. "Already ahead of you. I would have sent shadows to tail those old men if that other old bastard wasn't watching us right now."
"Right." Cain's expression hardened, his golden eyes crackling with arcs of lightning as he stared fiercely into the distance, toward the source of the oppressive, unseen gaze. "I can feel his eyes bearing down on me."
Unfazed, Leo simply sat back, cross-legged. He produced a small pot of tea from a spatial storage, ignoring the untouched cups the council had provided. He poured for himself and took slow, deliberate sips into his darkness-masked face, settling into a patient, watchful silence.
The council returned swiftly, accompanied by three figures: a thin, elderly man and a young girl—both with distinctive red hair—and a young man with black hair. All three were bound.
Cain's gaze swept over them before giving a slight nod to Leo.
Leo rose slowly, a shadow uncoiling itself. He approached the red-haired elder, whose eyes bulged with panic. Before the man could utter a word, Leo raised a finger to where his lips would be.
"Shhh… Come with me. People speak more freely when they feel no one is watching. Don't you agree?"
His voice was a velvety murmur, layered with meaning. The council members stiffened, assuming the warning was for them. Cain knew better—Leo was referring to the Emperor of Blackstone's pervasive gaze.
Leo gripped the terrified elder and melted into a pool of darkness, vanishing without a sound.
An oppressive silence filled the hall. No one sat. The remaining two prisoners stood trembling, ignored for the moment.
The wait was not long. For the old man, however, it was an eternity.
Leo reemerged from a patch of shadow, dragging the elder, who now looked hollow, a shell of his former self. Leo's faceless void turned toward Cain, a silent question held within it.
Cain nodded permission.
"Who tortured this man?" Leo asked, his tone chillingly calm, a blend of curiosity and implicit threat.
Poddin drew a steadying breath. This was the moment to sell the lie. Any flaw would doom them all.
"My apologies for his state," Poddin began, sincerity etched into his features. "We have an… expert in such matters. We needed a verified account ready to demonstrate our sincerity between empires."
"An expert. I see." Leo paused, then addressed Cain again. "It checks out. His memories show trades between Blackstone and the Templar Empire, facilitated by a space array obtained from the Shadow Train. The disturbance was caused by the unexpected activation of a… high-grade artifact."
Poddin's mouth opened instinctively to correct him—the memory contained only a 'mid-grade' artifact—but he caught himself. Understanding flashed in his eyes. He closed his mouth and shrank back, accepting the amended narrative.
"Unfortunately," Leo continued, his voice dropping to a contemplative murmur, "I could not verify all details. The work done on him by this 'expert' was truly… how do I put this…"
"worthy of applause." With that, Leo reclined once more, his inky hair and featureless face the picture of detached observation.
Cain absorbed the summary, then let his gaze settle on Poddin. His heterochromatic eyes were lazily deadly.
"Surely," Cain said, his voice deceptively soft, "this mysterious 'high-grade' artifact will be part of my compensation. The Emperor will undoubtedly wish to examine the very item that drew his attention."
'Bastards, ' Poddin thought, forcing a pained smile. They were being robbed blind, and he knew it. He had accepted Greenwood's hefty bribe and the fabricated story without question. His pang of regret had struck when Cain and Leo themselves appeared. If he knew the situation was gonna be this complicated, he would have demanded a better bribe from Greenwood.
"How could we forget, Your Highness?" Poddin said, his voice tight. "That would show a profound lack of sincerity." With a wave of his hand, he produced a small, ornate red box and sent it floating toward Cain with a masterful manipulation of spiritual energy. "It is all there."
Cain caught the box, flipped it open, and studied the contents: a bronze ring etched with intricate silver patterns. He grinned, probing it with a tendril of his own energy. A moment later, he withdrew his senses, smile widening.
"Not bad. Not bad at all… We should do this again sometime."
He stood. Leo followed suit, turning toward the three prisoners. With a casual gesture, he opened a yawning portal of pure darkness—its destination unknowable—and let all three tumble through without breaking stride as he fell in beside Cain.
The moment they stepped beyond the mansion's threshold, Cain spoke, the weight of Blackstone's gaze finally lifting.
"Something wasn't right."
Leo nodded, the darkness around him shifting. "It was written all over their faces."
Cain shrugged, tossing the newly acquired ring to Leo. "With the level of compensation they just handed over, accusing them of further deceit would seem… excessive."
Leo caught the ring, examining it briefly. "Hmm. Quite the hoard."
"My thoughts exactly. They're hiding something deeper, but for now, our hands are tied."
Leo nodded once more in silent agreement.
As they passed through the outer gate, Leo's darkness beneath his feet dissolved at the edges as shadows coalesced into great, spectral wings that unfurled from his back. With a soundless beat, he lifted into the sky.
A fraction of a second later, the air shattered with a thunderous *crack*. Cain dissolved into a jagged line of pure lightning, streaking past Leo and into the clouds, leaving only the scent of ozone and the echo of power hanging in the quiet field.