CHAPTER 312: CHAPTER 311 - THE NEUTRAL FACTION’S TURN.

The next morning.

The throne room of Velmoria’s palace was heavy with velvet silence.

Moonlight, pale and reluctant, streamed through tall windows, spilling over nobles seated in gilded chairs. Yet despite the grandeur, unease clung to the air like smoke.

At the head of the chamber sat Velric, the new king.

His posture was straight, his crown polished, and his robes immaculate—but his eyes betrayed him. Wide, cautious, shifting often toward the figure who leaned casually against the throne’s right arm.

It was Raven.

His crimson gaze scanned the room with the detached calm of a man who had already decided every move on the board.

Beside him, Selena stood like a shadow in silk, serene, her sapphire eyes quiet flames.

Clara, poised and steady, mirrored his calm, while Siris twirled a dagger with absent delight, her grin making nearby nobles pale.

Graye sat with her legs crossed, armor catching the light in sleek silver curves, chin propped on her hand as if the whole matter was a prelude to some glorious fight she couldn’t wait for.

Lia had plucked a small flower from somewhere and whispered to it under her breath—"Yes, yes, they’re tense, aren’t they?"—drawing sidelong glances from Duke Astazin.

The flowers are supposed to die once plucked, but not if Lia was the one doing that. So, this flower was still alive, talking to her.

The problem was that it looked weird to others, as they didn’t know Lia could converse with plants.

Jessy, practical as always, leaned back with her arms folded, the only one who didn’t fawn at Raven.

Rufus whispered to Alex about "how majestic" the chandeliers looked until Nibbles smacked his forehead with a tiny paw.

Jake stood in stoic silence behind Velric’s throne, along with Vairan, his father. Both of them had one hand resting near their blades, their quiet presence grounding the chaotic mix.

Then, finally, there was Omni. Tattooed across Raven’s arm, the sword’s voice purred from under his skin.

"Yo, boss, this room smells like uptight coin pouches. Say the word, and we cut some tension—literally."

Raven didn’t move, but his lips quirked in the faintest grin.

The nobles had been whispering for some time, but it was Duchess Ilene Elvarine who shattered the hush.

Her ice-blue hair shimmered in the moonlight as her sapphire eyes snapped toward Raven.

"Is it true? That the deaths of those... defectors... were the work of your group?"

Her voice dripped with both frost and fire.

The room froze. Dozens of eyes darted between Raven and the duchess.

This was a question that many wanted answered because they had heard the rumors.

Now, they wanted to know if it was true.

After all, the enemy faction was now fearful, feeling that they might get targeted next.

Raven straightened, stepped forward, and let the pause linger. He didn’t need theatrics; the silence was his stage.

Finally, his voice—smooth, low, and unshaken—cut through the chamber.

"Yes."

The admission cracked like thunder.

Murmurs rippled. Some nobles recoiled, while others leaned forward, hungry, afraid, and uncertain.

Even Velric tensed on his throne until Raven’s gaze slid his way.

The king immediately nodded, clearing his throat, and declared: "Y-Yes... Yes, those who supported demons were brought to justice. Their... Their punishment was righteous."

It was less a proclamation than an echo of Raven’s will, and everyone knew it.

Silence pressed down, heavier than before.

Duke Astazin, his dark hair falling across thoughtful eyes, spoke next, calm but cautious. "The demonic nobles now fear being assassinated next. Sure, it can buy us some time, but it cannot win us the war."

Every eye in the hall turned to the duke of West.

After all, he was one of the strongest in the kingdom (Vaise family excluded), so his words carried weight.

"Meaning?" Raven raised a brow, unflickering.

The duke’s authority might be high for others present, but not for him, as he was currently holding the position of the duke of South.

The man nodded, explaining. "We remain outnumbered, Raven. Even united, our blades may falter under sheer force."

Raven tilted his head, studying the duke with a look that said, ’You’re smart enough to ask the right question.’

Then his smile sharpened.

"You think we’re outnumbered as we are now?"

Shaking his head, he continued, "You only know half the truth. The humans we face are many... but do you even know how many demons they have summoned from the demon realm?"

His voice dropped, echoing with gravity. "Their numbers would be double what we have. Maybe triple. That’s how much we are outnumbered."

The chamber erupted in whispers, disbelief, and dread.

Even Duchess Ilene’s fiery confidence dimmed, her fingers gripping the armrest of her chair.

Raven let the unease deepen, letting them choke on it. Then, smoothly, he offered the thread of salvation.

"Unless," he said, his tone cutting, deliberate, "we remove the support they rely on. Unless we take the neutral factions from the middle and drag them to our side. Unless," and his crimson eyes gleamed, "we cut off the support of the nobles. If we isolate their forces, or better yet, if we turn them into our forces."

The silence that followed was not mere quiet—it was realization. The nobles weren’t fools. They all saw it now.

Raven wasn’t just killing defectors in the dark; he was shaping the battlefield itself.

Siris broke the tension by licking her dagger, grinning like she was already imagining blood. "I like this plan. Let me carve their excuses off first."

Graye laughed, leaning back, armor plates clinking. "Ha! Just point me at them, and I’ll flatten the neutral factions until they’re very neutral."

"Graye..." Clara sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose.

Lia lifted her flower. "The plants agree. Neutral ground must be fertilized with... persuasion."

Jessy muttered under her breath, "Why am I still here again?"

Omni’s voice chimed in with gangster flair: "Yo, boss, tell the duchess to chill. We’ll ice the defectors and let the Snow Queen take the credit—bam, political brownie points."

Duchess Ilene’s sapphire gaze flicked to Raven, fiery curiosity burning behind her pride.

’He really is Argon’s son, huh?’ She smiled inwardly, recalling how Argon used to be as straightforward as he was.

After all, Raven’s plan was simple: if they couldn’t overpower the enemy, then they would absorb the enemy’s power.

Duke Astazin rubbed his chin, already calculating probabilities, contingencies, and risks.

The decision was inevitable.

King Velric swallowed, then cleared his throat. "It... It shall be decided, then. Raven and his... companions will... will handle the neutral factions."

With those words, the stamp was placed.

Raven’s will was sealed in royal decree.

The nobles left whispering, fearful, yet unwilling to defy the tide.

As the throne room emptied, Raven leaned back against the throne once more, crimson eyes glowing faintly.

Selena brushed his arm with quiet pride, Clara’s calm smile mirrored his unshaken composure, Siris giggled with bloodthirst, and the others prepared for whatever madness came next.

Soon, the great doors shut behind the last noble, leaving only Raven’s group and the weight of what had been declared.

Graye was the first to speak, cracking her knuckles loud enough to echo. "So... we flatten them or slice them?"

Siris twirled her dagger, flashing a grin. "Flatten, slice, then flatten again."

Jessy groaned. "Gods above, you two need a hobby."

Lia lifted her flower. "The flower suggests embroidery."

She paused, listening. "And strangulation, but mostly embroidery."

Omni’s voice purred from Raven’s arm. "Boss, c’mon, give it to ’em straight—what’s the move? Do we sweet-talk these fence-sitters, or do we ’convince’ them gangster-style?"

Raven finally leaned forward, crimson gaze sweeping his companions. His lips curved into that sharp, knowing grin.

"We’ve already met the factions who support us. We’ve already clashed blades with some of our enemies—"

Siris raised a hand, her head tilted. "Didn’t we kill them? Was that considered a blade clash? Wasn’t it more like, blade clashing with skin and skin going skitch?"

Raven stared at her for a second before he sighed, nodding. "Yes. My bad. We killed them. Happy?"

Siris beamed in response, and Raven continued, "Since we have met the two factions, it means that now it’s time to knock on the doors of the neutral faction."

Nibbles raised a sign from Alex’s shoulder. "Knock-Knock, motherfu—"

Alex quickly hid the sign. "Nibbles. I don’t think that was appropriate."

The squirrel merely squeaked disapprovingly.

Ignoring their banter, Selena arched a brow. "So, what exactly do you suggest we do?"

Raven’s grin widened. "Simple. We kidnap them."

The silence broke like glass.

Graye barked a laugh. Siris clapped her hands with glee. Lia nodded solemnly to her flower.

Jessy pinched the bridge of her nose. "Hauntingly simple. God help the neutrals."