CHAPTER 519: REALIZATION IS THE FIRST STEP

Chapter 519 – Realization is The First Step

Lux didn’t answer right away. Mira’s words just hung there, circling in his head like a credit audit he didn’t want to run.

Owe himself.

Yeah... yeah, she was right.

He chuckled, dry and quiet. "You’re right," he muttered. "I owe myself. A lot more than I ever put on the books."

Mira tilted her head, giving him a look that wasn’t smug for once. Just knowing. Then she tapped his shoulder gently, her long nail brushing his suit. "Good. Realization is the first step. Regret is the second. But after that, you better get moving, Vaelthorn. No wallowing."

He gave her a half-smile. "You trying to coach me now?"

"Someone has to. Today was supposed to be Naomi’s turn, right? She’s good at that soft talk stuff. But..." Mira’s eyes flicked in the direction Sira had gone. "I’ll talk to her."

He blinked. "You?"

"Me," she confirmed. "We’re both prideful, remember? She won’t take pity from a mortal. She’ll claw it apart before it lands. But me?" Her voice lowered just enough to sound like steel beneath silk. "I get her. And she knows it."

Rava set down her drink with a light clink and stood from the plush chair. "I’ll go too. Just in case Mira needs backup. Or a wine bottle thrown at her."

"Oh, please," Mira snorted. "She wouldn’t throw the good stuff."

"You’d be surprised."

They walked over together, Rava pressing a soft kiss to Lux’s cheek, Mira going for the corner of his lips just to tease.

"Take a rest, Hell CFO," Rava murmured with a smirk. "You earned it."

Mira winked. "And no thinking about taxes for at least an hour."

"I make no promises," Lux replied, but he nodded anyway. Obediently. Genuinely. His chest felt just a little bit lighter as they walked off.

He turned and spotted Lyra by the far wall. She’d been silent this whole time, standing like a sculpture of dignity and discipline.

"Lyra," he said, "do you need any help?"

She turned slowly, lips pulling into the faintest amused curve. "That would be a disgrace for me, My Lord."

Then she snapped her fingers.

Instantly, the puppets—those eerily graceful constructs draped in maid uniforms—began gliding around the room. Plates disappeared, wine glasses lifted, napkins folded themselves into tight origami birds and flew into a tray.

It would’ve been creepy if it wasn’t also weirdly elegant.

Lyra gave a short nod. "Looking at your current mood, I will bring wine and light snacks to your room."

Lux raised an eyebrow. "You already assumed I won’t be alone?"

She didn’t blink. "Two glasses. One for you. One for Lady Naomi."

He huffed. "Fine. Just make it the citrus plum wine. I need something sweet but sharp."

"As expected," Lyra murmured, already vanishing behind the wall like a polite shadow.

And with that, Lux sighed, shoulders rolling slowly as he turned toward the stairs.

Yeah... maybe rest was a good idea.

Or at least a distraction.

His room was quiet when he stepped in. The kind of quiet that made you think something was hiding under the bed.

And something was.

"Yo."

Lux stopped in his tracks.

Corvus was sprawled across his plush couch like a gothic gargoyle that discovered Netplix. One foot on the table, black boots smudging his marble tray, and in his hand? A bottle of iced coffee. In the other? A half-empty bowl of honey-roasted peanuts.

"You’re still here?" Lux said, kicking the door shut behind him.

"Yup." Corvus tossed a peanut into his mouth and chewed lazily. "Was waiting for you to stop emotionally combusting."

Lux sighed and flopped onto the bed, arms stretched wide like a cross. "What do you want?"

"I got questions," Corvus said, standing and stretching with a few audible pops. "Specifically about that whole time-freeze singing goddess flashbang thing."

Lux stared at the ceiling. "Yeah?"

Corvus crossed the room and leaned on the bedpost. "Did you tell them about Zoltarin?"

Lux nodded slowly. "Yeah. I did."

Corvus tilted his head. "Why?"

"Because they need to know," Lux said flatly. "If he’s building influence again—if he has loyalists hidden across pantheons, across courts, across damn planes—then they need to be aware. Mortals. Demons. And maybe..."

Corvus narrowed his eye. "Celestials."

"Exactly," Lux said. He closed his eyes. "I don’t have proof. Not the kind the courts would accept. But all the signs are there. Connected dots. Red lines that keep pointing back to him."

Corvus walked over to the minibar, stole a second bottle of cold brew, and tossed it to Lux. He caught it.

"You’re talking in riddles," Corvus muttered. "Tell me straight. What do you mean?"

Lux unscrewed the cap. Took a long sip. Bitter, dark, necessary.

"Remember the chaos at the start of my tenure?" he asked quietly. "When my dad left for that century-long honeymoon? Before I had my Greed System?"

Corvus nodded. "Yeah. You looked like a dying accountant. No sleep. Red eyes. Twitchy fingers. Thought you were gonna snap and commit arson using spreadsheets."

Lux laughed softly. "I almost did."

Corvus sat down on the edge of the desk, eyes locked on him.

"I started investigating it," Lux said. "The chaos. The sudden corruption. The holes in the budget. Tampered contracts. Untraceable authorizations. It was like someone had taken my kingdom and scattered the ledgers with cursed confetti."

He stared down at the floor. "And every time I followed a trail, every time I traced the anomalies, the misfires, the whispers... it led back to one place... The Royal House of Greed.

Lux huffed. "But that was impossible. It was just me. My father. And my mother. The seals around our systems are absolute."

"Unless," Corvus said slowly, "there was someone else. Someone like... your uncle."

Lux nodded again, this time tighter. "Exactly."

A beat of silence stretched between them.

Corvus broke it. "You think Zoltarin sabotaged you from the shadows? Before you even knew he existed?"

"I don’t think," Lux said. "I know. I just can’t prove it."