CHAPTER 62: UNDER CURRENTS (1)

Daemon Azure’s lips twitched in annoyance. The sheer, unrefined rage coming through the communication talisman from Aiden Thorne was grating.

For a moment, he considered the profound satisfaction of simply cutting the connection and letting the brutish heir of the Thorne family wander the Labyrinth in ignorant fury.

But he couldn’t. He needed allies, and Aiden, for all his flaws, was a necessary pawn.

"Calm yourself, Aiden," Daemon said, his voice a smooth, placating balm over Aiden’s fiery temper.

"He is not my man. Do you truly believe I would associate with such a chaotic element? I am offering you an opportunity. The man who humiliated you, who stole your family’s treasures, is here. Alone. Vulnerable."

He chose his words carefully, stoking the embers of Aiden’s wounded pride. He knew that for a man like Aiden Thorne, humiliation was a far greater motivator than logic.

There was a pause on the other end, filled with the sound of heavy, angry breathing.

"Vulnerable?" Aiden scoffed, his voice betraying a hint of mockery. "That bastard slaughtered a Feral Lancer on his own. What makes you think he’s vulnerable?"

"Because he is one man," Daemon replied, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper.

"He was alone when he hunted that Feral too," Aiden shot back. "Truth be told, no one among us heirs, maybe except that crazy fake Kaelen, could achieve such a feat. What makes you think such a man will be vulnerable?"

"Because we are the heirs of the great families," Daemon continued smoothly. "United, our strength is absolute. He may be a strong individual, but can he stand against the combined might of the Azure, Thorne, Sterling, Crestfall, and Ashton clans?

This is not just about revenge, Aiden. This is about order. An anomaly like him cannot be allowed to run free in a place as important as this. He is a threat to all of us."

He let the silence stretch, allowing his proposition to sink in. He could almost picture Aiden on the other side, his face contorted in a mixture of anger and greedy calculation.

"Fine," Aiden finally grunted. "Where do we meet? When we find him, his head is mine."

"Of course," Daemon said with a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. "I will coordinate with the others. Await my signal."

He cut the connection, a flicker of disgust on his handsome face. Dealing with Aiden was like trying to reason with a rabid dog.

Now for the more... civilised members of their little cohort.

He activated the talisman again, this time sending a pulse of Qi to the Crestfall family’s frequency. A calm, resonant voice answered almost immediately.

"Prince Daemon. To what do I owe the pleasure?"

It was Lysander Crestfall. Unlike his matriarch, Elara, whose wisdom was a quiet, flowing river, Lysander’s principles were a set of unyielding stone tablets. He was a man who always followed fixed principles.

"Lysander," Daemon began, his tone shifting to one of respectful camaraderie.

"I have located the outsider who has been causing chaos in the Labyrinth. I am forming a coalition to eliminate this threat. The Thorne family has already agreed. I would be honoured if the Crestfall family would lend us their strength."

There was a thoughtful silence. Daemon could almost picture Lysander stroking his chin, weighing the proposition not on a scale of profit and loss, but of honour and principle.

"Eliminate him?" Lysander’s voice was cool. "Tell me, Prince Daemon, what crime has this man committed, aside from being more competent than our own disciples?"

Daemon’s eye twitched. "He is a rogue element. He has stolen from the Thorne family and has shown no respect for the authority of the great families. He is a danger to the stability of this trial."

"The stability of this trial?" Lysander’s voice held a note of quiet amusement. "Or the stability of our families’ monopoly? Forgive me, Prince, but I fail to see the honour in three great families ganging up on a single, unknown cultivator.

The Labyrinth is a trial of individual strength and wit. If this man proves superior, then that is his right. The Crestfall family will not participate in what sounds less like a righteous crusade and more like a cowardly ambush.

I wish you luck in your... hunt."

The connection went dead. Daemon clenched his fist, a flash of anger breaking through his calm facade. The self-righteous piety of the Crestfalls was infuriating.

They lived in a world of ideals, blind to the practical necessities of power.

He took a deep breath, pushing his frustration down. He had expected it. Fine. He didn’t need them.

He activated the talisman a third time, connecting to the Sterling family. "Lady Anya," he said, his voice once again smooth and charming.

"Prince Daemon." Anya Sterling’s reply was clipped and devoid of warmth. "I assume this is about the strange man in the black mask."

"Mask?"

"So, I assume he’s not wearing a mask. What is his appearance, anyway?"

"W-what?"

"Never mind. I can guess the reason for your call. No is the answer."

The rejection was so swift and absolute that it caught Daemon completely off guard. The Sterlings had always kept a friendly relationship with the royal family.

For their heir to openly reject him now... Daemon almost cursed.

"No?" he repeated, his voice turning cold.

"I was there, Prince," Anya’s voice was low and tense, a stark contrast to her usual calm. "I saw what he did to the Feral Lancer. In a way, both of us fear him, but the outcomes of our fears are different.

You speak of him as a threat to be eliminated. I see him as a natural disaster to be avoided. He is not a man you can simply overwhelm with numbers.

To fight him is not a calculated risk; it is suicide. The Sterling family will not be throwing away the lives of its disciples on a fool’s errand born of pride and fear. We will find our own path through this Sanctum. I suggest you do the same."

Before Daemon could even formulate a response, she cut the connection. Daemon stared at the silent talisman in his hand, his mind reeling.

Anya Sterling, the sharpest and most pragmatic mind among the heirs, was afraid of this man. Truly afraid.

The cold fear he had felt earlier returned, more potent this time. The Shade had been right. This outsider was more dangerous than all of them combined.

His resolve hardened. This was no longer just about maintaining order. This was about survival. A monster like that could not be allowed to claim the Labyrinth’s final reward.

With a grim determination, he made the final call, connecting to the Ashton family.

"Kaelen."

A lazy, arrogant voice answered. "Daemon. Make it quick. I was in the middle of a very important meditation on the inherent superiority of my bloodline."

Daemon ignored the casual arrogance. "I have the outsider cornered. Thorne is with me. Crestfall and Sterling have proven to be cowards. I need the strength of the Ashton clan."

There was a pause, and then a short, derisive laugh. "You and Aiden needed to team up to fight a single, nameless cultivator? How pathetic. The great Azure and Thorne families, trembling before a nobody."

"This ’nobody’ has Anya Sterling running in fear," Daemon said, his voice tight.

That seemed to catch Kaelen’s attention. "Oh? The little cock-sleeve is scared? That is... mildly interesting."