CHAPTER 112: TAKING ALL AND MORE

The manor was quiet, quiet enough that the faint crackle of a distant hearth carried through its halls.

Kael stood in the shadows of a vast corridor, his posture casual, though his eyes remained sharp and watchful. He had long since learned how to blend into places like this—grand, opulent homes of nobility who fancied themselves untouchable.

Tonight, that skill would be tested again.

In his hands, he carried a stack of ledgers, carefully forged replicas of the Church’s records for its informants among the noble houses.

The true documents sat secured in Aric’s study, won through weeks of painstaking work by Maxim and his network.

These decoys had a single purpose: to sow confusion within the Church’s ranks while Kael quietly turned their allies into Aric’s.

A light scuff of footsteps pulled him from his thoughts. From the far end of the corridor, Hitoshi approached, his gait slow but intentfull.

"They’re waiting in the study," Hitoshi said, his voice low and steady. "Two of the Church’s most trusted eyes in House Firael. Let’s see how far their loyalty goes when faced with the right... incentives."

Kael nodded, following the older man down the hall. "What about the others?" he asked. "The informants in Rothval and Zerin?"

"Patience," Hitoshi replied, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. "One crack in the dam at a time."

---

The study was modest by noble standards, though the heavy oak desk and walls lined with ancient tomes spoke to a quiet sophistication.

The two men seated inside stiffened as Kael and Hitoshi entered.

One was middle-aged, his thin frame and restless movements betraying unease. The other was younger, sharp-featured, a faint scar cutting across his jawline, his eyes wary but calculating.

Kael shut the door behind him and leaned casually against it, arms crossed. Hitoshi took the seat opposite the two men, his expression calm, unreadable.

"You know why you’re here," Kael began, his tone conversational. "The Church values loyalty above all else. Yet loyalty, I’ve found, often depends on circumstances."

The scarred man, Osric, narrowed his eyes. "What are you getting at, old man?"

Kael ignored the jab and slid a parchment across the desk. It bore a list of names—noblemen and merchants the Church had used to funnel money and information, all uncovered by Aric’s network.

"This," Kael said, tapping the parchment, "is what the Church has on you. Every deal, every favor, every bribe. They keep meticulous records for when loyalty needs... encouragement."

Osric’s jaw tightened. The older man, Albrecht, shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

"Now," Hitoshi continued, his voice softening, "imagine if this list were to find its way into the hands of your rivals. Or worse, the emperor."

Osric sneered, though fear flickered in his eyes. "You’re bluffing."

Kael stepped forward, pulling another parchment from his stack. This one bore the seal of the Imperial Court—a forgery, but convincing enough to make Osric’s sneer falter.

"Do you really want to take that chance?" Kael asked coldly. "Or would you rather hear what we’re offering?"

Albrecht spoke for the first time, his voice shaky. "What do you want?"

Hitoshi leaned back in his chair, steepling his fingers. "Simple. Information. The Church’s movements, their plans, the secrets they’ve entrusted to you. In return, we offer protection. And perhaps... a share in something greater."

Osric scoffed, his defiance more a mask than conviction. "And who are we supposed to trust? A prince whose own family calls him a pariah?"

Kael stepped closer, his face inches from Osric’s. "That pariah is the only reason you’re not rotting in House Rothval’s dungeons right now. You think the Church cares about you? You’re expendable to them. To us—you’re an asset."

The silence that followed was heavy, broken only by the faint crackle of the hearth. Finally, Albrecht exhaled and nodded.

"We’ll talk," he said. "But if this goes wrong—"

"It won’t," Hitoshi cut in, his voice firm. "You’ve made the right choice."

---

Over the following weeks, the web of informants the Church had so carefully spun began to unravel. With Albrecht and Osric feeding them details, Kael and Hitoshi worked tirelessly to identify others within the noble houses.

Each name uncovered was another thread pulled loose from the Church’s grip.

Kael took particular satisfaction in the subtlety of their work. There were no grand confrontations, no dramatic betrayals—only quiet conversations, carefully placed documents, and the occasional well-timed rumor.

By the time the Church realized what was happening, it was already too late.

One evening, as the moon hung low over the capital, Kael and Hitoshi met in a hidden chamber beneath the Ashen Covenant’s headquarters. The room was dim, its walls crowded with maps and ledgers of their progress.

"The informants in House Zerin are proving difficult," Kael admitted, tracing a finger along a map of the southern ports. "They’re loyal to the Church—but more so to their own ambitions."

Hitoshi nodded thoughtfully. "Then we appeal to those ambitions. Find out what they want—money, power, influence—and give them a taste. Just enough to make them doubt where their loyalty lies."

"And if they don’t bite?" Kael asked.

"Then we cut them off at the knees," Hitoshi said simply, his expression hardening. "Aric’s plans can’t afford loose ends."

Kael smirked. "You’re more ruthless than you look."

Hitoshi chuckled softly. "Ruthless, perhaps. But necessary. The Church’s grip on the nobility is slipping because we’ve made it so. Now, we finish what we started."

---

By the time the summer heat began to seep into the capital, Aric’s influence within the Church’s network of informants was firmly established.

The secrets they uncovered were invaluable—not only to Aric’s plans, but to understanding the power dynamics among the noble houses.

One particular revelation came from a low-ranking informant within House Rothval, a servant who had overheard a conversation between Duke Garamond and one of his advisors.

The Iron Circle, it seemed, was beginning to suspect Aric’s hand in the Church’s unraveling. Their focus, however, remained fixed on Valen, whose growing impatience threatened to destabilize their alliance.

Aric listened to this report with a faint smile, his fingers drumming lightly on the armrest of his chair. "It’s fine if they suspect," he said. "By the time they act, it will be too late."

Kael and Hitoshi exchanged a glance, their expressions a mix of respect and curiosity.

They had watched Aric’s plans unfold step by step, each move precise, deliberate. Yet there was always an air of mystery to him, as if he were playing a game only he truly understood.

As the meeting ended, Hitoshi lingered behind, his gaze fixed on the map pinned to the wall. It showed the empire in its entirety, each noble house marked with a symbol denoting their allegiance—or lack thereof.

"You think we’ll win this?" he asked quietly, not turning around.

Aric’s voice came from behind him, calm and certain.

"We already are. The Church is falling, the Iron Circle is fracturing, and soon, the empire will see what they’ve tried so hard to forget. Me."