Deadlock

Three hours of carousing passed before midnight’s gong rang in the banquet hall. But while most enjoyed the revelry, two remained aloof: the absentminded Jezebel and Kilian whose eyes lingered on hers.

From the moment Kilian returned with the Mark of Greed, Jezebel fell into a half-trance. Most of the time—she’d stand idle at a window—eyes glazed for no reason. Even Urag’s appearance didn’t rekindle the light in her eyes for more than an hour. And though he could infer that her behavior was linked to Ashera’s will, Kilian couldn’t guess the details.

In silence, Jezebel stood up and left the party. Simultaneously, three students completed Kilian’s challenge and rushed toward the second floor.

“Take my place for a bit,” Kilian ordered Urag, and went after Jezebel. In the corridor leading to the dormitory, Kilian caught up to Jezebel—and as if sensing him—she stopped. For an instant, the two stood there, with Kilian facing Jezebel’s back.

“I didn’t think you were the type to run after the girl,” she jested without turning to face him.

“I didn’t think you were the type to let trouble wear you down,” he countered.

“Now that depends on the type of trouble. Trouble is good when it plagues others. Only bitches want it in their lives. I’m typically too lazy to let it reach me—but unfortunately—it found its way in.” Spinning 180, Jezebel met Kilian’s gaze with her amethyst hues.

“You’re the trouble. I received a new assignment from mother dearest, an ultimatum to set you straight—in a nutshell. Apparently, the Mark of Greed bothers her a lot. I am not familiar with its abilities, but if she cares that much, it can’t just be because of your new course. Otherwise, she wouldn’t be in such a hurry. My guess is that at a high-enough level, the Mark can annul your contract,” Jezebel hypothesized.

“You’re correct. As my greed grows, the Mark will give me the ability to annul all contracts that aren’t favorable to me.”

“Which is why you opened those three gambling houses and force the indebted students—heirs of great houses—to sell their present and future assets in binding contracts?”

“Indeed.” Kilian didn’t deny it. Through the gambling houses, he’d conned many of the aristocrats into giving up present and future assets. When they inherited their house’s lands and titles, the contract would kick in, forcing them to offer it all to Kilian. And with the ongoing civil war, many would soon inherit their elders’ assets.

Of course, as they signed the ridiculous contract, those heirs never considered upholding the future agreement. Many planned to murder Kilian during the Sura Hunting Game, while others counted on their houses’ power and the country’s instability to weasel their way out of it. What a pity that the choice wasn’t theirs to make.

However, Kilian’s confirmation brought Jezebel no comfort. “And here lies the problem. Although she can’t dive into the Mortal Plane, as the Fehl Plane’s number one, my mother possesses a near-infinite reach. Throughout this world’s hidden cabals of fehl worshipers, how many does she secretly control? Even I don’t know. But before you can screw her over, she will make her move. How do you handle that?”

A fair question. As the Fehl Plane’s highest ruler, in most informed magi’s eyes, Ashera was the multiverse’s strongest. In fact, those with the power to defeat her didn’t exist in the proper sense. Worse, she excelled at corruption. Across the multitude of mortal worlds, how many hidden worshippers did she possess? Kilian wouldn’t be surprised if the daemoness could summon hordes of zealots from various worlds to hunt him down.

“In the average magus’ eyes, Astral Masters are gods, and Hierarchs high gods. Hierarchs stand at the summit of our multiverse, and no one knows if something lies above them. But I’ve heard stories of Hierarchs mysteriously vanishing, and considering my mother’s obsession with the Eye, I’d say there is another altitude.

If the Eye is her key to reach it, she’ll never give up. If push comes to shove, she’ll rather harm your soul than let the Eye slip out of her grasp. For three weeks I racked my brain to find a way that doesn’t end with you as my chained stepfather, and frankly, I don’t see any.”

Just like high-ranking fehls, Astral Masters or above couldn’t freely walk the Mortal Plane. In the Mortal Plane, those godlike entities’ outrageous Dra Reserves triggered a phenomenon known as Dra Imbalance, leading to Dra Storms and Elemental Typhoons. To avoid getting obliterated by the behemoths’ Dra Reserves, the Mortal Plane shackled them. So even if Ashera dispatched worshipers, they wouldn’t exceed Exarch-level.

However, this wasn’t just a matter of strength. Jezebel knew that for her mother, force was the last recourse. Ashera delighted in seamlessly toying with her targets’ lives. By the time they realized her influence, their hearts already belonged to her.

From non-magi to Astral Masters, too many fell to her plays. Even some Hierarchs couldn’t escape. Kilian may be an expert in Machiavellian maneuvers, but could he outfox the Overlord of Overlords?

But as Jezebel’s mind swirled in thoughts, Kilian smirked, and vanished to reappear at her back. Her eyes widened in disbelief.

“Odd isn’t it? You have already fully recovered, yet I can still sneak up on you. Why? Because your mind is unsteady and asking all the wrong questions. Do I have a plan? Can I outfox Ashera? None of that matters if you don’t even know where you stand,” Kilian whispered in Jezebel’s ear.

“A part of you wants to stand by me, to cling on what we have and build eternal memories. But another part reminds you that Ashera is your mother, the one to whom you owe everything. Torn between emotions and reason, you don’t know what to do. That is your problem,” Leaning over Jezebel’s shoulder, Kilian paused, letting his words sink in her mind before carrying on.

“I can’t blame you. Though you don’t see eye to eye on many things, she’s been your mother for 200 years and has never mistreated you. On the contrary, if you could turn your back on her without a second thought, I’d become wary of you.

But while we’ve reached a crossroad, I will not make you choose. Do whatever you wish to, how you wish to. Your life is yours, and as long as I have a say, you are free.” Leaving those words behind, Kilian turned heels, and returned to the party.

Alone, Jezebel closed her eyes. When Ashera first said the words “Kilian belongs to me, and me only,” for a second, her heart teemed with rage. Why did Kilian have to “belong” to anyone?

And even if he had to, by right, should he not be hers? What gave her mother the right to claim him for herself? But then, Jezebel realized she was the delusional one. From the get go, her job was to act as a stand-in and guard Ashera’s interests. She’d been hiding from the truth to enjoy those delightful days.

But now the truth bit hard, and for the first time in centuries, Jezebel faced a choice she didn’t know how to handle. To rebel and become an ungrateful wretch, or quietly go away? As for turning on Kilian, the thought never crossed her mind.

But then Kilian’s last words resounded in her mind, and though she didn’t know it yet, she made her choice.

…

Meanwhile, within Kars’ ducal palace, Klaus’s body lay in an amethyst crystal, hovering in an otherwise empty room. But for the first time in months, his lips twitched. Golden light surged from his chest—the sword keeping him sealed burst into smithereens—and his eyes opened wide.

At the same time, in a secret chamber of the imperial palace, four von Skoll elders worked on pulling Niklas out of his coma. They needn’t wait longer.

To the elders’ awe—Klaus appeared right in the room and aimed one finger at Niklas—firing a thin beam of golden light that nailed his forehead.

“Come, father, it’s time to clean the state.”