Chapter 298: Mastermind Revealed

Adrian's red eyes burned like embers as he stared at the weakened, flickering soul suspended within the containment crystal.

The Abyssal Harbinger had dared to mock them, to stall, to lie — and even now, after all the torture, it wore a smug veneer behind its pain.

Seraphina was already lowering her staff to seal the array completely when Adrian raised a hand to stop her.

"Wait," he said.

Seraphina blinked. "You want more?"

Adrian stepped forward, the air around him chilling as his presence shifted from restrained to utterly merciless. "Just one more session," he murmured, eyes narrowing on the barely-stable soul.

The Harbinger visibly recoiled, its once-proud form twitching in flickering strands of black mist. "W-What now?! You said—"

"I said we're done for today," Adrian said coldly. "But not before you feel the consequence of wasting our time."

A new formation activated at his side — a quick glyph, drawn by Adrian himself, embedded into the very ritual circle under the Harbinger.

The light that erupted wasn't holy like Seraphina's, nor dark like the Harbinger's nature — it was pure willpower, shaped and weaponized.

The chains reacted immediately, tightening again with a new pulse of energy — one that burned with identity. Adrian's essence.

The soul shrieked.

It wasn't just pain.

It was personal.

"You want to act clever?" Adrian said, voice ice over fire. "Then start thinking. Because if you can't give me an answer about how to undo that curse next time… I'll make this your daily routine."

"D-DAILY?!" the Harbinger wailed, contorting violently in the chains. "You—insolent spawn of flesh—you think you can—?!"

Adrian leaned in, just far enough that his shadow fell across the crystal's surface.

"I've been more patient than most men would be. But I am not most men. If your cursed little ego is more important than your continued existence, then so be it."

He stepped back, voice calm now. "Think, Harbinger. Think hard. Next time, I'll bring a saintess. And when she purifies you, you'll be lucky if there's a speck left to scream."

The soul went still. Quiet. Uncertain. And that was enough.

"Seal it, Seraphina," Adrian said at last.

With a final wave of her staff, the containment crystal dimmed completely. The runes faded to dormant hums, and silence fell over the chamber once more.

Adrian turned on his heel, Seraphina following behind him as they exited the room, the heavy metal doors sealing behind them with a muted thud.

Once they were safely outside, Seraphina glanced at him. "That was a bit much."

"He deserved worse," Adrian muttered. "I needed him to believe I'll keep my word."

She nodded, but her brow furrowed. "So… do we follow through with what he said? Let him use one of us to channel the curse?"

Adrian's jaw tightened. "Not yet. We don't even know what his real intention is. He's manipulative. If we give him an opening, he might latch onto us."

"I could act as the anchor," Seraphina offered. "My spirit is far more fortified than most. I can seal him off if it goes wrong."

Adrian shook his head. "We prepare everything first. Reinforcements. Fail-safes. I won't gamble with your life — or anyone else's — until we've exhausted every other method."

Seraphina sighed but didn't argue.

They turned down a side corridor, Adrian's mind already racing through possible alternatives.

Could they mimic the Harbinger's energy signature? Force the curse to collapse with a falsified resonance? Or perhaps—

"Brother!"

A familiar voice echoed from down the hallway. Christine, breathless and wide-eyed, was running toward them, clutching her skirt in one hand and a folded note in the other.

Adrian's senses sharpened at once. "Christine?"

She skidded to a halt in front of him, chest heaving. "Big brother, you—you need to come to the meeting room. Now."

"What happened?" Seraphina asked, already moving.

Christine was still catching her breath when she held out the folded note to Adrian, her eyes wide with urgency.

"We just got the full confession from one of the cultists," she said quickly. "They... they told us everything. Who they were working for, where they got their orders, the funding, everything."

Adrian's eyes narrowed. "And?"

"You and Aunt Seraphina need to come now. Everyone’s in the meeting chamber.”

That one name instantly shifted Adrian’s expression from calm to calculating.

Seraphina gave Christine a quick nod. "Lead the way."

Without another word, Christine spun on her heel and led them swiftly through the manor’s corridors, her steps quick and steady despite her obvious agitation.

Adrian’s mind sharpened with every turn they took. The cultists had already been dangerous. If this was what he suspected… it might be the beginning of something far worse.

When they arrived at the strategy room, the air was thick with tension.

The rest of the Everhart women were already present, seated or standing around the long table where maps and documents lay sprawled.

Isabella stood at the head, as if awaiting Adrian’s arrival before making the final verdict. Her gaze shifted toward him, her usual composed demeanor tinted with a grim seriousness that rarely touched her features.

Rosalyn stood near her, lips pressed tightly, her eyes brimming with quiet fury. Chris sat beside her, fists clenched on the table.

Sophia leaned over a map, her gaze cool and focused. Eve stood near the door, arms crossed, her posture tense.

Isabella turned toward Adrian as he entered. “Lord Everhart,” she said without preamble. “We’ve uncovered something you need to hear.”

Adrian walked straight to the table. “Christine said you received a confession.”

Isabella nodded and raised a hand, gesturing to a parchment laid out near her. "One of the cultists cracked after a bit of persuasion."

Eve smirked faintly in the background.

“We weren’t expecting much,” Isabella continued, "but he gave us names. Supply routes. Safe houses. And—"

She let her voice drop slightly. “A noble patron.”

Adrian’s eyes narrowed. “Let me guess.”

Isabella’s crimson gaze met his. “Count Vortigern.”

A heavy silence fell.

Seraphina muttered under her breath, “Damn it.”

“The cult wasn’t just a scattered group of fanatics,” Sophia said, tapping the map.

"They were organized. Funded. Directed. And the Count wasn't just giving them coin—he gave them legitimacy. Land. Protection. Magical components that even black market mages would hesitate to touch."

Rosalyn added softly, “And permission to operate near his territories. He allowed them to spread the curse network that afflicted Christine’s mother.”

Christine clenched her fists. “He... he did this to my family.”

Adrian looked up, his voice low but unwavering. "He was never just corrupt. He was part of it all along."

Isabella exhaled slowly. “Which means we’ve directly attacked a noble with abyssal affiliations.”

“Yes,” she continued. “Which is why we need to be extremely cautious from here on out.”

Sophia looked up. “We’ve taken in the cultists. We’ve disrupted their operations. That’s enough of a declaration of war to Vortigern. If he wasn’t planning something before, he will now.”

Rosalyn added, “But we can’t act alone. If we go further without securing support, it might paint us as aggressors.”