CHAPTER 99: A PROVINCE OF PUPPETS

Rhys stood in the quiet of his personal chambers, his mind focused on the complex weave of his own power. It was in this moment of quiet contemplation that the connection broke.

It was not a gradual fading or a slow weakening. It was a sudden, violent severing, like a string being snapped.

One moment, he was connected to Whisper, his silent spy, seeing the world through its intangible eyes.

The next, there was nothing. Just a void where the connection had been.

Rhys’s eyes snapped open. The calm in his chambers was shattered. He reached out with his will, trying to find the thread of their connection, but there was nothing to find. Whisper was gone.

Just before the connection had been completely erased, a single, fragmented thought, the last desperate report from his servant, had flashed through his mind.

It was not a full sentence or a clear image. It was a single sentence filled with urgency.

Replaced...

Rhys stood up, his fists clenching at his sides. His mind, usually so calm and analytical, raced to find an answer.

Who had the power to not only detect but instantly destroy his Ashen Phantom? Who had the ability to replace an entire ruling class without a single battle?

Who had the motive, the madness, to attempt such a silent, terrifying conquest?

There was only one answer. One name that fit the impossible scale of the crime.

’Kaelen...’

The name was a spark in the dry tinder of his mind, and it ignited a fire of pure, cold rage. He had killed Kaelen.

He had used his Decree of Unmaking, a law of his own Origin, to erase the demon from existence. He had felt the life leave him, had watched his body turn to ash.

He had been sure, absolutely sure, that it was over.

But he had been wrong.

The demon had found a way to be reborn again, and the most infuriating part was that Rhys had met him in the flesh. If he had killed Joric that day...

’It’s fine. Let’s kill him again..’

[Host, this conclusion is premature. The entity known as Kaelen was defeated. His power, while significant, was no match for your own. Where would he acquire the confidence, let alone the resources, for such an operation? This method of control is different from what he displayed previously. It suggests a new variable.]

Rhys’s rage was a physical thing now. The air in his chambers grew cold. A faint, grey aura of ash and silver starlight began to emanate from his body.

"It’s him," Rhys’s mental voice was a low, dangerous growl. "I can feel it. This is his style. The obsession, the madness. He is the only one who would do something like this. He is playing a game with me."

[Caution is advised. To move without information is to walk into a trap. We should gather more data before—]

"No." Rhys cut it off. The time for caution was over. The time for analysis was over. This was no longer a strategic problem to be solved.

This was a personal insult to be answered.

"Whatever he’s plotting, I have killed him once, and I will kill him again. If he returns, I will kill him until he fears returning. I will erase every trace of his existence from this world until not even a memory of him remains."

He turned and strode from his chambers, his grey cloak swirling behind him like a storm cloud.

Rhys found Seduction lounging on her crystal throne in the main hall, a bored expression on her perfect face.

Sera was asleep in her lap, her small chest rising and falling in a peaceful rhythm.

"I am leaving," Rhys said, his voice flat and cold.

Seduction’s lazy smile faltered. She sat up, her pink, heart-shaped pupils widening as she sensed the cold fury radiating from him.

"Husband? What has happened?"

"There is a pest that needs to be exterminated," he said simply. He looked down at the sleeping form of Sera. For a moment, the hard lines of his face softened.

He gently stroked her hair. "Look after her."

He did not wait for a reply. He gave a single, sharp mental command. The Ashen Behemoth and the silent Titan, Stony, who stood guard over his cities, received their new orders.

Protect the Emporium. Protect Sera. Allow no one to enter or leave until he returned.

Then, he focused his will. A vortex of white light tore open the air in the centre of the hall. He stepped through it without a backward glance.

He was gone.

The air of the mortal world was thick with the stench of death and decay. Rhys appeared in the sky above the Ashton clan’s capital.

He did not bother with stealth. His Shroud of Forgotten Echoes was still active, but his aura, his killing intent, was a palpable force that washed over the city below.

He saw it just as Whisper had. The city was a perfect, silent stage. The guards on the walls were puppets, their movements stiff and unnatural.

The people in the streets were empty shells, their eyes vacant. He flew straight to the family estate, his form a grey blur in the sky.

He passed through the walls and into the grand council chamber.

He saw the dead elders, their bodies arranged around the table like a grotesque art installation. He saw his uncle, the patriarch, his face a frozen mask of surprise.

There was no sign of a struggle. They had been taken without a fight.

He searched the entire estate. He tore through every room, every secret passage. He was looking for one person.

He was looking for Joric Ashton. But he was not there. There was no sign of him, no trace of his energy.

Rhys left the dead city and moved on. He flew to the Thorne family’s territory. It was the same. A city of the dead, ruled by puppets.

He went to the Sterlings, then the Crestfalls. The same horrifying scene repeated itself in each location.

The entire leadership of the province had been hollowed out, their bodies now just marionettes in a silent, terrifying play.

His anger grew with each city he visited. This was not just a conquest; it was a desecration. Kaelen had not just killed his enemies; he had stolen their bodies, their very identities. It was an act of ultimate contempt.

Finally, he reached Azuregard, the royal capital. The golden city was a silent tomb. He flew straight to the royal palace, his patience worn thin.

He passed through the opulent halls, his presence a cold wind that stirred the dust on the forgotten furniture. He reached the throne room.

He saw the dead king on his throne, his crown askew. He saw the dead royal family, their fine clothes now just shrouds for their empty bodies. The entire room was a monument to a fallen dynasty.

But here, in this room of the dead, he felt something.

It was a faint flicker of life. A spark of consciousness hiding in the deep shadows behind the throne. It was a familiar energy, one he had encountered in the Labyrinth.

Rhys turned his head slowly, his pitch-black eyes fixing on the shadows.

"Come out," he said, his voice quiet but carrying an absolute authority.

For a long moment, there was no response. Then, the shadows seemed to deepen, to coalesce. A figure emerged, not of flesh and blood, but of pure, solidified darkness.

It was a tall, slender being with no discernible features, just a vaguely humanoid shape made of living shadow.

It was Shade, Daemon Azure’s netherworld spirit.

It was the only living thing left in the palace. It bowed its head, a gesture of submission to the overwhelming power before it.

"Where is he?" Rhys asked, his voice a low growl.

Shade did not speak with a voice. Its thoughts flowed directly into Rhys’s mind.

He is not here. The one you seek, the fusion of Joric and Kaelen, he has taken them all.

"How?"

He did not fight them, Shade explained.

He did not need to. He poisoned them. He found a way to corrupt the blood of the spiritual beasts in the Whisperwood. After the great beast tide, the families celebrated. They feasted. They ate the meat of the beasts they had slain, not knowing that every bite was a dose of his poison.

Rhys’s blood ran cold. The sheer, insidious cunning of the plan was staggering. This also meant...

"Whoever ate the meat of the spiritual beasts are now his pawns..."

Yes. Everyone who ate the meat became his puppet, Shade continued. Their minds were erased, their souls consumed. Their bodies now obey only his will. The entire populace of the province is now his personal army.

The scale of it was immense. Kaelen had not just taken over the great families; he had enslaved the entire province.

Every soldier, every merchant, every farmer who had celebrated the end of the beast tide was now a mindless soldier in his growing army.

Rhys’s own city, the Eon Emporium, was an island of life in a sea of the living dead.

"The heirs?" Rhys’s voice was dangerously quiet. "What happened to the five of them?"

A wave of something that felt like regret passed from the shadow spirit.

They returned from their meeting with you. They went back to their families to deliver your contract. They were celebrated as heroes. They attended the victory feasts.

The unspoken conclusion hung in the air. Aiden, Daemon, Joric, Lysander. They were gone. The celebrated heroes were now the lead puppets in Kaelen’s grotesque theatre.

But one survived, Shade added, its thought a sudden spark of new information. Among the heirs, only the Sterling heir escaped.

Rhys felt a flicker of surprise. "Anya Sterling? How is that possible? Was she stronger than the others?"

No. It was not a matter of strength. She was saved by a simple choice, a habit. Shade’s thought was tinged with a strange irony.

She is a vegetarian.

Rhys stared at the shadow, processing the absurd simplicity of it.

Anya Sterling, the sharpest and most pragmatic of the heirs, had survived the complete downfall of her civilization because she did not eat meat.

The irony was so thick it was almost laughable. In a world of cultivators who devoured beast cores for power, a simple dietary preference had been the key to survival.

She realised what was happening, Shade explained.

She saw the change in her family first. The blank eyes, the perfect obedience. She saw it in the other heirs when they communicated through their transmission tokens. She knew she could not fight an enemy who had already won. So, she fled.

"Where did she go?" Rhys asked, his mind already calculating.

There was only one direction she could run where his army of puppets could not easily follow. She fled east, towards the Endless Ocean. The one you seek is hunting her now. He wants to complete his collection of heirs.

The final piece clicked into place. His rage now had a focus. Kaelen was not hiding in one of the dead cities. He was on the move, chasing the last free heir across the province.

"Why are you telling me this?" Rhys asked, his gaze narrowing on the shadow spirit. "Why help me?"

My master is gone, Shade replied, its form flickering.

His consciousness is erased, his body a puppet. My contract with him is broken. But I am a being of the netherworld. I value order and contracts above all.

The one you seek has brought chaos. He has broken the world. My only remaining purpose is to see that order restored. You are the only one with the power to do so.

Rhys nodded slowly. He understood. Shade was not his ally, but their goals aligned.

Be warned, Shade added. He is stronger now. Consuming the souls and vitality of an entire province has elevated his power. He is no longer the same enemy you fought in the Labyrinth.

"It doesn’t matter," Rhys said, turning away from the throne room. He began to walk out of the dead palace, his footsteps echoing in the silence. "He made this personal."