CHAPTER 447: SOME FAMILY DRAMA

The moment my feet touched the polished marble of the palace hall, I extended my perception outward like a wave. Within seconds, the entire palace unfolded in my mind’s eye like a three-dimensional sketch, every room and corridor etched into perfect clarity.

It was almost eerie. A palace this large should have been crawling with attendants, guards, servants, cooks, and runners. Yet, there was nothing—no heartbeat, no breath, no nervous whisper echoing down the grand halls.

Nothing but two distinct presences, sharp and oppressive, both radiating the unmistakable pressure of grandmasters.

And both marked, unmistakably, by the Dark Moon.

The emblems were everywhere, from the banners hanging above each hallway to the insignia carved into pillars and etched into glass windows.

I let a slow breath out, weaving Essence through my Resonance, adjusting my resonance until my aura slipped beneath any perception. To them, I was gone. A ripple erased before it could be noticed.

Step by silent step, I wandered.

The halls were ostentatious: crimson carpets embroidered with silver threads, murals painted and framed in gold depicting the Dark Moon’s conquests, and huge chandeliers hung everywhere.

I took my time, drifting between corridors, until a particular chamber caught my attention. A lock, heavy with runes, barred its door. The wards hummed faintly, pulsing with layers of defense designed to keep intruders out. My lips curved faintly. They didn’t expect someone like me.

One brush of my Psynapse was enough. Essence slid into the runic lines, overwrote them with Absolute command, and the wards went dormant, like a flame snuffed out. The heavy doors whispered open.

Inside lay the library.

Rows upon rows of towering shelves lined the walls, each one stuffed with books and papers.

"Perfect."

I didn’t waste time. My Psynapse surged, and the room became alive with strands of perception.

Every page, every rune, every single word of ink flared within my mind. Words, diagrams, records of battles, lists of resources, architectural schematics everything poured in like a flood.

Five minutes. That was all I needed. By the time I stepped back, I had consumed the library whole. My Psynapse carried it, etched it into memory.

I let the doors close silently behind me.

By then, Kim had already moved deeper into the palace. I caught her presence shifting, her steps light but hurried, the confidence of someone who believed she was untouchable here. I shadowed her, my aura still wrapped tightly against detection.

She moved through a wide set of double doors and entered a chamber where the second grandmaster waited.

I scanned him the moment I laid eyes on him.

[Rocks Dave – Level 271]

Tall, broad-shouldered, his armor etched with lines of black and silver. His aura pressed outward like grinding stone, dense and harsh. A man who carried violence in his bones.

"Finally," he said, his voice rough, impatient. "You took your time."

Kim exhaled dramatically, as though the air itself had wronged her. She tugged at her gloves and wrinkled her nose.

"You don’t understand, Rocks. Traveling outside... it’s suffocating. The dirt, the filth, the crawling masses. I swear, every time I’m forced to look at them, I feel like my eyes are soiled. I’ll need a long bath to wash it all off."

Rocks chuckled, the sound low and unpleasant.

"And yet they’re useful." He leaned back against his chair, folding thick arms across his chest.

"The quota rises every cycle. If they don’t break their backs gathering abomination heads, if they don’t strip the mines for materials, our armors won’t be built. The Dark Moon doesn’t tolerate failure."

Kim’s lips curved in a sharp smile. "Then we don’t let them fail. We squeeze them harder. If they can’t meet quota, they can die. Others will take their place."

She brushed a strand of hair back, her tone almost bored. "Honestly, I’m tired of hearing excuses from the weak. They should be grateful we give them purpose."

I stayed in the shadow of a pillar, silent, watching.

The way she said it, the casual cruelty, the sheer disdain was enough to confirm what I already suspected.

These two weren’t just rulers; they were parasites. They fed on the suffering of the people beneath them, using power as a leash, their faction’s emblem as a brand.

Rocks tilted his head, eyes narrowing. "And the abominations? I hear the numbers are dwindling around Zeula. They’ll have to push farther out to meet the counts."

Kim shrugged lightly.

"Then they’ll push farther. It’s not our problem if they die along the way. We need the materials, and the Dark Moon will not forgive shortages. Better to lose a few hundred peasants than to lose standing with the council."

Rocks nodded, his eyes narrowing as silence stretched between them. Then, with a faint smile tugging at his lips, he said, "Ohh... your level increased."

Kim stiffened, just slightly, before forcing a casual tone.

"Yes. The space fluctuations were caused by an abomination using space laws. It annoyed me, wasted my time... so I fought and killed it."

Rocks’ smile deepened, his voice softening with mock concern.

"Ohh, is that so? You must be tired. Go and rest, my wife."

Kim dipped her head in acknowledgment, her tone brisk.

"Yes, I need to. Please inform the leader it was a false alarm."

Without another word, she turned on her heel and left the chamber.

The instant the door shut behind her, Rocks’ smile collapsed.

A scowl twisted across his face, and he slammed his hand into the table before him. The heavy wood shattered with a deafening crack, splinters scattering across the floor.

"Fucking bitch," he spat, his voice dripping with venom.

He began pacing the room, heavy steps echoing against the marble floor. I watched in silence. The man wasn’t angry now, he looked troubled, almost cautious, as if turning something over in his mind.

After a few restless moments, he snatched up his communicator and dialed.

"What’s the update, Rocks?" came a rough, gravelly voice from the other side.

"It was a false alarm, Harold," Rocks replied smoothly. "Just an abomination meddling with space laws."

"An abomination?" The voice sharpened. "Since when do abominations wield that kind of power, to shake the capital itself?"

"That’s why I sent Kim," Rocks said quickly. "It was her conclusion."

A beat of silence. Then the voice eased.

"...All right then."

The line went dead.

Rocks lowered the device, his jaw clenched tight. His knuckles whitened as his grip tightened until the communicator cracked under the pressure, the faint sound of breaking metal filling the chamber.