chapter 14: Pawn after Pawn.

The mansion was quiet. Kraner stood at the edge of the grand balcony overlooking the sprawling gardens below, his silver hair catching faint glimmers from the moonlight spilling through thin clouds. He leaned casually against the railing, fingers drumming absentmindedly on its cold stone surface. His mind churned with thoughts as tangled as the ivy creeping up the mansion walls.

Behind him, footsteps echoed softly against the marble floor. They were deliberate yet hesitant—a sound he'd come to recognize over the past week. Perl. She had been watching him more closely since Jessica's fall from grace, her sharp blue eyes always lingering just long enough to make their presence known. But tonight, she didn't stop at the doorway or linger in shadow. Instead, she stepped fully into view, her golden skirt swaying gently around her legs like liquid sunlight.

Kraner didn't turn immediately. He let the moment stretch, savoring the tension crackling between them. Finally, he glanced over his shoulder, his lips curling into a faint smirk. "Ah, Lady Perl," he said, his tone light but laced with mockery. "To what do I owe this late-night visit?"

Perl crossed her arms tightly across her chest, her posture rigid despite her attempt to appear nonchalant. Her gaze flickered briefly toward the darkened horizon before settling back on him. "Cut the act, boy," she snapped, though there was no real venom in her voice. Just weariness. "We both know you've been pulling strings like some kind of puppet master. Others would know because they see you only as a slave, but I know. And now..." She hesitated, her jaw tightening ever so slightly. "...now, you've got half the household eating out of your hand."

Kraner straightened, turning to face her fully. For once, his expression softened, losing some of its usual smugness. There was something different about Perl tonight—not fear exactly, but vulnerability. A crack in the armor she wore so well. He tilted his head, studying her like a scientist might examine a rare specimen. "And why does that concern you?" he asked, his voice quieter now, almost gentle. "You're still untouchable, aren't you? The second Head maid of House Ruxnard, second only to Lady Tanya herself."

For a moment, Perl said nothing. Her hands fidgeted nervously with the hem of her sleeve, betraying the calm facade she worked so hard to maintain. When she finally spoke, her words came out clipped, each syllable carefully measured. "I'm not stupid, Kraner. I see how quickly things can change here. One wrong move, and even someone like me could find themselves cast aside." She paused, swallowing hard. "Which is why I'm offering you a deal."

A slow smile spread across Kraner's face, genuine amusement lighting up his icy blue eyes. "A deal," he repeated, leaning back against the railing again. "From YOU? Now this is unexpected."

"Don't flatter yourself," Perl shot back, though the edge in her voice lacked conviction. She took a step closer, her heels clicking sharply against the marble. "Look, I don't trust you. Not one bit. But I also know when to pick my battles. If I have to work with you to keep my position—and maybe even gain more influence—then so be it."

Kraner raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Work with me? Or under me?" he teased, his grin widening.

Perl bristled visibly, her cheeks flushing with indignation. "Watch your fucking tongue, slave," she hissed, taking another step forward until they were nearly toe-to-toe. "This isn't about submission. It's about survival. You want power; fine. So do I. Together, we could control this entire household without anyone realizing what hit them."

There it was—the raw truth laid bare between them. No pretense, no games. Just two people standing on the precipice of ambition, staring into the abyss together. Kraner felt a thrill run through him, electric and intoxicating. This was uncharted territory, even for him. Perl wasn't like Jessica, whose pride made her predictable. No, Perl was smarter, sharper, and far more dangerous. And yet, here she was, offering him her hand.

He reached out slowly, brushing a stray strand of blonde hair from her face. His touch was feather-light, almost tender, but his gaze remained piercing. "Tell me, Perl," he murmured, his voice low and hypnotic. "What makes you think I won't destroy you the same way I did Jessica?"

Her breath hitched, but she didn't pull away. Instead, she met his stare head-on, her own eyes blazing with defiance. "Because unlike Jessica, I'm willing to play dirty. Whatever you've done to her, whatever schemes you've cooked up—I'll match them tenfold if I have to. But if we team up..." She trailed off, letting the implication hang heavy in the air.

Kraner chuckled softly, shaking his head in admiration. "You really are something else," he said, dropping his hand to his side. "Fine. We'll play your game—for now. But don't mistake this for loyalty, Perl. If you cross me, I won't hesitate to crush you."

"I wouldn't expect anything less," she replied coolly, though a flicker of unease passed through her eyes. She extended her hand, palm facing upward, waiting.

Kraner hesitated for a fraction of a second longer than necessary, savoring the uncertainty radiating from her. Then, with a smirk, he clasped her hand firmly. Their grip was strong, almost too tight, as if each were testing the other's resolve. Neither flinched.

When they finally released each other's hands, the air felt charged, alive with possibilities. Perl smoothed her skirt absently, avoiding eye contact as she turned to leave. "Tomorrow," she said simply, her voice steady once more. "We start planning."

Kraner watched her go, his smirk fading into something darker, more calculating. "Tomorrow," he echoed softly, though she was already gone.

Finally, in the silence, he tapped absently at the edge of his System interface, its holographic display flickering before his eyes.

[System Status]

Points: 236

Wave Level: 74 → 224 (after allocation)

He exhaled slowly, letting the numbers settle in his mind. Progress—but not nearly enough. Not yet. His mother's gift had given him an edge, a tool to navigate this fragile human existence with precision. Yet even tools required fuel, and fuel came from chaos. From emotion. From breaking people apart, letting their sin overcome them.

Kraner stepped out of the nursery, closing the door gently behind him. The hallway was cool, almost cold, but the chill barely registered against his skin. His senses were attuned to something else entirely—the faint scent of perfume lingering in the air, mingling with the faint aroma of wine.

Lady Tanya's chambers were nearby, but his attention shifted elsewhere. Downstairs, in the west wing, where the drunk lord often stumbled through the night, muttering curses under his breath. A broken man, drowning in self-pity and liquor. Pathetic, really. But useful.

As if summoned by his thoughts, the sound of uneven footsteps echoed down the corridor. Kraner turned slightly, catching sight of Lord Ruxnard weaving unsteadily toward the library. His once-imposing frame was now slouched, his fine suit wrinkled and stained with red wine.

"Perfect timing," Kraner murmured, slipping into the shadows.

Lord Ruxnard collapsed onto the leather armchair, sloshing brandy into a crystal glass with clumsy hands. The amber liquid spilled over the rim, staining the pristine white carpet beneath his feet. He didn't notice—or care. His bloodshot eyes stared blankly ahead, unfocused, as if searching for something long lost.

Kraner lingered in the doorway, observing silently. This wasn't the first time he'd watched the lord descend further into ruin. Each night, the man unraveled a little more, his grip on reality loosening like threads pulled from a tapestry. Watching him, Kraner finally understood why Lady Tanya was so busy, leaving her poor children to him.

The man before him was no man of Ruxnard, with zero influence, his name dead in the water. He was drowning himself more and more, thinking everything would just solve itself.

'Now's the chance...' he thought, a mischievous smile arching once more.

"Lost everything, haven't you?" Kraner said finally, stepping into the room. His voice was soft, almost sympathetic, though his eyes gleamed with predatory intent.

The lord blinked sluggishly, his disheveled dark hair covering parts of his vision as he turned his head toward the intruder. "Who... who are you?" he slurred, squinting as if trying to bring Kraner into focus.

"No one important," Kraner replied smoothly, moving closer. "Just someone who understands pain."

The lord scoffed, taking another swig of his drink. "Pain? You don't know shit about pain."

"Oh, but I do," Kraner countered, his tone shifting ever so slightly. "Actually... to tell you the truth, I've seen kingdoms crumble. Families torn apart. Lives destroyed by those we trusted most." He paused, letting the words sink in. "Tell me, my lord, how does it feel to lose your wife's respect? To see her turn to others while you rot away in this house?"

The man stiffened, his grip tightening on the glass. "What.... Shut up," he growled, though there was no real force behind it.

"I'm merely stating facts," Kraner continued, circling the chair like a wolf sizing up its prey. "Lady Tanya deserves better than a shell of a man. Someone strong. Someone capable of protecting what's hers."

"And what makes you think you're that man?" Ruxnard spat, his voice rising with indignation.

Kraner chuckled softly, leaning down until his face was inches from the lord's. "Because unlike you, I have nothing left to lose."

For a moment, neither spoke. The tension between them crackled like static electricity, filling the room with an oppressive weight. Then, without warning, Ruxnard hurled the glass across the room, shattering it against the wall.

"You think you can waltz in here and threaten me?" he snarled, staggering to his feet. "You're nothing but a slave!"

Kraner could sense his rage, or rather, see his system notifications. But that was not the goal for now.

"Not just a slave, no, no, no... A slave with influence," Kraner corrected calmly, unfazed by the outburst. "Influence over your wife. Over your household. Even over your precious children."

The mention of the twins struck a nerve. Ruxnard froze, his anger faltering as fear crept into his expression. "What... what did you say?"

[sin of wrath detected +1]

[sin of wrath detected +1]

Kraner straightened, brushing imaginary dust from his sleeve. "Let's just say, accidents happen. Especially when certain... arrangements aren't met."

It was a bluff, a calculated risk designed to plant seeds of paranoia. Kraner placed his remaining points in Ember (Arcane). He felt a bit of pain inside him, as his human body was not meant for arcane magic, but this was a chance he didn't want to miss. His lips and tongue recited ancient words as a ball of purple light, pure energy, formed in his hand.

The lord's eyes widened in awe and surprise. "What... how? You are a human, a human slave.... or, you are a hybrid! Blasphemy!" he shouted, fear curling beneath his skin.

Kraner only smiled, pacing forward. "Let's say I use this and just erase you without leaving a single piece of evidence. What do you think people will say? That an Argon came within the mansion and killed you? No! People will say you took your drunk self somewhere else and went missing, you dumb fool. And I will make it so, as I have all the influence I need to make it a reality... and also, don't forget about your children—the same thing can happen to them as well..."

"So, what's it going to be?" he taunted.

And judging by the way Ruxnard paled, it worked. "You wouldn't dare," the lord whispered, though his voice lacked conviction.

"Try me," Kraner replied, his smile razor-sharp. "Or better yet, cooperate. Together, we can ensure your family remains intact, and your position secure. Better still, I can help you... in ways you could not imagine. You already know I am not your typical... slave."

Ruxnard hesitated, torn between rage and desperation, woken from his drunken state. Finally, he sank back into the chair, defeated. The fear of death lingered in his mind. "What do you want?"

"Simple," Kraner said, his tone deceptively casual. "Your full support money-wise. You have no connections and influence, but you've got deep pockets. And in return, I'll keep you and your family totally intact and safe."

The lord nodded numbly, his pride crumbling under the weight of his failures. He hadn't realized he had become so weak, so fragile in heart, that even an unknown slave could take advantage of him.

"So, it's a deal?" Kraner said, extending his hand forward.

The man couldn't help but look at him, his wicked smile sending shivers down his spine. He forced his hand to meet Kraner's.

"What are you? The devil?" he asked, shaking it in fear.

"...No, but he is related," he answered, confusing the half-drunk man even more.

As Kraner turned to leave, he allowed himself a small, satisfied smile. Another pawn moved into place.

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Thank you for reading guys, i appreciate it, i really do.