Duke Levantus smiled faintly as he studied the chessboard before him. With a flick of his finger, he toppled a black pawn and asked the attendant kneeling at his side:

“Our tracks?”

“Erased cleanly, my lord. By now, they must be floundering in confusion.”

The duke had wasted no time in putting his plan into motion: abducting Aisha and using her as leverage to threaten Count Parden. It was reckless in a sense, but given the current situation, striking at an opponent’s weakness was worth any risk. And fortunately, the plan was already on the verge of success.

“The bastard child—he’s been taken as well?”

“Yes. The Marquess of Lloyd and the Parden boy stormed into House Hotlin.”

To the duke, the greatest contributor to this plan was without question Sarah Hotlin. A stroke of fortune, delivered by chance. She had made the duke’s scheme all the easier.

“Hm… even filth can prove useful, now and then.”

For reasons unknown, Sarah had plotted to abduct Aisha Parden. As he watched her approach her target, Duke Levantus seized his opportunity. He waited until her hired thugs had seized Aisha, and then snatched her away from them.

This meant there was little danger of him being discovered. Those searching for Aisha wasted their efforts chasing the traces that Sarah had left behind. Time was of the essence in this plan. The duke almost wished he could summon her to praise her in person.

“Three days from now, send word to Count Parden. Tell him to come find me. If he refuses, whisper that his beloved daughter will be found collapsed at some party, poisoned by a mysterious drug.”

“Yes, my lord.”

For now, the duke intended to use Aisha’s safety to silence Count Parden. Once the current crisis passed, he meant to turn the tables and crush him entirely.

“And when will the count’s daughter be ready to receive the goddess’s blessing?”

“At most ten days, my lord. By then, she’ll be beyond help and won’t know what she’s saying. The only thing she’ll want is the blessing, and she’ll obey any command that promises to give it.”

Levantus often used drugs to bend people to his will. Above all, there was one substance he relied on: the so-called ‘Blessing of the Goddess’. This name was a cruel mockery. Once a person was addicted, their ability to reason dissolved and they ceased to think altogether. All that remained was a puppet, scrambling for the next hit and grovelling before whoever held it. Addicts would scream for the Goddess’s blessing in their ecstasy, but to the Duke, it was merely a means of controlling them.

“Count Parden… that petty merchant will be beside himself with fear.”

The duke chuckled at the thought of his plan succeeding. It was a hearty laugh, which would have sounded pleasant were it not for the grotesque intent behind it.

“The daughter of the very man who sought to accuse me of trafficking drugs, becoming a drug slave herself…”

With Aisha broken by addiction, she would become his weapon. Count Parden would be trapped. He could not send his beloved daughter to the executioner’s block like any other addict. If it were revealed that the man leading the charge against illicit substances had a daughter enslaved by them, all his accusations would be exposed as a farce.

“I-I’ll do whatever you ask… anything, as you command.”

“Anything? Truly? Then could you pay with your wife and son in exchange for the next dose?”

“What? That’s…”

“The choice is yours. But I am a busy man, so I’ll take my leave for today.”

“Wait! I understand… take them. They’re inside. Just, please… please, give it to me. Quickly!”

The so-called blessing… Levantus flexed his fingers, remembering all the bones he had broken with them.

“…Even forcing her to accuse her own father of violating her would be worth watching. The thought alone delights me.”

Duke Levantus devised an evil plan that ordinary people could hardly have imagined. Those enslaved by the so-called Blessing of the Goddess would sell their own families and kill without hesitation. Once under its influence, it was easy to command them to betray or destroy their loved ones.

However, the drug was not without flaw, and the duke’s grotesque scheme had every chance of failing. Not all addicts obeyed blindly: some chose to end their own lives rather than harm their loved ones. Yet Levantus’s true aim lay elsewhere: to silence Count Parden before he could expose him to the Emperor; to uncover the secrets that the Count had discovered; and to eliminate the threat completely.

Now that Aisha was in his grasp, he considered the matter as good as done.

“That lowborn merchant… this time, I’ll finish him for good.”

Laughing aloud, the duke moved another piece across the chessboard. One by one, the white pieces fell before him, until at last even the king toppled.

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”Why are you asking me about Aisha Parden? She’s not your fiancée anymore, and yet you still seem awfully concerned.”

“…”

“More importantly, we’ll need to talk about us sometime soon.’ I cherished my marquise dearly, you know. It’s a shame things turned out this way. But traitors must be punished accordingly. Just wait — your turn is coming.”

Ian strode through the palace halls, grinding his teeth so hard that the sound echoed in his skull. Duke Levantus smiled easily; he hadn’t so much as flinched at the mention of Aisha’s name. Yet, from that confident, mocking smile, Ian knew with certainty that the duke was holding her.

Without proof, however, there was nothing he could do. If they were alone, he would have drawn his sword and threatened the duke immediately, but Levantus was never without his guards, as if he anticipated such an attempt.

Such was the man — meticulous to the last detail. Ian had kept close to Levantus for years, gleaning considerable information about the Old Nobles’ faction. Yet the things the duke truly wished to conceal had always remained beyond his grasp.

‘If only I could send enough men to scour every lead…’

Over the years, he had gathered information about suspicious places and clues here and there. However, he lacked the manpower and time to investigate them all. Even worse, if his search attracted attention and was uncovered, it was impossible to predict how the Duke would react.

Ian clenched his fists in frustration. Just then, someone appeared before him, casting a shadow across his face. Looking up, Ian called out:

“Edward.”

Edward’s face was just as gaunt and drawn as his own, worry etched deep into every line. At the sight of Ian, he let out a heavy sigh.

“The Countess of Hotlin has disowned Sarah Hotlin. She said that we can do whatever we want with her. But the girl has nothing left to offer.”

Sarah confessed everything during a harsh interrogation, but her confession was of little value. Daniel raged, vowing to cut off her fingers one by one to find out the truth, but that would have been a futile act of cruelty. Sarah Hotlin truly knew nothing. She had only ever been a smokescreen, a distraction designed to mislead them.

“What about the men who were watching the Duke?”

“Nothing…”

Edward’s voice was strained. He knew just as well as Ian who the real culprit was. Levantus moved about with a triumphant smile on his face, his eyes full of mockery. But there was no evidence, no trace — only an overwhelming sense of worry and helplessness.

“All I can do is pray that she comes through this unharmed.”

After a long silence, Edward bowed his head and mumbled the words. The duke’s plan was simple: seize Aisha in this moment of crisis, use her as a shield to escape danger and then attack Count Parden. It was obvious, perhaps even predictable, but no less effective. Ultimately, nothing mattered more to them than Aisha’s safety.

“…If there’s no word by tonight, I’ll go to the duke myself.”

Edward was prepared to prioritise Aisha above all else, even if it resulted in his family being branded traitors by the New Nobles. In truth, he had already half resolved to surrender to the duke, should it come to that.

Ian regarded him with a conflicted expression. If events continued to unfold according to the duke’s plan, House Parden would be in grave danger. Ian intended to help them as much as he could, but he did not know how much difference he could truly make.

Turning the matter over in his mind, Ian began to consider the enemies who would need to be watched if the duke had his way, one by one. Among them, he recalled a man who had been cast aside in the midst of the scheme: Count Hotlin — Sarah’s father and once one of Levantus’s closest confidants.

‘Count Hotlin is a capable man. He is as cunning as a serpent and as cautious as a bird.’

Even among the duke’s allies, he was renowned for his cold efficiency. Yet he was somehow caught up in the accusations surrounding the petition and thrown in prison. Levantus had favoured him greatly for over ten years, but when danger closed in, the duke abandoned him without hesitation and shifted some of the blame onto him.

Now disgraced and awaiting execution, Count Hotlin had been forgotten by all. However, recalling Hotlin’s former role at Levantus’s side, Ian turned on his heel and sprinted through the palace corridors.

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“Count.”

In the dark, stifling cell, Count Hotlin raised his head at the sound of his name and saw Ian. He looked wretched beyond belief: his shirt was in tatters; his body was stained with filth; and his matted, wild hair hung down around his face. Yet his eyes still gleamed with a piercing light.

“Well, look who it is. The filthy traitor himself.”

Perhaps because he was almost certainly going to be sentenced to death, Count Hotlin showed no fear. Having given up everything, he openly expressed his hatred. In truth, Ian had contributed to his downfall by aligning himself with House Parden, so the count’s loathing was not entirely unjustified.

“I came because I have questions.”

“And what answer could I possibly give a traitor like you?”

The count’s hostility was obvious, but Ian remained unfazed. He stepped closer to the iron bars. As he did so, Hotlin bared his teeth like a beast. The stench in the cell was so foul that it stung the nose, yet Ian did not so much as grimace. Instead, he struck at the Count’s deepest wound.

“I visited the House of Hotlin yesterday. It was a pitiful sight. With the master in such a state, those left behind have completely fallen apart.”