The Sinful Young Master

Chapter 430: Power behind the scenes

Minister Richardus’s Residence

The minister’s private hall was spacious and elegantly appointed, but Richardus wasn’t appreciating any of it. He paced back and forth like a caged animal, his eyes constantly drifting toward the large window that faced in the direction of Milan’s villa.

It had been over an hour since Justiciar Halvren had departed with the Shinokishi and Aethar Corps. More than enough time to arrest one man, no matter how skilled he was.

The silence was becoming unnerving.

Hernais Rothgard sat in a chair near the window, his fingers drumming an anxious rhythm on the armrest. His son Varnik stood nearby, trying to appear confident but clearly feeling the tension.

”It’s taking too long,” Hernais said, breaking the silence.

”Five hundred elite knights and forty-five combat mages should have overwhelmed him within minutes.”

”Perhaps they’re being thorough,” Varnik suggested, though he didn’t sound convinced.

”Making sure there’s no chance of escape.”

Richardus stopped pacing and turned to face them. ”Or perhaps Baron Kaezhlar is proving more difficult than anticipated. Again.”

His voice was tight with barely controlled anxiety.

”He’s one man,” Hernais insisted.

”Against an army. There’s no way—”

The explosion cut him off.

It wasn’t close—the villa was several blocks away—but the force of it rattled windows throughout the district. A blast of green energy erupted into the sky, visible even from this distance, followed by what sounded like thunder but carried wrong, almost bestial.

Richardus’s face went white.

”No. No, that’s not possible.”

Then came the roar.

It shook the very foundations of the building. Birds exploded from trees across the city, fleeing in panic. Dogs began howling. People in the streets stopped and looked around in confusion and fear.

The sound was primal and ancient, carrying power that resonated in the chest and made survival instincts scream danger.

Richardus didn’t hesitate; he didn’t dare to. That was a lot at stake here, for him.

Without a word, he ran from the hall, his robes billowing behind him as he sprinted toward the Ministry building. Whatever was happening at the villa, he needed to be somewhere secure, somewhere he could claim ignorance if things went wrong.

Hernais and Varnik exchanged panicked looks before running after him, all pretense of dignity abandoned.

*

Imperial Palace Gardens

Princess Tamnarasi sat on a stone bench in one of the palace’s more private gardens, her body still recovering from the wounds Jolthar had inflicted during their battle. The healers had done remarkable work, but some injuries—especially those inflicted by void energy—healed slowly even with divine assistance.

Her elder brother, Prince Yaknapati, sat beside her.

All of a sudden, there was a tremor; it was faint, the tea cups on the table rattled slightly.

They looked towards the city; their expression was one of surprise and intrigue.

”Do you think its because of him or the army, who is causing it?” Yaknapati asked his sister.

She looked at the empty space before her and said after a moment of silence, ”It must be him. Our men aren’t capable of such a feat.”

”The Prime Minister authorized deployment of the Shinokishi,” Yaknapati was saying.

”Along with the Aethar Corps. They must have attacked him today.”

He had been updating her on the situation in the capital, including the escalating conflict between Baron Kaezhlar and the ministries.

”That’s excessive force,” Tamnarasi observed, her voice still carrying some of the weakness from her injuries.

”Five hundred knights and dozens of mages for one person?”

”Given what that one person is capable of, perhaps not,” Yaknapati replied.

”You of all people know he’s extraordinarily dangerous.”

Before Tamnarasi could respond, the distant explosion reached them. Both royals turned toward the source, and moments later, the roar echoed across the palace grounds.

Yaknapati stood immediately, his warrior instincts recognizing the sound for what it was.

”That’s not human.”

”No,” Tamnarasi agreed, also standing despite the pain it caused.

”That’s something else entirely.”

The roar continued, and with it came waves of pressure that even from this distance made Tamnarasi’s enhanced senses react. She knew that feeling—the overwhelming presence of something powerful beyond normal measure.

”It seems the ministers are stirring up a lot of trouble just to deal with a single person,” Yaknapati observed, his tone carrying disapproval.

”Don’t underestimate him, brother,” Tamnarasi said firmly.

She had been following Jolthar’s activities since their battle, receiving daily reports from Yaknapati about the young baron’s conflicts and confrontations.

”I fought him. I felt his power directly. And I have lost. Completely and utterly.”

Yaknapati looked at his sister with concern.

He moved closer to hold her hand, he could tell that she was aching from the wounds. ”You don’t resent him for that?”

She took his hand to hold herself.

”I did. Initially.” Tamnarasi’s expression was complex.

”But the more I’ve reflected on our battle, the more I’ve realized something. He was holding back against me. He could have killed me, but he chose not to. And fighting him... it opened my eyes to how limited my perspective had become.”

”What do you mean?”

”I spent my entire life in the capital, believing I understood power because I commanded the Dreadmarchen,” Tamnarasi explained.

”I thought divine blessing made me invincible. But Jolthar showed me there’s a whole world beyond these palace walls—people who’ve earned their strength through struggle, who’ve faced things that would break most warriors, who’ve grown powerful not through birthright but through necessity.”

Another roar echoed across the city, this one carrying even more force.

”He’s fighting them,” Tamnarasi said with certainty.

”The entire force. And from the sound of it, he’s not losing.”

”Father will hear about this,” Yaknapati said quietly.

”The Emperor doesn’t usually involve himself in ministerial matters, but deploying the Shinokishi requires his indirect approval. If this turns into a disaster...”

”It already is a disaster,” Tamnarasi replied.

”The only question is whose disaster it becomes.”

She found herself hoping, despite everything, that Jolthar survived. Because she wanted another chance to fight him—properly this time, when she was healed and he wasn’t being ambushed by corrupt officials. A real test of skill between equals.