The Sinful Young Master

Chapter 447: Meeting the dark deity

“You want us to use Aunt Celestine as an intelligence source,” Liliana said, understanding dawning on her.

“To position ourselves where we can monitor and potentially influence developments related to Jolthar and other matters affecting the clan.”

“Precisely,” Segarus confirmed.

“If Jolthar Kaezhlar somehow survives the Dreadland Depths and returns to the capital, you will be there to observe and to understand what new alliances he’s forming and what protections he’s gained. And through Celestine, you may find opportunities to… complicate his situation in ways that cannot be traced back to Naemarys.”

He paused, then added with deliberate emphasis.

“The key to destroying someone powerful is not to attack them directly where they’re strongest. It’s to undermine them subtly—erode their support, create doubts among their allies, and ensure that when they finally fall, it appears to be through their own mistakes rather than anyone’s active opposition.”

Lorryll’s expression showed he was beginning to appreciate the sophistication of what his father-in-law was proposing, even if it required more patience than he preferred.

“We’ll depart for the capital tomorrow,” Liliana said decisively.

“I’ll send word ahead to Aunt Celestine that we’re coming to pay our respects and seek her guidance on navigating court politics.”

“Good,” Segarus said with satisfaction.

“And Lorryll—while you’re there, I want you to train. Find the best cultivation masters the capital has to offer. If you truly want to surpass Jolthar Kaezhlar, you need to unlock the potential within your own Kaezhlar bloodline. Jealousy won’t make you stronger, but dedication to your own development will.”

“I understand,” Lorryll replied, though his tone suggested he was still nursing his resentment even as he accepted the practical wisdom.

“Then we’re finished here,” Segarus said, returning his attention to the documents on his desk in a clear dismissal.

“Safe travels to the capital. And remember, patience and subtlety. Those are the weapons that win wars without ever appearing to fight them.”

Lorryll and Liliana bowed respectfully and departed, leaving the Patriarch alone in his study.

*

For several minutes after they left, Segarus continued reviewing his paperwork, apparently focused on routine clan business.

But there was a tension in his shoulders, a slight stiffness that suggested he was waiting for something.

Then the temperature in the room dropped and it happened in a few seconds.

It wasn’t a gradual cooling but an immediate shift, as if winter had suddenly invaded the study despite it being midday outside. The light from the windows seemed to dim without the sun actually changing position, and shadows in the corners of the room grew darker, deeper and more substantial.

A presence manifested in the study—not walking in through the door, not appearing with a flash of dramatic magic, but simply existing where nothing had been moments before. It was as if reality had decided that this spot had always contained a figure and only just now allowed mortal perception to notice.

The shape was humanoid but indistinct, wrapped in darkness that seemed to actively resist being observed clearly. It wasn’t shadow in the natural sense but something else—an absence of light and substance that hurt to look at directly and that made the eyes want to slide away rather than focus.

When it spoke, the voice came from everywhere and nowhere, carrying harmonics that resonated in the bones rather than the ears.

“You spoke of patience and subtlety to your son-in-law. Wise words. But they conflict with the timeline we discussed.”

Patriarch Segarus didn’t look up from his papers, though his hand holding the pen had gone very still. When he spoke, his voice was carefully controlled, showing neither fear nor defiance but rather the cautious respect one showed to dangerous forces.

“I’m moving as quickly as prudence allows. Pushing too obviously against Jolthar Kaezhlar creates risks of exposure that serve neither of our interests.”

“Your interests,” the shadow corrected with a tone that might have been amusement or might have been a threat—it was impossible to tell.

“My interests are quite simple and don’t particularly care about your political concerns. Jolthar Kaezhlar is becoming too powerful, accumulating too many protections, and developing abilities that threaten plans that have been in motion for far longer than your clan has existed.”

“If he dies in the Depths—” Segarus began.

“He won’t,” the shadow interrupted flatly.

“Stop allowing yourself to believe that convenient fiction. You know as well as I do that he is not a simple young man. He will survive the Depths. He will return stronger. And if nothing changes, he will continue to grow beyond anyone’s ability to control.”

Segarus finally set down his pen and looked directly at the shadow—an act that took visible effort, his eyes watering slightly from the strain of focusing on something that resisted perception.

“What exactly are you demanding I do? March into the capital and assassinate him publicly? Attack Tekkora with Naemarys’ forces? Both options would destroy my clan’s position and accomplish nothing except making martyrs and enemies.”

“I’m demanding,” the shadow said, its voice dropping to something that vibrated with underlying menace, “that you stop treating this as a political problem to be managed through courtly maneuvering and start treating it as an existential threat to be eliminated through whatever means necessary. The arrangements we made when I provided you with certain… advantages… included your commitment to remove obstacles to our shared goals. Jolthar Kaezhlar is such an obstacle.”

The temperature dropped further. Frost began forming on the windows despite the warm weather outside.

“You have resources beyond what you’ve shown your son-in-law. Connections to forces that don’t answer to imperial law or moral constraints. Use them. And do it soon, before Kaezhlar returns from the Depths with even more power and protection than he left with.”

“And if I refuse?” Segarus asked, his voice steady despite the fear that had to be coursing through him. “If I decide that the risks of moving against him outweigh the benefits?”

The shadow’s laugh was a sound that made the furniture in the room tremble.

“You won’t refuse because you remember what I can give and what I can take away. The power your clan has accumulated in recent decades, the exceptional cultivation techniques that have elevated Naemarys above rival houses, the intelligence that has allowed you to outmaneuver competitors—where do you think those advantages came from? Natural talent and hard work?”