Chapter 260 - 259. Crimson Reckoning (3)
The news of the massacre at the black market spread through the capital like wildfire, within mere hours. Whispers of nobles and nouveau riche blood staining the streets filled the air, chaos unfolding in the wake of the carnage. The King and his investigators scrambled to make sense of it all, trying to restore order to the disarray.
But they wouldn’t get far. There would be no leads to follow, no trail to piece together, because I was the one who had slaughtered them, and Lyall’s men had ensured that all traces were wiped clean.
The disappearance of the documents, the absence of the Lord who had overseen the operation, would be the perfect puzzle for them to struggle with. It would be their mystery to chase, but I knew better than to think they’d ever solve it.
"I checked all the documents, Master," Lyall’s voice crackled through the communication device as I sat back in the armchair, tea in hand.
The device, no larger than a small stone, rested gently in my palm. A faint glow emanated from the small mana stone embedded within it, allowing us to converse from any distance without the need for traditional wires or buttons. The afternoon light filtered through the curtains, but I remained still, waiting for the right moment to put the next step of my plan into action.
"I found more evidence—several other slaves bought using the same insignia," Lyall continued, his tone steady but laced with concern as it seeped from the communication device.
"Can you trace the identity of this person?" I asked, swirling the tea in my cup absentmindedly as I focused on his words.
"It will be tricky," he admitted.
"Get Damon and his people involved. He might have the connections we need," I instructed.
There was less that I knew about the royal family of Denril than I would have liked. Information about them was scarce, like a web of secrets tightly wound and hidden from prying eyes. But if I were to unravel this mystery, if I were to find the person involved in the transactions and the shady dealings, I needed more. Much more. Yet, because of my lack of solid information, I was stuck—still searching for any clue that might lead me to them.
It was frustrating, to say the least. I could feel the pieces moving around in my mind, just out of reach. I knew this person existed, I knew they were somewhere, hidden behind layers of power and privilege. But without the right lead, I couldn’t even begin to make sense of the tangled mess of connections surrounding the royal family.