Reincarnated in a novel: I am the villain!-Chapter 273 - 100 year conspiracy?

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Chapter 273: 100 year conspiracy?

The carriage swept through the inner sanctum of Crimson-Hold, the violet flames of the Nightmares casting long, flickering shadows against the obsidian walls. 𝒻𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘸ℯ𝒷𝘯𝘰𝑣ℯ𝑙.𝘤𝑜𝘮

As they pulled up to the grand staircase of the Ducal Palace, the sheer scale of the architecture was suffocating.

Every pillar was carved to resemble weeping spirits, and the red mana lamps bathed the courtyard in a hue that looked like fresh arterial spray.

"We have arrived," Seraphina said, her voice regaining its icy composure.

She stepped out of the carriage, ignoring the sting of her side wound with a stoicism that reminded Damien once again of Elise’s stubborn pride.

Dozens of servants dressed in high-collared, charcoal-grey uniforms bowed in unison. They weren’t orcs or low-tier demons; they were high-humanoid abyssals, their skin pale and their movements unnervingly synchronized.

"Escort the Baron’s retinue to the Sapphire Wing," Seraphina commanded the head steward. She turned back to Damien, her eyes lingering on the white porcelain ’0’ of his mask.

"My father is currently in the War Room. He is... occupied with the Iron-Blood offensive, but I will announce your arrival. Do not wander, Baron Dante. The Palace has a way of swallowing guests who lose their path."

Damien offered a shallow, mocking tilt of his head. "I am quite good at finding my way out of dark places, My Lady."

.............

[The Guest Wing]

The guest quarters were a masterpiece of gothic decadence. The furniture was made of petrified abyss-wood, and the bedspreads were woven from the silk of Void Spiders.

Once the servants had withdrawn, Elian immediately began pacing the room, his breath coming in short, panicked bursts.

"Master, that statue in the square... did you see it? It was him. The Duke of Vane. I’ve seen portraits back when I lived on the surface in archives. It’s not just a resemblance—it’s the same man!"

"This means they have been operating on both the surface and the abyss for at least a hundred years! Just what kind of ambition is this!"

"We might have just unconvered a major secret!" he said, the shock in his eyes unable to be hidden

"Calm down, Elian," Damien said, standing by the balcony and looking out over the red-lit city. "I saw it."

Isabelle stood by the door, her hand resting on the hilt of her blade, her eyes scanning the corners for hidden seals.

"Master, if they are the same family, then the Duke on the surface is likely just a puppet or a clone. This man the one here is the real power."

"Exactly," Damien replied, his fingers tracing the iron Baron medallion.

"If the Vanes have been playing the Empire for so long, they aren’t just nobles; they are a bridge. A bridge I intend to cross."

He turned to Isabelle. "Your Will Cladding was effective against the Golem. But remember, the demons in this palace won’t fight like machines. They fight with blood so Keep your Will sharp."

An hour later, a messenger summoned Damien. He left Isabelle and Elian in the wing, walking through the palace corridors alone.

He didn’t reign in his presence; instead, he allowed his Hollow King’s Authority to leak out in subtle, heavy pulses. It was a silent declaration of status.

The doors to the War Room were ten-foot slabs of solid blood-stone. As they ground open, a wave of heat and the smell of iron hit him.

The room was dominated by a massive, glowing map of Layer 4. Standing at the head of the table was a man who seemed to draw the very shadows of the room toward him.

He was dressed in a black military uniform with silver epaulettes. His hair was a stark, moon-white silver, and his obsidian horns were long and curved, resembling a crown of thorns.

Duke Valerius Vane.

He looked up from the map. His eyes were a deep, glowing crimson, and his pressure was immense, a physical weight that tried to force Damien to his knees.

"So," the Duke’s voice was a rich, dangerous baritone.

"The ’Wandering Baron’ who rescued my daughter from an Iron-Blood blockade. Seraphina tells me you crushed a squad of Orcs and a Mana-Golem without a single drop of magic. She says your Will is... unique."

Damien walked forward, his boots clicking rhythmically on the obsidian floor. He stopped five paces from the table, meeting the Duke’s crimson gaze with the blank, empty stare of his porcelain mask.

"I find that mana is often too loud for such simple tasks, Duke Valerius," Damien said, his voice a cool, distorted purr.

"Will is much... cleaner."

He paused, glancing at the map, then back at the Duke.

"Though, I must say, your city is quite impressive. I especially liked the statue in the plaza. It’s curious... I’ve seen that exact face on the Surface. Minus the horns, of course."

The silence in the room became absolute. The guards in the shadows shifted, their hands going to their hilts.

Valerius Vane let out a slow, dark chuckle. "A Baron from the ’Deep’ who knows of the Surface? You are either a very well-informed ghost or a very brave fool."

"I am neither," Damien replied, his King’s Intent flaring for a split second—a sudden, crushing pressure that rivaled the Duke’s own.

"I am a man who knows that House Vane is currently losing a war of attrition to a bunch of Orcs who have better steel than you have blood."

Damien stepped closer, the ’0’ on his mask inches from the Duke’s face.

"I’m here to offer you a way to end this war. But in exchange, I want the coordinates of the passage to the Fifth Layer... and I want to know exactly how your ’Surface Branch’ is doing these days."

The Duke’s eyes flashed with a lethal spark of Blood-Ice.

"You speak as if you have the power to change the tide of a Noble war, Dante."

"I don’t just have the power," Damien whispered, his voice dripping with malice. "I am the power."

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