The Kingmaker System-Chapter 403 - 402. First Outdoor Mission (2)

We took our seats, the soft velvet cushions sighing beneath us as we settled in. Lyall, precise and unobtrusive as ever, stepped forward and set down a tray of refreshments on the polished table between us. The glasses clinked gently as he poured the drinks—non-alcoholic, of course.

I reached for my glass, cool to the touch, and took a slow sip. "How is business these days?"

Kai—no, Ace now—swirled his drink with casual grace, the deep burgundy liquid catching the chandelier light above. "The peace treaty would open the doors to Denril’s markets as well," he said, his voice carrying a well-practiced ease. "So I suppose you could say I’m on the verge of expansion."

Good. His tone, his posture, even the glint in his eye—all of it had shifted since our little reminder earlier. He sat like a man used to dominion, legs crossed at the knee, one arm thrown over the armrest, the other handling his goblet with slow deliberation. A figure carved in composure.

I leaned back slightly, fingers absently circling the rim of my own glass. "Denril’s architecture is quite impressive—or so I’ve heard."

He gave a faint hum of agreement. "It is. They specialize in arts and crafts. Even their merchant stalls are ornate."

"Hm. I suppose I should invest in some artists from Denril, then." I said thoughtfully, watching his expression.

He smiled, a flicker of approval crossing his face.

The room dimmed slightly as the play finally began. A hush rippled through the theatre like a tide retreating, and I let my body relax into the plush seat, shifting subtly to gaze around without drawing attention.

The theatre was gilded in warm amber lights, casting a golden sheen over the audience below. I could already feel the weight of several gazes pressing toward us. Seven—no, eight. Some from the stalls below, others from the surrounding balconies. And one particularly familiar stare from the adjacent balcony.

Lord Devil.

There he was, lounging comfortably with that ever-playful smirk, far more entertained by watching me and ’Ace’ than the performance he’d written. I gave him a brief, knowing glance before turning back.

"Then," I said, voice quiet but pointed, "shall we talk about the thing we came to talk about?"

Ace tilted his head slightly, red eyes gleaming like bloodied rubies beneath the stage’s low golden wash. His innocence had vanished, replaced by a sleek, calculated glint.

"Sure, Master," he said, the words coiling with hidden venom.

He was good—very good. I felt a swell of dark amusement. With a little more refinement, he’d wear the title of Disguise Master as naturally as his skin.

"The Princes will return next week," I began, my tone even. "Her Majesty asked me to stand by Prince Carlos’ side during the succession. But you know me—I don’t involve myself too deeply. Royal politics, after all, are a double-edged sword for us merchants."

Ace gave a slow smile. "And who do you think has the potential to be the next King?"

I smirked. "You’re really asking me that?"

"Well," he said, swirling his drink once more, "someone as perceptive as you must have thought about who would be best suited."

There was something dangerous in the way he looked at me—too composed, too sharp. I found myself smiling wider, the tip of my tongue brushing the inside of my cheek.

"I do have a perfect candidate in mind," I replied, letting my voice take on a teasing lilt. "But I couldn’t tell you. It would ruin the surprise."

Ace leaned in just a little, and said with the audacity of a seasoned politician, "I think you should support Prince Carlos."

That made me pause—just for a heartbeat.

He continued, eyes flickering with calculation, "Since the Queen is already powerful, backing her and the next King would bring you more profit than you have now."

I had to suppress the urge to laugh too loudly. My child was giving me goosebumps. Someone hand this boy an Oscar.

A soft chuckle escaped me, masked by a sip of my drink. The actors continued below, delivering lines that now seemed distant and irrelevant. I knew Lord Devil’s eyes were on us. I could feel the pulse of his interest, the way it crackled through the air.

"We’re merchants anyway," Ace said smoothly, "If anything happens, we can always cut off our tails and move elsewhere. Expand in peace."

I smiled. "True. But I gave the Queen a proposal. I told her I’d choose one of the two Princes based on a test. Let’s see which one proves to be a better investment."

I paused, then added with a sigh, "Though, it is a hassle to deal with the Queen’s assassins popping up everywhere like roaches."

Lyall, who had been standing silently, shifted. I glanced at him and gave the subtlest nod. His eyes sharpened, and he moved.

"It’s important," Ace murmured darkly, "to do some pest extermination—can’t let the diseases spread."

I turned my head ever so slightly, gaze locking with Lord Devil’s. His expression had changed—just enough. Curiosity edged into his features.

I mouthed, slow and clear: Close your ears.

Lord Devil frowned—just for a breath—but by then, it was already too late.

A deafening boom split the air, sharp as thunder and close enough to rattle the very bones. A blinding white smoke burst forth, flooding the theatre like a hungry tide. It poured over the balconies and swept through the rows, swallowing screams, gasps, and the first signs of chaos in its thick embrace.

From the shroud of smoke, my assassins emerged like wraiths.

They had been lying in wait, carefully positioned, blades sheathed in silence until the cue was given. Now, they moved with precision, striking fast and clean, like notes in a deadly symphony.

Kai and I remained seated, untouched in the eye of the storm. I barely shifted as I caught movement from below—a shadow lunging upward, blade glinting.

But Asher was faster.

He moved like lightning, his leg swung in a perfect arc before his booted foot dug into the assailant’s abdomen sending him back into the chaos below.

Around us, the theatre erupted in a chaotic chorus—panicked cries, bodies scrambling, metal clashing, muffled grunts. Then, gradually, as the smoke began to lift and settle like a dying breath, the noise began to fade.

Within minutes, the theatre stood eerily still.

The visibility returned in fragments, shapes emerging like ghosts from fog. The plush red seats were mostly empty now. The audience, if one could even call them that, had vanished. freewebnσvel.cøm

My assassins—disguised as common attendees—had retreated, vanishing with the majority of the enemy’s force. Only a couple of the Queen’s assassins remained, deliberately left alive. They were meant to escape. They needed to escape.

They would crawl back to the Queen and tell her what happened here—what always happens when she tries to tail me.

I wondered, not without a curl of amusement, what her expression would look like when she heard.

I turned slightly, glancing at Ace.

He was still staring down at the stage, where blood pooled like spilled ink beneath the rising haze. His ruby-red eyes shimmered, not with fear, but with something sharper—curiosity, perhaps. Awe. The innocence of his youth peeked through the cracks for just a moment, but he held his composure well.

"It finished pretty quickly," he murmured, almost to himself.

"That was the plan," I replied, my voice calm as ever. Efficiency was everything.

Just then, movement caught my eye.

Lord Devil stepped onto the stage with an almost theatrical flourish, utterly unfazed by the carnage around him. His expression was unreadable—part delight, part disdain, part something deeper I couldn’t place yet.

Kai and I peered down from the balcony, watching Lord Devil take slow, deliberate steps toward the center of the stage. His eyes flicked once toward the artists who had fled backstage, and then settled on the scattering of panicked audience members now clustered near the exits, shouting over one another.

"I apologize for the sudden chaos," he began smoothly, his voice cutting through the thick silence like a blade through silk. "It appears some pests followed a few of my esteemed guests to the venue. Drastic measures were taken to ensure your safety... so that you may continue enjoying the show."

"You must be joking, Lord Devil!"

"I thought we were going to die!"

"We demand to leave!"

Lord Devil tilted his head, unfazed by the angry voices. The soft smirk playing on his lips told me he was almost amused.

I sighed. Time to clean up the mess properly.

Kai looked over as I rose from my seat. I climbed over the railing with practiced ease and dropped onto the stage below, hands tucked casually in my trouser pockets. My boots hit the floor with a thud, startling the remaining audience into stunned silence.

"I apologize," I said coolly, my voice echoing through the high ceilings. "I’m Ocean Ryujin."

A collective gasp rippled through the room—even the two surviving assassins stiffened in their places.

"This chaos," I continued, "was my doing. And I ask for your understanding—not hostility—toward Lord Devil. He has been a gracious host in allowing me to deal with... unwanted company."

I allowed a sliver of my Dragon’s Presence to unfurl—cold, heavy, suffocating. It slithered through the room like smoke, curling into corners, pressing into bones. The atmosphere turned frigid, the air thick with tension, as if Death itself had taken a seat among the audience.

Eyes widened. Breath caught. No one moved.

"I ensured that no bystanders were harmed," I added with quiet finality. "So I hope you will return to your seats and enjoy the rest of the performance."

The crowd shifted uneasily. Then—

"If that’s not enough," Lord Devil stepped beside me, "I shall refund your ticket fare. Today’s performance shall be on the house. And for those who still wish to leave..." He smiled thinly, "Feel free to collect your fares on the way out."

A stunned silence followed. Lord Oberon’s written plays were infamously expensive, known for their elite audience and artistic grandeur. To attend one for free was a privilege no one in their right mind would pass up.

Murmuring quietly among themselves, the audience began to settle back into their seats—hesitantly, yes, but obediently. Even the assassins returned to their places, masked once more in civilian facades.

I turned to face Lord Devil.

"I hope the show was entertaining," I said with a smirk.

"I couldn’t see much through the smoke," he replied, mirroring my amusement.

I gave a low chuckle and turned to leave. "Then I’ll take my leave. My business here is done."

"Won’t you stay for the rest?" he asked, a glimmer of curiosity in his voice.

I paused, glancing up at Kai, who leaned against the balcony railing, watching me with a faint smile tugging at his lips.

"...I suppose I could spare a little more time."

"Wonderful," Lord Devil said with a clap of his hands, his voice rising to the rafters. "Then, let the show resume!"

I vaulted lightly back up to the balcony. Kai shifted slightly as I took my seat beside him once more. Lyall, now returned, stood silently behind us, ever-vigilant.

"Everyone has returned to their posts, Master," Lyall murmured.

I nodded without turning. My eyes were fixed on the stage, now alive with actors once more.

"This is going to be fun," I mumbled under my breath, just as I felt Kai’s gaze on me again—curious, quiet, and a little too fond.

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