The regression of the damned

Chapter: 4

Are you completely out of your mind, Arthur?" Natalia whispered, her voice a sharp, urgent hiss that barely carried across the damp stone walls of the ancient ruins. She stared at him, her fingers tightening around the leather hilt of her silver rapier until her knuckles turned a stark, ghostly white. Her breath still rattled slightly in her chest, a lingering reminder of the foul, purple mana-blocking poison that had nearly claimed her life the previous night.

"Walking directly into the royal banquet right now is not just a risk. It is absolute suicide. General Henry has spent the last five years wrapping the entire royal guard around his finger. Every soldier in that ballroom answers to him before they answer to your father."

Arthur did not blink. He stood perfectly still in the dim moonlight filtering through the cracked stone ceiling, his face an unreadable mask of absolute calm. To any outsider, he still looked like the powerless, fragile prince who had spent his entire life being mocked by the court. But beneath that quiet exterior, his mind was operating like a cold, calculating machine, analyzing every variable, every timeline, and every possible reaction.

"Henry only possesses power because he commands the absolute trust of the King and the high council," Arthur replied, his voice entirely smooth, devoid of the frantic fear he would have shown in his past life. "He is viewed as the unyielding shield of Solaria. But a shield is only useful as long as the person holding it believes it is protecting them. If we strip that trust away in front of every high-ranking noble, every foreign diplomat, and every military commander on the continent, the foundation beneath his feet will shatter. The soldiers will hesitate. They will question his orders. And in a high-stakes battle, Natalia, a single second of hesitation is all I need to rewrite the future."

Natalia looked down at her blade, the silver metal catching the pale light, then cast her gaze back to the young prince. She had known Arthur for years as a distant, tragic figure, a royal born without a single spark of Aether magic in a world where magic dictated a person's worth. Yet, the sheer presence he exuded right now was heavier, darker, and far more terrifying than any magical aura she had ever encountered from the high mages of her homeland.

"He is a seasoned warrior, Arthur. The moment we step through those grand double doors and disrupt his celebration, he will not wait for a trial," Natalia warned, her blue eyes narrowing as she stepped closer to him. "He will draw his greatsword and cut us down where we stand, claiming we are assassins or madmen. How do you plan to survive the first ten seconds of his rage without a single drop of mana?"

"He will certainly try to eliminate us," Arthur agreed, a faint, cold smile playing on his lips as he reached into the inner lining of his black cloak. "But he will not succeed. A predator is most vulnerable at the exact moment he believes he has achieved total victory. Henry thinks you are dead, your body rotting in an alley, and he thinks I am locked in my tower, weeping over my broken engagement. He is unprepared for the truth."

Arthur pulled his hand out of his cloak, holding up a small, rectangular object made of dark, polished iron. It looked like a standard merchant's ledger, but a series of intricate silver gears and glass lenses were embedded along its edges. It was an encrypted recording crystal, a rare mechanical device used by underground trading syndicates to log high-value agreements without leaving a magical trace that could be tracked by palace sorcerers.

"What is that primitive device?" Natalia asked, her brow furrowing as she examined the clicking gears. "It carries no magical signature."

"That is precisely why it is valuable," Arthur murmured, his thumb resting lightly over the primary activation switch. "Our palace mages scan every inch of the ballroom for hostile spells, hexes, and hidden artifacts. But they do not scan for mundane merchant tools. This crystal contains the final, desperate words of the Whispering Blade cult leader from last night. Before I ended his life, I ensured he spoke very clearly. He confessed that General Henry provided the purple mana-blocking gas, detailed the exact amount of shadow-gold coins he was paid, and named the secret dead-drop location beneath the southern guard outpost where the transaction occurred."

Natalia’s breath caught in her throat, her chest heaving as the gravity of his words set in. She took an involuntary step back, re-evaluating the young man standing before her. "You forced a comprehensive confession out of a fanatical cult leader in the span of a heartbeat? I watched you from the carriage window last night, Arthur. You moved through those assassins like a ghost, but you only spoke to their leader for a few brief seconds before his throat was cut. When did you find the time to extract such meticulous details?"

"A few seconds is an eternity when a man realizes his life is draining into the dirt, and you know the exact structural weaknesses of the human body to press to unlock his tongue," Arthur replied quietly, his tone flat, completely detached from the violence he was describing.

He had no intention of explaining the existence of the system to her. The system was his greatest weapon, a cosmic cheat that allowed him to see the hidden threads of fate stretching across the world. But a cheat was only effective if its mechanics remained completely hidden from both enemies and allies alike. In his past life, his absolute trust had led him to the executioner's block. In this life, he would trust only his own calculations.

"The high nobles of Solaria are arrogant, but they are not entirely foolish," Arthur continued, turning his back to her and looking toward the narrow exit of the stone ruins. "They tolerate Henry's ambition because they believe he keeps them safe from the Obsidian Empire. Once they realize he is actively inviting the enemy into our house to s*******r foreign dignitaries, their self-preservation will override their loyalty to him."

Natalia stood in silence for a long moment, the cool night wind rustling her hair. She could hear the faint, distant sound of orchestral music drifting from the main palace structures across the courtyard, the grand banquet had already begun. The trap was laid, and she was the primary piece Arthur intended to drop onto the board.

"You are gambling with both of our lives on the hope that a room full of corrupt politicians will do the right thing," she said, though the suspicion in her voice was slowly being replaced by a grim, calculated resolve.

"I am not gambling on their morality, Natalia. I am gambling on their fear," Arthur corrected him, his hand reaching for the heavy wooden handle of the door. "Go into the adjoining chamber. I have prepared the traditional silver-stitched formal robes of the Elven diplomatic mission. They were salvaged from your secondary luggage before the cultists could burn it. Change quickly. The banquet has been underway for an hour, and our grand general is undoubtedly at the peak of his arrogance. Let us go and grant him the audience he deserves."

Natalia gave a single, firm nod, her expression hardening into the fierce mask of the Sword Saint she truly was. She turned and vanished into the darker recess of the ruins to change.

Arthur stepped out into the courtyard alone, the cool night air hitting his face. He pulled up the glowing blue interface of his system, the transparent text hovering silently in the darkness before his eyes.

[Current Objective: Expose General Henry at the Royal Banquet.]

[Estimated Fate Fracture Rate: 25%]

[Warning: Target's combat power exceeds current physical limits. Direct confrontation is highly discouraged. Prepare alternative strategies.]

"Direct confrontation?" Arthur muttered to himself, his fingers curling around the cold, black hilt of the Ghost-Forged Dagger hidden deep within his sleeve. "A direct fight is for fools who have nothing left to lose. I have a kingdom to save, a goddess to tear down, and an empire to burn. I will use every underhanded trick in the heavens before I ever swing a sword blindly."

He closed the interface with a thought, his eyes tracking the bright magical lights reflecting off the high stained-glass windows of the grand ballroom. The stage was set. The actors were in place. All that was left was to pull the first string and watch the entire illusion crumble.