Warlock Ch 380. Power Plays
Damian leaned against the mantle, choosing his words carefully. "The city's in turmoil. Power plays, betrayals... it's a ss. Lysandra—the dragoness you saw—ca seeking information."
Cedric's brow furrowed. "Information? About what?"
"An anomaly," Damian replied. "A powerful presence detected within the city. She's concerned about the balance of power."
The prince's eyes narrowed. "And she thinks Selena is involved?"
Damian shook his head. "No, but she knows Selena and I witnessed events at the S-rank examination. She wanted assurances that we're not contributing to the chaos."
Cedric exhaled slowly, tension evident in his shoulders. "I don't like this. Selena's position is precarious enough without dragons and assassins in the mix."
"I understand," Damian said, his tone steady. "But she's safer here than anywhere else right now."
The prince's gaze softened slightly. "She trusts you."
Damian t his eyes. "And I won't betray that trust."
A mont of silence passed between them before Cedric nodded, so of the tension leaving his fra. "Thank you."
Damian offered a faint smile. "We're all navigating this storm. Let's ensure we don't sink each other in the process."
The prince managed a small chuckle. "Agreed. Keep her safe."
"I will," Damian affird.
As Cedric rose to leave, he paused, glancing back. "If you learn more about this... anomaly, let know."
"Of course," Damian replied.
With a final nod, Cedric departed.
He turned, rubbing his temples. The roasted nightroot veggies were probably cold by now, and the mana-bread had lost its perfect fluff. But whatever, he was gonna eat anyway. He'd earned that damn lunch. One dragon general, and a worried prince in one morning. That had to qualify for at least one hot al, right?
He exhaled through his nose, quietly trudging back toward the dining room like a tired office worker clocking back in after a disaster eting.
"I need to resu my lunch," he muttered to no one in particular.
Of course, life had other plans.
The mont he stepped foot in the hallway, another ping echoed through his awareness—another shadow servant alert. He froze. His jaw twitched.
"You've got to be kidding ."
He turned around. Slowly. Like a man walking toward the guillotine. He didn't even ask who it was.
Because the mont the heavy double doors creaked open, he already recognized the mana signature. Sharp. Familiar. Balanced like a sword honed for political war.
Damian's shoulders sagged as he planted himself back in the middle of the living room, his face wearing the universal expression of 'What now?'
Aria stepped in, dressed in her usual muted violet robes, tailored so perfectly they sohow managed to scream wealth and authority without being flashy. She looked every bit the composed senator—the kind who didn't flinch during committee bloodbaths.
"Warlock," she greeted, her tone clipped, her hands folded behind her back. No bow. No nod. Just straight into business. "We need to talk."
Damian sighed and tilted his head. "Can't I eat my lunch in peace?"
Her eyes narrowed. "No."
Of course.
He gestured wordlessly to the sitting area. She didn't need the invitation, but she took it anyway, moving with the kind of grace that said, 'I'm not here for tea. This isn't friendly.'
Damian sat across from her, folding one leg over the other and leaning into the backrest like a man seconds from cracking a joke. He didn't.
"You look better than I expected," she said, her voice even. "All things considered."
"Thanks. I moisturize."
She didn't laugh. Aria rarely did. Instead, she watched him closely, her expression unreadable but very, very sharp.
"Did you know about the assassinations?"
Damian's smile faltered for a heartbeat. Not enough for anyone else to notice. But Aria wasn't just anyone.
He held her gaze. "No."
Lying wasn't easy. Not to soone who used to be his enemy. Not to soone who'd once tried to slit his throat in a burning council hall because she thought he was a threat to the realm.
She didn't react. Didn't call him out. She just said, "Hm."
That was more dangerous than yelling.
"There's been... evidence," she continued slowly. "Pointing to Ralvek. At least, not directly. This wasn't his usual execution style. It's more complicated."
Damian frowned. "Evidence from where?"
"You tell ."
"I don't know what you're talking about," he said, feigning confusion like a damn professional.
Her eyes narrowed. "Don't play dumb."
"I'm not playing. I'm naturally charming and stupid."
She wasn't amused. "A trail of forged communications. Seals. Planted whispers about betrayal within the high council's core. Whoever did this wanted to fracture the council from the inside. And they're succeeding."
He leaned forward slightly, playing into the performance. "Wait. So you think soone other than Ralvek's people is staging this?"
"I know soone is." She paused. "And I think they're getting help. From soone who knows how to cover their tracks."
"Then maybe you should look into whoever trained Ralvek's informants. You think he doesn't have backups? Failsafes?"
She ignored that. "The illusion trails were too clean. Mana fingerprints were wiped too well. The false leads weren't sloppily done—they were ant to be found."
"Okay," Damian said slowly.
"Soone left them behind on purpose. To cause chaos," she said simply. "To make sure no one trusts anyone."
"Mission accomplished, I guess."
"Are you seriously pretending you're not involved in any of this?"
Damian gave her a flat look. "Aria, if I were involved in this, do you think I'd still be sitting here eating cold vegetables while everyone else is panicking?"
"Yes."
Fair.
He rubbed his temples. "Look. I've been keeping my head down."
"That's funny," she said dryly. "I could've sworn I saw you fighting in front of the entire city during the Rank S exam. And then again, when the top five senators and seven Sanctum councils disappeared without a trace. Funny way to keep your head down."
"Okay, maybe slightly above the radar."
She leaned forward now, her voice lower. "I'm not here on Ralvek's behalf. I'm not even here on the Council's authority."
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