Chapter 56

“I’ve finished the preparations Your Majesty,” Edrian’s tone grated on the Emperor’s ears. When he heard it, he wanted nothing more than to shove his hand down the conniving man’s throat and tear out his vocal cords. He would love nothing more than to watch the pathetic fool be torn to pieces, but Edrian Wolls was an invaluable asset.

The Minister of Defense’s blind ambition was a gift. He didn’t care who he destroyed in his quest for power, but had the rhetoric to make one believe he had their best interests in mind. That was a useful tool when you wanted to tear a nation apart without the populace ever knowing what was going on.

Evrain couldn’t stand his Minister of Defense, but he could use him. He could wield him like a weapon. That had been the only thing that kept him from giving the man over to his Inquisitors, damning him to a life of mental agony as his hidden weapons practiced their horrible magic, replaying monstrous torture after monstrous torture until the devious Minister’s mind broke from the horrors that would consume his every waking thought.

“Your plan is perfect. This will undermine the man, without outright condemning him. It’ll destroy his world without it looking like we were aiming at him,” Edrian Wolls said in a saccharine tone.

It grated Evrain and it took everything in him not to snarl at the sickly sweet mewing coming from the hawkish man.

“He’s a useful tool. Don’t slaughter him where he stands. We can use him. He will fuel the fires that’ll tear this country apart. He’s the vessel we need to feed our transformation.” Evrain forced down his murderous thoughts. The Minister of Defense disgusted him. He was petty in all the worst ways, and his very existence grated on Evrain…But he was useful.

He might even be essential. It was due to people like Edrian Wolls that Evrain had lived so long. He hated them, but their blind ambition fueled the destruction of their countries, and therefore, his own life.

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And his idea to bring in the military to deal with the outbreaks of violence in Fiell had been brilliant. Evrain was surprised that he himself hadn’t thought of it first. It was the perfect way to look as if he were trying to keep the peace, while, in reality, ushering in more destruction. As much as it galled him, Evrain would keep his Minister of Defense around until he became no longer useful.

“What if…” Edrian Wolls said in an almost pleading tone. He was going to suggest something else. Evrain would humor him. “What if we take the blame for the fire that we’ve been placing on the remnants of the Rebellion and tie it to Aris Ravenscroft somehow?”

The Minister of Defense had barely bothered to hide his avarice and hatred for the General from his voice, but it was a good idea. It was more than a good idea. It might just be a genius one.

Evrain had been wondering how to deal with Aris, and ever since their meeting two days ago where General Ravenscroft had seen his seizure and had subsequently revealed himself as a Memory Mage by reading Evrain’s own past, he had been wondering what to do with the man. He’d almost sent a squad of Inquisitors and Forgotten to deal with the General on multiple occasions, but he held back. He could use Aris in a positive way. In a way that tore the city further apart, but kept himself above suspicion. He just hadn’t known how.

That was, until now.

Edrian Wolls’ plan was brilliant. He would lay the blame for the fires on Aris. Not outrightly, no his moral uprightness was unquestionable. Nobody would believe that he was behind the attacks. But he could use Aris’ virtue as a weapon against him. He could take his uprightness and warp it. He would say that Aris, in an attempt to root out the source of the rebellion, had let some of the would be assassins live. He hadd let them live so he could find the root, the source of the evil, that had very nearly taken Evrains’ own life.

He had let some of them live, but he hadn’t been careful enough. He’d underestimated their abilities, and they had escaped and started the fires as retaliation.

People would stand for their hero if he were accused of wrongdoing. They would surround him and guard him, shielding their vision of him from the world, but if it were his virtue that caused him to fall, they would surely turn on him. They would rip him apart like a pack of angry dogs. The mob protected the attacked, the seemingly disadvantaged, but destroyed those that fell short of their vision of perfection they held them to.

Aris’ virtue would be his downfall, and it was perfect.