Alexander Distantias and Rud of the Dark Father sat across from each other at a worn wooden table.

Between them, a bottle of fine liquor rested.

Each leader was flanked by two loyal underlings, who stood silently like statues,

Alexander leaned back in his chair,

His sharp eyes studied Rud, who, despite his relaxed demeanor, exuded an air of power.

Alexander broke the silence first.

“I’ll admit, Rud, I didn’t expect you to suggest neutral ground. I assumed I’d be visiting your chambers for this little chat.”

Rud smirked, his dark eyes glinting as he raised his glass to his lips.

“I like to keep things... balanced. My chambers are my sanctum, and I don’t invite potential threats into my sanctum.”

Alexander chuckled.

“Fair enough. Though calling me a ‘potential threat’ might be overestimating my capabilities. You’re the one holding all the cards here.”

Rud’s smirk widened.

“Don’t sell yourself short, Distantias. A man who can orchestrate an assassination with magic while staying under the radar of half the ship’s occupants isn’t exactly weak.”

Alexander’s expression didn’t change, but there was a flicker of satisfaction in his eyes.

“I didn’t realize my reputation extended that far. Still, I’m guessing you didn’t call me here just to compliment me.”

Rud leaned back, spreading his arms in a gesture of mock innocence.

“What if I did? What if I just wanted to meet the man who’s stirred up such a delightful little storm in the lower levels?”

Alexander’s lips twitched.

“Then I’d have to assume you’re either very bored or very intrigued. And men like you don’t waste time on boredom.”

Rud’s laughter was low.

“Smart. I like that. Yes, I’m intrigued. But I’m also cautious.”

Alexander set his glass down,

“Ambition, yes. But not recklessness. I know where my power ends and yours begins. I have no intention of challenging the Dark Father.”

Rud tilted his head, studying Alexander like a predator sizing up its prey.

“Words are easy. Actions, though… Your assassination proved you’re willing to act boldly when it suits you.”

There was a pause as both men locked eyes, the weight of unspoken threats hanging in the air.

Finally, Alexander broke the silence.

“You called me here for a reason, Rud. What do you want?”

Rud leaned forward again,

“I want to know your endgame. You’ve shown you’re capable, but your organization is small and limited. So tell me, Alexander, what’s your play? Expand? Survive? Or are you just a pawn in someone else’s game?”

You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

Alexander’s jaw tightened slightly, but he maintained his composure.

“The Distantias doesn’t play anyone else’s game. We’re here to survive, yes, but also to carve out our place. You might see us as small, but even small players can shift the board if they move strategically.”

Rud raised an eyebrow.

“Interesting. And do you think your little gambit with the assassination was strategic enough to shift the board?”

“It wasn’t a gambit,” Alexander said firmly. “It was a message. One that clearly got your attention.”

Rud laughed again.

“Fair enough. You’ve got guts, I’ll give you that. But guts only get you so far. Power, real power, is what matters. And that’s where we differ, Distantias. You’re trying to climb the ladder. I’m already at the top.”

Alexander smirked.

“Perhaps. But even the top of the ladder can be unstable if the base isn’t secure.”

Rud’s smile faded slightly.

“Careful, Distantias…"

There was another heavy pause before Alexander spoke again.

“Then let’s make it simple. You didn’t call me here to threaten me. You called me because you see value in the Distantias. Otherwise, we wouldn’t be having this conversation.”

Rud inclined his head slightly,

“True. But value is subjective. Prove your worth, and maybe there’s a place for you under the Dark Father’s umbrella.”

Alexander’s eyes narrowed.

“And what does that place look like? Subjugation? Servitude? Or actual partnership?”

Rud’s smirk returned.

“That depends on you, Distantias."

Alexander didn’t flinch.

“I’ll consider your offer. But I don’t make decisions lightly. If I’m going to align with you, I need to know it’s worth it.”

Rud leaned back once more,

"Take your time. But don’t take too long. Opportunities like this don’t come often.”

Alexander stood, his underlings moving to follow him.

“I’ll be in touch.”

As he left the room, Rud watched him go, a faint smile playing on his lips. To his underlings, he murmured,

“Ambitious, clever, and bold. Let’s see if he’s smart enough to survive.”

Outside, Alexander’s expression darkened as he walked down the hallway. To his own men, he muttered,

“We need to be ready. That wasn’t an invitation—it was a warning.”

--

Practice Room -

In an instant, the ambient sounds of machinery and muffled conversations gave way to chaos as the magical pulse rippled outward, shaking walls and rattling fixtures.

On Level Ten, Room 1—Oprein of the Dark Sickle froze mid-sentence.

His sharp green eyes widened, and the teacup he was holding trembled slightly in his grasp.

Across from him, Lady Lide-El Tis, the family’s public face, kept her composure but gripped the edge of her chair tightly.

“What was that?” Oprein asked.

Lady Lide-El Tis tilted her head,

“Magic of that magnitude… It’s not random.”

Oprein stood abruptly,

“It came from the practice room. But who could—”

Before he could finish, a knock came at the door.

One of their operatives entered, his face pale.

“Lady Lide-El, Lord Oprein. The explosion originated from the practice room on Level Three. The magical signature is… overwhelming.”

Lady Lide-El raised an eyebrow.

“Have you identified the caster?”

The operative shook his head.

“No, my lady. The signature is unfamiliar. It doesn’t match any known profiles.”

Oprein cursed under his breath.

“This complicates things.”

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On Room Eight, Sylas leaned back in his chair, a faint smile playing on his lips as the vibrations subsided. Gran stood nearby, his expression dark.

“That was no ordinary spell,” Gran muttered.

“Whoever cast it… they wanted to send a message.”

Sylas tapped the armrest thoughtfully.

“Or to make a point. Either way, it seems someone is testing their limits—or ours.”

Gran frowned.

“Should we investigate?”

Sylas shook his head.

“Not yet. Let the others make their moves first. It’ll be more telling to see who scrambles and who stays calm.”

Gran grunted in agreement, but his gaze remained fixed on Sylas.

“And if they come looking for answers?”

Sylas’s smile widened, a glint of amusement in his eyes.

“Then we’ll give them the answers they want. Or the ones they fear.”

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