Sylas opened his eyes and leaned forward slightly,

“And Ares? Did he resist?”

“No,” Machivel replied.

“He complied without incident. He’s being held under magical restraints, but from what I’ve heard, he hasn’t said much. Gareth is keeping a close eye on him.”

Sylas nodded slowly, his expression unreadable.

He was about to respond when the door opened, and Suntuzel stepped into the room.

“I overheard,” Suntuzel said without preamble, his sharp voice cutting through the air.

He walked to the center of the room, his gaze shifting between Machivel and Sylas.

“If Gareth is involved, then it’s clear what this is about.”

Sylas tilted his head slightly.

“Enlighten me.”

Suntuzel crossed his arms, his expression thoughtful but tinged with irritation.

“Gareth and others are questioning why Ares, a prominent member of Sylind House, a Level Ten figure no less, would be spending his time in the lower levels. To them, it doesn’t add up. The only logical assumption they can make is that he’s stirring the pot—creating or manipulating the chaos.”

Machivel nodded in agreement.

“That’s precisely what Gareth likely suspects. With the recent battles escalating, especially between the Third Circle and Frost Elves, the lower levels are on edge. Gareth probably thinks Ares is using his influence to fuel the conflicts for some grander scheme.”

Suntuzel smirked slightly.

“He’s grasping at control in a situation that’s already spiraling. The problem is, by targeting Ares, he’s made a move against us—a move we can’t ignore.”

Machivel added,

“There’s more. Gareth’s decision will undoubtedly ripple through the factions. Those loyal to us or even neutral may see this as a provocation.”

Sylas leaned back, his fingers steepled in front of him.

“And yet Ares complied without resistance. That alone will disarm Gareth’s narrative to a degree.”

“Perhaps,” Suntuzel interjected.

“But Gareth doesn’t need solid evidence. He needs perception. If enough people believe Ares was meddling in the lower levels, it creates doubt about us, about Sylind House.”

Sylas remained silent for a moment,

“Gareth’s actions are bold, but they lack foresight. He’s maneuvering within a framework that no longer exists. The ship is no longer a place of rules and governance—it’s a battleground.”

“What do we do?” Machivel asked,

Sylas stood,

“For now, wait. Ares knew the risks of his assignments, and his compliance suggests he understands the importance of patience. I trust his judgment.”

“And Gareth?” Suntuzel pressed.

Sylas’s gaze hardened.

“Gareth has made his move, but it’s a shortsighted one. If he wants to play investigator, let him. The chaos will soon overtake him, and he’ll find himself drowning in it. Until then, we focus on our objectives. The battles on the lower levels are unfolding as planned. We stay the course.”

Machivel and Suntuzel nodded,

“One more thing,” Sylas added, his tone sharp.

“Keep our people informed, but discreetly. Let them know that Ares’s detention changes nothing. We move forward as if this is merely another piece in the game.”

“Yes, Sylas,” Machivel said, bowing slightly.

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

As the door closed behind them, Sylas sat back down.

Ares sat quietly in the dimly lit room.

He leaned back slightly against the wall, closing his eyes for a brief moment.

This was expected. Gareth—or rather, Alexander—was playing the role of investigator, a move Ares had anticipated long before stepping into the lower levels.

About two hours passed before the sound of heavy footsteps echoed down the corridor.

Ares opened his eyes, sitting upright.

The door creaked open, and Gareth entered first, his expression a carefully controlled mask of neutrality.

Revol followed closely behind, his presence imposing as always.

Five guardians trailed them, their movements disciplined and precise.

“Those guardians are dangerous, even if I was not bound, I can at the very most handle three of them at the same time.”

“Four of them would be end of me...”

Ares thought.

This was a important information for himself and Lord Sylas.

The room grew tense as Gareth stood silently, his arms crossed, leaning slightly against the wall near the door.

Revol, however, took the lead, stepping forward with a piercing gaze fixed on Ares.

“Ares,” Revol began, his tone calm but firm, “you’ve had your time to think. Now it’s time to answer some questions.”

Ares met his gaze evenly,

“I expected as much.”

Revol gestured to one of the guardians, who stepped back to close the door.

The room felt smaller, heavier.

“Let’s not waste time. What were you doing with the organizations on the lower levels? What’s your goal?”

Ares leaned forward slightly, his hands resting on his knees despite the restraints.

His voice was steady, almost conversational.

“You’ve heard the rumors about Rudmer Island, haven’t you? About what it represents? The Sylind Family has claimed it as the foundation of something far greater. My time on the lower levels was merely an extension of that vision.”

Revol raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed.

“That’s a vague answer for someone in your position. Be specific. What connections were you building, and for what purpose?”

Ares smirked faintly.

“Revol, you’ve always been a man of order, haven’t you? A believer in clear lines and structured power. But empires are not built on rigidity. They are built on adaptability, on connections. The organizations on the lower levels, though small now, represent potential. Influence. Alliances. I was there to foster relationships that could one day serve the Sylind Family’s interests.”

Revol folded his arms, his gaze narrowing. “So, you were recruiting them?”

Ares shook his head.

“Not recruiting. Planting seeds. These groups will grow, evolve. Some will fall. Others will rise. The ones that endure will remember who extended a hand when they were struggling. When the Sylind Empire fully takes shape, those alliances will be invaluable.”

Revol glanced at Gareth, who had remained silent thus far. Gareth’s eyes flicked toward Ares, unreadable, but he still did not speak.

“You’re taking a gamble,The lower levels are chaos incarnate right now. Half of those groups might not survive the week, let alone become valuable allies in the future.”

Ares shrugged lightly.

“Risk is inherent in growth. You know that as well as I do. Besides, my presence wasn’t just about fostering alliances—it was also about assessing the landscape. Understanding the dynamics of power on this ship is crucial if we’re to control it.”

Revol took a step closer, his voice dropping slightly.

“And what about the battles? The skirmishes that seem to erupt wherever you go? Are you going to tell me those are coincidental?”

Ares’s smirk grew into a small, knowing smile.

“You give me too much credit, Revol. The battles were inevitable. The Third Circle and Frost Elves would have clashed regardless of my presence. Their rivalry is deeply rooted, far beyond anything I could orchestrate.”

“But you were there,In the middle of it all. That’s more than coincidence.”

Ares met his gaze evenly, his voice calm.

“I was observing. Gathering information. The chaos is an opportunity, not a problem. Knowing how these factions operate, how they react under pressure—that’s valuable knowledge. And knowledge, as you know, is power.”

Revol stared at him for a long moment, his expression unreadable. Finally, he straightened and glanced at Gareth again.

“Alexander,” he said, addressing him directly, “what do you think?”

Gareth’s gaze shifted to Ares, and for the first time, he spoke. His voice was measured, deliberate. “I think Ares is playing a long game.

One that aligns with the Sylind Family’s ambitions, but one that also risks destabilizing the ship further. The question is whether his actions serve our goals or his own.”

Ares’s expression didn’t falter.

“My loyalty to Sylind House is unwavering. Every move I’ve made has been with the empire’s future in mind. You can question my methods, but not my intent.”

Gareth pushed off the wall, stepping closer. His voice was low, almost a growl.

“Intent means little if your actions bring more chaos than progress.”

Ares met his intensity head-on.

“Chaos is the crucible in which power is forged. If you fear it, you’ll never achieve greatness.”

Revol finally broke it with a sigh, gesturing for one of the guardians to step forward.

“We’ll continue this discussion later. For now, you’ll remain under observation.”

Ares nodded, leaning back against the wall.

“As you wish. But remember this—while you scrutinize my actions, others are making moves that could determine the ship’s future. Don’t waste too much time focusing on the wrong target.”

Revol said nothing, turning to leave. Gareth lingered for a moment, his gaze lingering on Ares before following Revol out.

The guardians stayed behind.

As the door closed, Ares allowed himself a small, satisfied smile.