Morgen reveled in the shift. Not long ago, whispers of his name used to send shivers down spines. Now, those whispers carried a different kind of weight – a weight of power, of respect, laced with a hint of fear. News of Elara's conciliatory gesture, the chest overflowing with gold, had become the turning point. Green City thrummed with a new reality – Morgen, the leader of Dark Covenant, was no longer a fringe force, but a player on the grand chessboard.

He received a steady stream of visitors in his cavernous throne room. Merchants, previously aloof, now bowed low, offering their wares at bargain prices. Guild leaders, once dismissive, sought his approval on trade deals, their voices laced with a forced honeyed tone. The air crackled with a tension Morgen relished. It was the tension of power, of a new order being established.

One such visitor was Lord Ashlerton, a man whose nose held the unmistakable air of aristocracy. Morgen watched him approach with a predatory amusement. Ashlerton, known for his disdain for anything smelling faintly of darkness, now wore a tight smile that stretched across his face like a borrowed mask.

"Lord Ashlerton," Morgen greeted, his voice dripping with a mock courtesy. "To what delightful surprise do I owe this visit?"

Ashlerton cleared his throat, his eyes flitting around the cavern before settling back on Morgen. "Morgen," he began, his voice a strained purr. "I come bearing… goodwill."

Morgen raised an eyebrow, a flicker of sardonic humor dancing in his eyes. "Goodwill, eh? How very kind of you, Lord Ashlerton. Not something I'd typically associate with your esteemed family."

Ashlerton's smile twitched. "The winds of change blow strong, Morgen. We, at House Ashlerton, recognize… the new power dynamic in Green City." He practically spat the last word, his aristocratic pride battling with his current predicament.

Morgen leaned back in his throne, watching Ashlerton squirm. "Indeed," he said, drawing out the word. "And what 'goodwill' does House Ashlerton offer Dark Covenant?"

Ashlerton cleared his throat again, his gaze falling on the chest of gold beside the throne. A heavy sigh escaped his lips. "We… we believe in forging alliances, Morgen. Alliances that benefit both parties." He gestured vaguely towards the gold. "Consider that a token of our… newfound respect."

Morgen chuckled, the sound echoing through the chamber. "Respect, or fear, Lord Ashlerton? Be honest, it makes the offer more… sincere."

Ashlerton's face reddened, but he held Morgen's gaze. "Perhaps… a healthy mix of both, Morgen. We see a force with undeniable power, and House Ashlerton would rather be… friends, than enemies."

Morgen studied him for a long moment, then nodded slowly. "Very well, Lord Ashlerton. Your 'goodwill' is… noted. Dark Covenant welcomes the prospect of… cooperation."

Ashlerton let out a relieved breath, his smile a little more genuine this time. "Excellent, Morgen. Excellent. House Ashlerton is always open to mutually beneficial partnerships."

Morgen watched him leave, a smirk playing on his lips. The game was afoot. Arrogance might have kept Ashlerton away before, but now, fear was a powerful motivator. He knew Ashlerton wasn't alone. More would come, drawn by the promise of power, seeking to appease or align themselves with the new force in Green City.

He glanced at Betty, who stood beside his throne, her eyes holding a similar glint of satisfaction. "Looks like we're not just the storm anymore," she said, her voice laced with amusement. "We're the eye of the storm, where everyone seeks shelter.”

A hesitant rap on the obsidian door shattered the air of triumph in Morgen's cavernous throne room. Surprise flickered across his face. In Green City, Joe, the enigmatic owner of the city itself, wasn't known for personal visits. He ruled with an iron fist through an intricate web of informants and enforcers.

Morgen exchanged a bewildered glance with Betty before gesturing for the attendant to usher Joe in. The man who entered wasn't the imposing figure Morgen had expected. Joe was deceptively ordinary – short, with a receding hairline and a perpetually worried frown etched on his face. He fidgeted with a worn hat in his hands, his eyes darting nervously around the cavern.

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"Morgen, leader of Dark Covenant," Joe stammered, his voice barely a squeak. "I apologize for the intrusion."

Morgen leaned forward on his throne, amusement tugging at his lips. This was unexpected, a fly buzzing around a wolf. "Joe," he said, his tone measured. "This is indeed a surprise. To what do I owe the pleasure?"

Joe took a deep breath, his anxiety palpable. "It's… well, it's a matter of some urgency. I require your assistance." His voice dropped even lower. "Help in finding… certain artifacts."

Intrigue pricked at Morgen. Joe coming to him for help? This was a power play in itself. "Artifacts?" Morgen echoed, feigning ignorance. "And what kind of assistance are you expecting from… Dark Covenant?"

"There are twelve scrolls," Joe blurted out, his voice gaining a touch of desperation. "Creation scrolls, ancient artifacts of immense power. One has gone missing, stolen recently by Viscount Bernard, the former leader of your… organization."

A cold glint entered Morgen's eyes. Viscount Bernard, his traitorous predecessor, was a thorn in his side. He'd vanished after a power struggle, taking a significant portion of the Covenant's resources with him.

"Bernard, you say?" Morgen's voice hardened. "Finding him would certainly be… beneficial to Dark Covenant."

Joe seemed to relax a fraction. "Precisely. His betrayal caused significant disruption. If you can locate Bernard and retrieve the scroll, it would be… a service greatly appreciated."

Morgen tapped his fingers on the armrest of his throne, considering. This was an unexpected twist. He yearned to find Bernard and reclaim what was rightfully his, but cooperating with Joe felt like a gamble. What was the true cost of this "assistance?"

"Let me assure you, Morgen," Joe continued, sensing his hesitation. "There will be… compensation. And let us not forget, Bernard is a threat to us both."

He was right. Bernard, with his knowledge of the Covenant's inner workings, could be a formidable opponent. A grudging respect for Joe's strategy bloomed within Morgen. The man may be unassuming, but he wasn't stupid.

"Very well, Joe," Morgen said finally, a slow smile spreading across his face. "Dark Covenant accepts your proposition. We will find Viscount Bernard and retrieve the artifact."

Joe's face broke into a relieved smile, albeit a fleeting one. He knew this was a dance with a dark force, but for now, their goals aligned. "Excellent," he said, his voice regaining its nervous pitch. "I shall await your news with… anticipation."

As Joe shuffled out of the cavern, Morgen leaned back in his throne, a predator observing his prey. This quest for the scrolls had just become a fascinating game. He'd find Bernard, retrieve the artifact, and eliminate a threat.

Silence settled over the cavern like a thick fog after Joe's departure. The fleeting amusement in Morgen's eyes had been replaced by a steely glint. Joe's proposition lingered in the air, heavy with unspoken implications.

"A clever move," Morgen muttered, his voice a low growl. He admired Joe's audacity, seeking help from a notorious dark force like Dark Covenant. But this "assistance" came with a price. Morgen wouldn't be Joe's pawn.

The biggest worry gnawed at him – Viscount Bernard. His former mentor, turned rival, was a cunning serpent who knew the city's underbelly better than Morgen himself. Finding him would be a challenge, especially since rumors hinted at Bernard aligning with another dark force.

Betty, ever perceptive, picked up on Morgen's shifting mood. "Worried, boss?" she asked, her voice a soft purr.

"There's more to this than scrolls, Betty," Morgen admitted, his gaze flickering towards the flickering flames. "Joe may be desperate, but he's not naive. He wouldn't risk approaching us unless he was truly cornered."

The weight of Morgen's words hung heavy in the air. He knew all too well the brutal realities of this continent – power was the only currency that mattered. Even a temporary alliance with Joe could dissolve in a heartbeat if their interests diverged.

"Finding Bernard will be a test," Morgen continued, a grim determination settling over him. "He's cunning, has allies, and won't be caught easily. A direct confrontation will cost us dearly."

Betty leaned closer, her eyes gleaming with a predatory glint. "Then we use Joe's help," she said, her voice a silken whisper. "He wants the scrolls, and Bernard is a threat to his dominion. We make him think we're the attack dogs, but keep him leashed."

A slow smile spread across Morgen's face. Betty, as always, saw the heart of the matter. They wouldn't simply capture Bernard - they'd use Joe's resources to do their dirty work. Joe might think he was manipulating them, but Morgen planned to turn the tables.

"Excellent notion, Betty," Morgen said, his voice dripping with a dark relish. "We'll use Joe's fear of Bernard to fuel our own agenda. He wants a viper removed, we'll present him with the fangs, but keep the venom for ourselves."

A plan began to form in Morgen's mind, a web of deceit and manipulation. He would find Bernard, retrieve the scroll, and eliminate a rival, but all at Joe's expense. Power was a game, and Morgen, the leader of Dark Covenant, was a master player. He wouldn't just win, he'd crush his opponents and leave them scrambling in the dust.