The Kingmaker System
Chapter 264 - 263. Behind The Hidden Doors (1)

Chapter 264: 263. Behind The Hidden Doors (1)

I placed the cuffs back on the child’s ankles, my hands reluctant, yet firm. His face twisted into an unhappy frown, but neither of us had a choice—not yet.

"You can stay in your human form after I’ve given you my essence and blood, child," I explained, my voice steady. "But this isn’t something I can decide for you. You need to choose for yourself. Do you understand what I’m saying?"

His golden eyes flickered with hesitation before he gave a small nod, his body tense but listening.

"So," I asked, crouching slightly to meet his gaze, "do you want to go through with it now?"

He shook his head slowly, the motion deliberate and burdened with the weight of his fear.

I nodded, standing upright. "All right. When you’re ready, let me know. I won’t rush you."

He turned and left the room, his footsteps soft against the cold stone floor. I watched him go, a heavy sigh escaping me as the door clicked shut.

The silence that followed left me alone with my thoughts—thoughts that circled like vultures around the same question.

The recipe.

I leaned against the edge of the desk, my mind racing. Who had created it? The twisted ingenuity behind the potion gnawed at me, a venomous reminder of the horrors it had already caused. And yet, the true purpose of the formula remained a mystery.

A flicker of determination sparked within me. If the Pope thought he could manipulate lives unchecked, he was about to learn otherwise.

I glanced at the chessboard on the far side of the room, the pieces set in a pattern that mirrored the state of the kingdom. The pawns, the knights, the king and queen—they all held their positions. But like any game, one bold move could turn the tide.

"Time to make my move," I muttered to myself.

There was no room for hesitation. I needed answers, and I knew exactly where to start. The guarded passageway behind the High Priest’s office held secrets. And tonight, I intended to uncover them.

I decided to bite the bullet and do what I had wanted to for a while—break down the damn door hidden in the passageway behind the High Priest’s office, the one so heavily guarded it practically screamed suspicion.

Night had blanketed the Temple in stillness. With most of its inhabitants retired to their chambers, I slipped out of my room, fully cloaked in Ocean’s male form and veiled by an invisibility spell.

The High Priest’s office was eerily quiet, its polished surfaces gleaming faintly in the moonlight filtering through the tall windows. I entered with practiced silence, my presence barely a whisper in the air. The black book on the bookshelf stood exactly where I remembered. With a deliberate tug, I activated the mechanism. A faint rumble sounded as the hidden passage revealed itself, its shadowy depths beckoning.

I treaded carefully through the narrow tunnel, the faint scent of damp stone lingering in the air. My eyes adjusted to the dim light as I approached the door—an imposing barrier of dark alloy infused with energies that hummed discordantly in the confined space.

It was still as formidable as I remembered, but tonight, it wouldn’t stand in my way.

The charged air tingled against my skin as I stepped closer, my invisibility spell dissolving into nothingness under the door’s oppressive energy. I stood before it, assessing its thick, unyielding frame.

"No more games," I muttered under my breath, clenching my fist.

Drawing back, I struck. The resounding thunk echoed through the tunnel as a gaping hole splintered the center of the door. A sharp jolt coursed through me, disrupting my disguise. Ocean’s form flickered, briefly revealing my true self.

"Stay together," I murmured to my unstable form, narrowing my eyes at the stubborn door.

A second blow shattered the door’s hinges, and it groaned under its own weight, tilting ominously backward. Before it could crash to the ground and announce my intrusion to the world, I grabbed its edge, lowering it with care. The silence held.

I stepped into the room beyond, instantly assaulted by the heavy aura of antimana alloy saturating the air. My fists clenched as the implications sank in.

It was a lab.

Beakers, burners, and an assortment of alchemical tools cluttered the counters, their sharp glass edges catching the dim glow of magical lanterns. The sterile smell of chemicals mingled with something more sinister, something faintly metallic. On one wall stood a bookshelf, filled with thick tomes that practically pulsed with malevolent energy. Grimoires, shackled by antimana chains, tethered to the space like prisoners. Their restrictions allowed reading but forbade removal.

As my eyes swept the room, they landed on a counter that stopped me cold.

A box of vials.

Each vial filled with crimson liquid.

The child’s blood.

My vision tunneled, rage coiling in my chest like a viper.

"They bottled him like a damn experiment," I growled, my voice barely above a whisper.

I approached the box, staring at the neatly arranged vials, each a testament to the unspeakable acts committed here. My gaze darted around, searching for a recipe or notes—anything to explain this abomination. But nothing was forthcoming, just the sterile precision of a lab dedicated to its dark craft.

A noise cut through my thoughts—footsteps, steady and approaching from the door on the other end of the room.

"Damn it," I hissed, my mind racing.

There wasn’t time to linger, but I couldn’t leave this place as it was. The evidence, the resources—it all needed to be destroyed.

I moved to the bookshelves, ripping out every tome that mentioned curses and dark rituals, their ancient bindings groaning under my grip. With a flick of my fingers, I unleashed my magic. Beakers shattered, counters overturned, and a cacophony of destruction filled the space. The energy surged through me, my telekinesis making quick work of the pristine lab until it was reduced to chaos.

The sound of the lock being fumbled with spurred me into action. I dashed for the far door, slipping through just as the barrier behind me groaned open. My invisibility spell flickered back into place as I turned, my breath steady despite the adrenaline coursing through my veins.

The Pope stepped into the room, his face a mask of fury.

Gone was his benevolent facade. His expression twisted into something darker, something raw and unrestrained.

"What in the sacred heavens happened here?!" His voice was sharp, his eyes darting over the wreckage.

I smirked from my hidden position.

From the opposite direction came hurried footsteps. The High Priest, Benedict, rushed into view, his robes fluttering in his wake. He entered the room just as the Pope’s tirade reached its peak.

"You incompetent fool!" the Pope snapped, rounding on Benedict. "This is your responsibility! How could this happen under your watch?"

"I-I don’t know!" Benedict stammered, his face pale. "The protections—"

"Clearly worthless!" the Pope bellowed, his anger rising.

I watched from the shadows, their frantic exchange giving me the time I needed to slip away.

I retreated through the High Priest’s office, my steps light and deliberate, the sound of their argument fading behind me. The Temple was as silent as before, but now the calm felt heavy, brimming with the chaos I had left behind.

I teleported straight to Lyall’s quarters, the faint shimmer of magic dissipating as I appeared in his dimly lit room. As expected, he jumped, startled by my sudden arrival. His eyes widened for a moment before recognition settled in, and he released a breath of relief.

"Master," he greeted, his voice gravelly with exhaustion.

I glanced at him, noting the dark circles under his eyes and the slight slump in his posture. He looked like he hadn’t slept in days.

"Relax, Lyall," I said with a small smile, placing the four books onto his desk with a soft thud. I patted his shoulder lightly, trying to ease some of his tension. "Lie down. I’m just here to drop these off. Keep them safe for now."

Lyall blinked at the books, then at me, and nodded dutifully. "Yes, Master," he replied, though his voice betrayed a stifled yawn.

"You should really get some sleep," I said, raising an eyebrow as I crossed my arms.

"I will," he promised, though we both knew he wouldn’t—at least, not until whatever task he’d been working on was complete.

I smiled softly. "You’re too dedicated for your own good. You truly are the best right-hand man anyone could ask for."

He gave a faint smile of his own, clearly too tired to muster much more.

Satisfied, I teleported back to the Temple, bracing myself for some level of chaos. The lab was utterly destroyed, and the books I’d taken were irreplaceable. Surely, by now, someone would have discovered the scene and raised an alarm.

But as the night wore on and gave way to the light of day, the Temple remained eerily silent. Not a single whisper of commotion reached my ears.

The child returned to my quarters not long after, his small frame curled up on the floor as he fiddled with the chess pieces. His cheerful demeanor was unshaken, his laughter untainted by any hint of unease.

It was as if nothing had happened.

I watched him quietly, my thoughts spiraling. Was the Pope lying low, waiting for the right moment to act? Or had the mess I’d left behind in the lab gone unnoticed? Either way, the calm felt like the eye of a storm, and I couldn’t shake the feeling that something bigger was brewing beneath the surface.