The Kingmaker System
Chapter 269 - 268. Vile Intentions (3)

Chapter 269: 268. Vile Intentions (3)

The urge to storm into the Pope’s quarters and rip his deceitful head from his shoulders clawed at me. My vision burned, narrowing to focus solely on the image of his smug, conniving face and the twisted satisfaction he must have felt while orchestrating this.

"Did that dark mage come to you last night?" I asked, my voice low and edged with barely-contained wrath.

The boy sniffled, his small frame trembling, but he didn’t answer. His silence was answer enough.

I exhaled heavily, my breath misting in the unnaturally cold air. The rage swirling within me mixed with an unfamiliar sensation—a tightness in my chest, sharp and unrelenting. It was as though something caged deep within me was rattling against its prison, demanding release.

I released a sigh, forcing my clenched fists to relax before I hurt myself or terrified the boy further. But the weight in my chest didn’t lessen, and I realized with a bitter pang that it wasn’t just fury. It was a fierce, protective ache—an emotion so overwhelming it threatened to undo me.

This child, this innocent soul who had endured far too much already, was now being forced to endure even more. And for what? Because of the whims of corrupt men and their unholy ambitions?

No.

I would not allow it.

A storm of cold rage surged through my veins, threatening to drown me in its overwhelming tide. The very air around me seemed to chill, the oppressive fury within twisting the atmosphere into an unbearable stillness. My mind screamed to tear down the walls of this accursed Temple, to destroy every trace of the corruption that had ensnared this innocent child.

But amidst the chaos raging within me, I felt a soft warmth against my hand. It was a faint, hesitant touch, like a flicker of light in the darkest abyss. My burning eyes shifted downward, and I met his gaze.

The child’s fingers trembled as they rested on mine, his eyes wide with a mixture of fear and concern. They were like mirrors, reflecting the monstrous visage staring back at him—a visage I barely recognized as my own.

My eyes, usually calm like the tranquil surface of a lake, now blazed with the intensity of blue fire. The flames danced with a fierce, unrelenting wrath, threatening to consume everything in their path. My expression twisted, contorted into something feral—a grimace born from the depths of fury and despair.

For a moment, silence stretched between us. I saw the way his tiny shoulders quivered, yet he stood firm, his small hand unwavering against mine. Despite his terror, he didn’t pull away. Instead, his touch seemed to anchor me, a fragile tether pulling me back from the brink of destruction.

I took a slow, shuddering breath, the icy grip of rage loosening ever so slightly.

"Child..." My voice came out hoarse, barely a whisper, strained with the effort of keeping my emotions in check.

His lips parted as if to say something, but no words came out. Instead, he simply shook his head, his watery eyes never leaving mine. That silent plea—so raw, so pure—pierced through the storm raging within me.

I forced myself to close my eyes, shutting out the sight of his frightened face and my own monstrous reflection in his gaze. Slowly, deliberately, I exhaled, willing the fire to simmer down, willing my mind to clear. The searing intensity in my veins began to ebb, replaced by a sharp, focused clarity.

When I opened my eyes again, the fire still burned, but it was no longer wild. It was a controlled inferno, sharp and calculated.

"I’m sorry," I murmured, my voice steadier now, though a lingering edge of cold fury remained. My hand gently turned over to clasp his, his small fingers enveloped in my steadying warmth. "You didn’t deserve to see that."

The child blinked at me, and a single tear slipped down his cheek. His lips quivered as he clutched my hand tightly, his silent trust more powerful than any words he could have spoken.

I turned my gaze away, my jaw tightening. They had dared to touch him, to mark him as if he were a tool for their schemes. And they would pay for it.

"They’ll regret this," I whispered, my words laced with quiet resolve. My fingers curled protectively around his small hand. "I promise you, child. I’ll make them regret everything."

Though I spoke softly, the quiet intensity in my tone carried a promise—a vow that would not be broken. For now, I would reign in my fury, sharpen it like a blade, and strike when the time was right.

For him.

For the justice he deserved.

And for the destruction of those who dared to harm the innocent under the guise of holiness.

The boy left after a while, his small figure retreating into the shadows of the hallway. My thoughts churned as I adjusted the plan for tomorrow. I would save the child, no matter the cost. But saving him wasn’t enough. Someone had to pay for this—someone who had grown far too comfortable wielding power unchecked.

"Uncle?" I called through the mana stone, my voice steady but sharp.

The stone glimmered faintly before his voice came through, calm yet tinged with curiosity. "I’m here."

"I need your help, Uncle."

There was a pause before his tone shifted, more serious. "What’s wrong, Reina? Why do you sound like that?"

"Sound like what?"

"Like you’re about to murder someone."

I clenched my jaw. He wasn’t wrong, but telling him I was contemplating the assassination of a Pope would make him flip.

"I am," I admitted flatly, "but that’s not why I contacted you. There’s an emergency."

"What kind of emergency?" he asked, his voice sharpening.

"Remember the curse of secrecy I mentioned?"

"I do."

"Well, I found some books on curses and dark spells a few days ago—"

"What?!" Silas interrupted, his voice rising in disbelief.

"Yes," I continued, undeterred. "I read through them and learned a few things. The curse on the child? It’s a soul-binding one."

Silas fell silent, the weight of my words settling between us. "That... That’s serious, Reina. If you make even the slightest mistake, the child could die."

"I know," I said softly, exhaling a frustrated sigh. "But it’s worse now."

"How?"

I hesitated, my grip tightening on the mana stone. "The curse is spreading. The child’s voice has been cut off—he can only say one specific phrase, nothing else."

"What?!" Silas’s outburst crackled through the connection.

"I don’t know how, but something happened last night. The incantation on his tongue has grown—likely spreading to his throat."

"This is bad," he muttered, more to himself than to me.

"There’s one more thing," I added, bracing myself.

I could imagine his expression shifting, a mixture of worry and exasperation. "What is it?"

"I think... there’s a dark presence involved."

"It’s obvious, Reina. That kind of curse can’t be cast by a low-level mage. A high-level dark mage is clearly behind this."

"No, Uncle. I’m not talking about a mage."

"Then what?"

I hesitated, recalling the ominous sight. "It’s... something like dark matter. I saw it last night—a black, shifting mass. A dark entity."

Silas’s sharp intake of breath was audible. "Y-You saw it?!"

"Yes. It came to threaten me."

"What did it do? Are you all right?!" His concern spilled through the connection, his voice frantic.

"I’m fine, Uncle. It didn’t harm me—it left as quickly as it came. But I’m certain it’s here for me."

"Just what have you gotten yourself into, Reina?!" Silas’s exasperation was palpable, followed by a deep sigh.

I couldn’t help but let out a soft hum, a wry smile tugging at my lips. "I didn’t exactly sign up for this, Uncle. So, I guess you could say I’m a victim here too."

"Then come back. Now," he urged, his tone firm.

"I can’t."

"Reina, you’re running out of time! You can’t waste it all there!"

"I’m not wasting time. The plan starts tomorrow. I’ll have everything wrapped up within two weeks. I’ll be back before the end of the month."

"Two weeks?" Silas’s voice cracked with disbelief. "Reina, you’re talking about taking down a country’s corrupt religious leaders and reforming their system. That doesn’t happen in two weeks!"

"That’s my problem to solve, Uncle," I replied with a chuckle, though the weight of the task was no laughing matter.

"And the war?" he pressed.

"What about it?"

"Don’t you have to end it as well?"

"Not yet," I said curtly.

"Then... you’re only staying there to deal with the corrupt religious leaders?"

"Hm." I smiled faintly. "There’s more to it, but I’ll explain when I return."

Silas sighed heavily, and I could almost hear him shaking his head. "Fine. Just... please, Reina. Be careful. You’ve got a family waiting for you here."

"I know, Uncle. I haven’t forgotten," I said softly, my voice laced with quiet determination.

"Good night, Reina."

"Good night." The mana stone dimmed, leaving the room in silence. I exhaled, the weight of my mission settling back onto my shoulders.

Two weeks. That was all the time I had to dismantle an empire of lies and save the innocent lives crushed beneath it.

Failure was not an option.