Unholy Player

Chapter 465: Silverlight Zephan’s Quiet Anxiety

Henry stayed where he was and listened to the echo of footsteps rolling through the long corridor, each step bouncing off the walls and coming back to him heavier, darker, and more dangerous than the last.

It had been many years since he became the Defense Minister of Shelter City 9. In that time, he and his city had passed through more crises than he could neatly list in his mind.

There had been political pressure from other Shelter Cities, quiet power struggles that could turn into open conflict with a single wrong move. There had been terrorist organizations lurking beyond the walls, testing the city’s defenses whenever they sensed weakness. There had been first generation mutants slipping past patrols and launching sudden attacks inside the city itself.

Many kinds of threats. Many levels of danger. And up until today, Henry had always managed to find a way around them, over them, or straight through them. One way or another, he solved it.

But for the first time, standing in that corridor with those footsteps drawing closer, he felt completely powerless. His mind, which usually started to come up with answers and countermeasures on its own, found nothing.

As Defense Minister, his duty was to detect any threat before it even took shape, to quietly cut it off while it was still just a possibility. Yet now, regardless of which angle he considered, there was no way to stop what was approaching. Every scenario his thoughts produced ended with the same conclusion.

Cannot be prevented...

There was one exception, though—one name that stood apart from that hopelessness.

Adyr...

At this point, all Henry could hope for was that the newcomers were here as Adyr’s guests and that, in his presence, they would behave as simple visitors rather than as the forces of destruction they truly were.

You won again, Adyr.

Henry drew in a deep breath, feeling the weight of the years and decisions on his shoulders, then let himself drop to one knee beside Rhys. The cold floor pressed against his joints, a reminder of his position.

In his mind, he had been playing a chess game with Adyr, just like in the old days, but this time the board was the city and the pieces were people. The stake was not pride or simple victory, but it was about authority and influence. He had moved with the intention of weakening Adyr’s power.

In the end, he had still lost. He had been checkmated before he even realized the match was already over. Only now did he see how foolish his idea of a two-faction structure had been.

There would be no separate mortal faction and Practitioner faction. That illusion crumbled completely in his mind. In reality, there was only one thing that could sit above everything else and truly rule.

Absolute power.

Once he accepted that, his previous plan to undermine Adyr’s authority was completely reversed. Instead of wanting Adyr restrained, he now found himself hoping and silently praying that Adyr was strong enough to control the guests he had brought.

Because if Adyr could not handle them, then there was no one else left among all of humanity who could.

"We greet Young Master."

The words flowed out of Henry’s mouth clearly and without effort, as if his body knew its place better than his heart wanted to admit.

Adyr approached the kneeling men, followed by three Rank 4 Practitioners, and came to a stop in front of them.

His crimson eyes fell on Henry, and he watched him in silence for a brief, unreadable moment before speaking calmly.

"You can rise."

Henry and Rhys stood up at once, following the order without the slightest delay. Their smooth, instinctive obedience reflected the difference in status between them and the man they faced, as well as the respect, and fear, that came with it.

"Are they inside?" Adyr asked, his gaze locking directly onto Henry’s eyes.

There was no malice in his voice, no anger on his face. It was just a simple question, delivered as casually as if he had asked for the time. Yet that alone was enough to make Henry flinch inwardly. His body did not move, but he felt the jolt.

He steadied himself and answered, keeping his tone as level as possible. "Yes. They’re inside with Lady Vesha, having dinner."

Adyr’s lips curved slightly at that. "Good. Thank you for looking after them."

He turned away from Henry then, shifting his attention to Zephan. "Do you prefer having a meal first or taking a tour of the city?"

The question was simple, but its weight fell squarely on Silverlight Zephan’s shoulders. He fell silent for a moment, his eyes drifting past Adyr toward the doors at the end of the corridor, the ones leading into the room where Marielle and the others were seated.

He already knew why Adyr had rushed back to his territory. The explanation was straightforward: his mother and sister had come to visit. That part was clear.

What was not clear was the detail they had not yet been told.

They were only mortals.

I can’t feel any aura coming from inside. The thought surfaced as Zephan focused on the silent doors, and with it came a faint tension that pulled at his shoulders and spine.

He was not entirely sure what to think of the sister, but Adyr’s mother was another matter. In his mind, a person with a son like Adyr could not possibly be ordinary. She had to be someone whose power exceeded anything he had yet imagined.

Yet in that room, he felt nothing. There was no pressure, no presence, and no faint echo of a powerful aura. The emptiness behind those doors pushed harder the more he thought about it, and that made his assumptions feel even stronger instead of weaker.

The lack of aura did not calm him. It only made his imagination work harder.

Soon, a very practical question began to trouble him.

Should I accept Adyr’s invitation and sit at the same table as her, or should I politely avoid meeting someone like that at all?

On one hand, he wanted to meet Adyr’s family. He wanted to see with his own eyes what kind of people they were, how strong they might be, and whether he could build a relationship with them that would benefit his race in the future.

On the other hand, he could not shake the feeling that he simply wasn’t worthy. He felt unprepared and unqualified to stand before a bona fide Lady of an Elder Race, much less share a quiet meal at the same table.

Adyr watched him for a moment and easily understood the source of his hesitation. The misunderstanding was almost written on Zephan’s face.

He laughed, this time more openly, a brief, genuine sound that eased some of the tension in the air. "Don’t worry. My mother and sister are not Practitioners. They are only mortals; the only status they have is as my family, that’s all."

"Oh?" Zephan’s surprise showed in his eyes before he could fully hide it. He was genuinely taken aback, and somewhere inside, a little disappointed, though he kept his expression composed.

Still, she must have the authority to command high-rank Adepts, doesn’t she?

His mind refused to calm down. It spun back up again, stacking new possibilities on top of old ones.

He had already decided that whatever race or background Adyr belonged to, it had to be tied to a Demigod-level household. For someone like that, sending a few Rank 5 or even Rank 6 guards to watch over their mortal Lady would not even count as overprotective.

In fact, as he stood there, he could almost feel invisible eyes in the corridor, watching from corners and ceiling shadows, as if those nonexistent royal protectors were already here, silently measuring his every breath and movement. The thought alone was enough to send a cold ripple down his spine.

Zephan, finally deciding, bowed his head slightly in respect. "I would be honored to share a meal with the Lady of your household."

He finally gave his answer with a controlled smile, aware that this might be a rare, perhaps once-in-a-lifetime chance to stand before someone this powerful.

"Good, good. I am sure they will also be happy to meet you."

Adyr laughed again, then looked back toward Henry, shifting from one matter to the next with the ease of someone who knew he was in complete control. "Please prepare extra places for our guests. We are joining my family for the meal."

With that, he walked past them, heading toward the door leading into the room.

Henry quickly nodded to indicate that he understood the order, perfectly portraying the ordinary butler face. On the surface he was calm, but his thoughts were a storm, turning over every worst-case scenario and praying they would not come to pass.

Rhys, however, looked as though he was quietly enjoying himself. The corners of his lips had lifted just enough to show it.