Hidden within my Conceptualisation, I hovered down a neglected, sealed-off passageway located at the furthest end of the mansion. Neither unattended corridors nor mouldy air worthy of a crypt had any influence on me as I thought about how many I'd to kill over the years to keep the secret.

This had become a ritual by now. 'It keeps me from going mad.' No matter how often I barged in, the obfuscating flow of energy pootling along words of power smeared all over the walls always intensified the uneasiness that settled in my bones.

'Why does Elder Brother relish living here?' Perhaps for the millionth time, the question echoed in my mind, cursed to remain unanswered. Dust had piled up so much that the parquet's original colour was a mystery and thousands of cobwebs dangled from the ceiling like faded linen stuck to an old coffin.

Spiders, maggots and other vermins of ill repute crept by as I advanced to my destination. Thank the Masters they're pushed back by my Conceptualisation so I need not step all over lumps of poison coated in horrid stench.

Cursing at the slow pace of my means of movement, I found comfort in repeating the many reasons doing so was necessary. With half a foot in the realm of shadows, I left no proof of my existence behind in the physical world. "The family's unrest..." I muttered as my teeth repeatedly nibbled on my lips.

I was nervous. Verily so. I was not the bearer of good news for my Elder Brother. My only solace was that his periodic outburst had happened half a cycle ago, so I had less to fear. Given that my report wouldn't upset him too much...

With a heavy heart, I reeled my straying thoughts back in and looked at a random piece of repetitive furnishing decorating the walls. I chuckled. The concealment was perfect. Without prior knowledge, I might have crossed this section ten times out of ten, unsuspecting of the hidden passageway.

I turned to the inconspicuous wooden plaster above the remains of a broken stuffed animal that decorated both sides of the corridor, extending all over the arched ceiling, and pressed on a well-hidden, pristine tile.

Habitually, as the secret contraption silently swung in motion, my alert gaze wandered up and down the dimly lit corridor. After the paper-thin wall folded sideways under surging ripples and gave way to a secret small door, I briskly entered, evading any follow-up safety mechanism.

In the old days, many dimwitted slaves had unconsciously activated the mechanism, thus making a bloody mess out of the corridor. Only after we had sealed it with the excuse of abandoning the haunted for everyone's well-being, did things settle down.

'Back in these days, Elder Brother prepared well. His foresight helps the clan even now.' As my thoughts wandered, I proceeded down a few utterly dark floors where deadly traps, curse formations, switch tablets and incendiary orbs lay in wait for an unsuspecting fool to blunder onto.

At long last, another brittle door appeared in front of me, one that had pale light shining from behind the rugged clefts. I deactivated my Conceptualisation. Barely a second passed before an age-old sigh made it known that the person behind knew of my arrival and granted me entry into a cell-like room.

A cupboard, a crude bed and a wooden wall riddled with an abundance of grotesque holes greeted me.

That, and an old, fragile man I had trouble not to overlook sitting on the bed, legs crossed and seemingly lost in everlasting meditation.

With the exception of the omnipresent menacing air of oppression that swirled around him and an occasional spark of life flashing across his gaunt body, he seemed as stiff as a popsicle frozen in time.

“The Lord has become colder. The Lord wishes to see results, not endless preparations. The Lord puts pressure on the family.” 'Elder Brother has become stronger yet again, huh...'

With the mention of the Lord thrice, it did not feel like my stay here would be over easily. Without any other valid alternative, I hastily scrapped the report I've prepared in favour of a neutral recollection of pressing matters. Elder Brother didn't wait that long, though.

“If we don’t move soon, I fear his Lordship turn indifferent to our cause. This is not what we desire. It ruins all our plans. Nothing must go wrong!” “…the third batch arrived earlier, thanks to my urging. We’re set on that front.”

“And the guards?” No matter how often I communicated with him, telepathy still creeped me out. However, while part of me was occupied with suppressing my fears, my mouth gave Elder Brother a neutral account of the main aspects I'd influenced subtly over the weeks before concluding with the highlight.

“Well over two months ago, Elder Rockfist retreated into the woodlands to hunt and increase his experience in handling bloody matters. When the time was ripe, I secretly gave him the strenuous task of training our dullheads.

Thanks for his regard to the family and hate towards that upright crook, he gave up momentarily on his… passion.” “He… has peculiar tastes, if I recall correctly.”

I loved it when Elder Brother remained unfeeling and decisive in the face of potential gains. That capability of the Patriarch was exactly what makes and breaks a clan. “Make sure he’s put on a leash but paid handsomely.” We had enough fair maidens to spare, so there was no need to refute his order.

“Of course.” If I could influence people, I would rather they have all such kinks. It made my job in overseeing and controlling them easier while at the same time guaranteeing the clan always operated on morally high ground when punishing troublemakers.

Elder Rockfist had the necessary personality to shape the troops to our liking and was hardworking at that. 'Wars are fought with overwhelming power, not love. That man is such a useless dreamer.' I could diss that creep all day long, so I had to rein myself in properly. At least if in the presence of Elder Brother.

“We made the best of the messy state of affairs considering how pressed for time we are, but it happens that preparations are lacking still. Correct me if I err.” “…hence three batches this month.”

“Too naïve.” I fell silent for a moment, unsure of the practicality of a proposal of mine. After more or less half an hour in which we simply remained where we were, doing what must be done, I came to the conclusion it seemed to be worth a shot.

“There’re others too; those slaved away retards, the old, sick, talentless… or curious. Expendable, for short.” I immediately felt the increment in pressure in the room and knew Elder Brother was so occupied with his own thoughts to lose strict control over his aura.

My idea was controversial and might cause us heavy backlash if leaked, but at the same time, there was much to be gained if things played out as they should. Any loss we incurred was worth it in my book if we are able to please his Lordship.

“…be certain none remain. An additional, preventable blemish to the glorious name Balen is unacceptable. And most important: Don’t give fuel to the fire other clans fan like the madmen they are.

Their unnecessary attention is shackle enough, we don’t want anything else hinting at something that mustn’t be known. Never forget, disrupting the Lord’s plans equals generational extermination. If we are to fall from grace, we won’t survive. All of us won’t.”

I wisely kept my mouth shut, for Eldest Brother was no longer in the mood to entertain me or any other problem there were. It was hard, but I had to remind myself again that too much was at stake to stop and continue preparations slowly but cautiously.

However, one thing was impossible to keep under wraps. I needed to know everything about it, else it was beyond me to fully assess our damaged position in this city or evaluate the performance of my underlings.

For this, I bravely composed myself and stepped willingly on the landmine, addressing the darn happenstance responsible for this mess.

“…is it confirmed? Rather–” Elder Brother immediately knew what I was talking about. “No. The Wrathinger keep oddly quiet as if the rumours have nothing to do with them.

Heh, that lot and restraint. Ridiculous.” There was much venomous indignation contained in his tone, though the voice remained uncharacteristically powerless. I didn't like that one bit.

“Only God knows why the bastards got another Reincarnator after the first one some decades ago. But… that’s good too. It’s exactly this experience warning us of what is to be expected of our bleak future.

Remember those times when you were just a silly brat? Back then their foolish Patriarch had nothing better to do than to waggle his ugly tail around whenever and wherever he could, yet now…”

“At that time where an elder of Flowermeer came in person and took in a disciple, huh?” “A wretched toy if anything. Though, merely scratching on the matter’s surface still cost me an arm.

Heh, I have to praise the Devil my head sits firm where it’s supposed to be and the tombstone up above is without a corresponding corpse.” “The sacrifice did not last long, though.”

“The only reason for our comeback and my secret’s survival. As much as I hate to admit, we are simply toys that can be easily left alone or even destroyed if interest wanes.

Had it taken another month for that lamp to be blown out, that wretched crook with more luck than brains would’ve gotten close enough to those politically drunk hyenas in the Prefecture City Bugle to have us dance to his tune or die.”

My mind was assaulted by icy fury as I recalled events from back then. Although only a mere backwater-city disciple at that time, a carefully groomed candidate for the position of an elder, I couldn't hold a candle to even the weakest porter originating from Flowermere.

I still vividly remember up to this day myself being pushed around like a retard by those high and mighty arseholes, only to lose my father and crush to the vermin. 'And that fury had forced me to improve myself and grow up until I became who I am today.'

“So very true. Alas, how can the same family give birth to another Reincarnator? Are they as common as turnips all of a sudden?” “…as I said, they don’t wag their tails around, they show no intention of answering questions nor do they take advantage of the situation to build up momentum or curry favour with the different authorities.

Neither covert nor open actions against us either–––notwithstanding the crook wishing for the Balen’s demise even in his dreams. I have reason to believe they reduced their meddling in everybody’s affairs since a few months ago.

Does this sound like something that the same man would do?” I now finally understood the extent of our plight. My nape chilled and back hunched over. 'If the Reincarnator was frail like the first one, things wouldn’t be nearly as bad as they now are–––for a barking dog does not bite.'

My thoughts were lost on the roller-coaster as I continued to put back together piece by piece of the puzzle. 'As for a silent one… one has to watch out even for one’s shadow.

And that's not even a guarantee of safety.' “The bastard Reincarnator mustn’t be a simple fellow,” I hissed under clenched teeth, to which Elder Brother had nothing but sarcasm left.

“And that you’re telling me of all people? 47 spies sent, 33 disappeared, 7 went mad, 5 abandoned the mission, leaving only 2 successful infiltrations. Let’s not mention how 2 alone provide no safe source of information, they even paid with their life for delivering unintelligible nonsense. Plus, the 5 can be considered turncoats.

This preoccupies me the most. For I cannot fathom what the 33 divulged and what’s still hidden. The only saving grace is that they were only disposable tools knowing useless junk. But junk is still a source of information.”

“What a waste of resources.” “You don't remind me. I took good care of the remaining ones myself, so forget these ungrateful pests. As I see you are terribly interested in the matter, tell me. What does it mean to keep your own clan’s Patriarch in the dark, to overthrow him openly without him knowing?”

“Blârder must have messed up badly.” “Middle-class.” “Eldest Brother?” “A member of a middle-class organisation waiting for reinforcements to come–––is my speculation.” “…what?” The room suddenly closed in on me, pressing all the air out of my lungs as I had trouble keeping myself on my two feet.

In comparison, Flowermere was considered only a low-class force in the stellar firmament of powerful sects. When I found that out during one of my travels, I almost had a heart attack. 'We digress,' I forced myself to concentrate. My reeling head...

It wasn't my imagination either, for the room's temperature suddenly fell drastically, the bed iced over and the cupboard had centimetre thick ice growing on top in no time. Even Elder Brother shuddered with me.

“Failure is no option.” He didn't need to repeat himself, I already understood the value of our stakes. Sudden realisation alone was not enough to incapacitate us, but at our level intuition was oftentimes more accurate than reason. Which turned out to be the cause of the recent call to action.

“If we want to survive the incoming storm, the Lord’s protection is our only salvation. Even if it turns out he’s more bark than bite, I highly doubt our guests dare behave preposterously in his den.

Water from afar cannot fight a local wildfire after all.” “Yes, Elder Brother.” “Shadow, take the First and Third Elder with you, I’ll surface again to train and instruct our official forces. Let that be a diversion.

That should give these sharks enough tough meat to chew on and things to ponder over. But keep in mind half a year is the most I can guarantee.” With my hands itching for cruelty, my eyes probably turned bloodshot at that moment.

I hadn't indulged myself in slaughter for way too long. It was high time I got hands-on practice. 'What better time to pick than this one?' “No need for half a year.

Besides, the Patriarch is another deterrent too.” A slight tremor ran over Elder Brother, a tremble up his lips and a shudder down his itching legs. I miscalculated. In a moment of brashness, I just had to mention the worst disgrace. My bad.

Yet Elder Brother didn't seem to go on a murder spree just like that. I could feel how hard it was, but he kept his displeasure under control, not even leaking a single bit of killing intent. 'How scary...'

Then he spoke again, like the sweet whisper from the Devil himself. “I don’t care how you do it, but take the pawns along for a rough ride. I hope to see them coming back mellow and subdued, that should give our dear… Patriarch… the right idea.”

Glad there was no price to pay for my folly; I could not help but brusquely answer in indignation. “These annoying pests again? I shall do my best to not crush a limb or two on impulse.”

'It seems he is of the same mind. How great.' “Shadow.” “Yes, Eldest Brother.” “Take as many slaves as you need. Don’t worry about leaving lacking manpower, I’ve got that covered.”

“The Village Head of Grey Mountain…” “Keke. Worry not over an incompetent fool. Some time ago, the clan helped him with a certain matter. That ridiculous oaf desired a concubine, yet failed to keep her suitor at bay.

One good village head he is! Of the kind whose uses are endless and make for great puppets executing orders, once beat into their sottish minds, to the letter.” “One talentless screw for eternal bootlicking. If everybody were as simple-minded as that, my workload–”

I turned around abruptly, fixating one particular hole on the wall with eyes coated in qi. “Hm?” “Somebody was definitively listening in.” “Hmm, must’ve forgotten to close the lid then.”

Elder Brother laughed nastily at his own mishap. “Never mind, Shadow, that one’s connected to the lowliest of slave’s quarters–––scum so stupid you may question their race.

Know that, I asked for noodles just the other day and got some fools erroneous cultivation insight doodles on my best platter. Today it was pork, but what I saw hangs above,” he was never a man to rant on and on.

So it made me wonder what had transpired. I followed on instinct, looked up... and stifled a peal of laughter. That sure explained things... A cut-up pigorc trophy glued to a silver bowl. Yes, at least pig was included in the name…

“Shadow, do you really believe one such ape is capable enough to catch bits and pieces of our conversation?

Hmm, let’s just assume right away that a miracle happens, and that the tramp overhears every word–––can a birdbrain handle the contents?” “No.” “Well, also don’t forget they are affiliated with… your first target group.”

This time I could no longer suppress my laughter. It suddenly all made sense. 'How good must Elder Brother be to plan for every possible situation? And extract value from even the most worthless waste of space?' I was in awe.

Crash! As the next vase joined the slowly piling up mountain of various shards, I held my head low at a calculated angle, hoping to escape the consequences of the master’s ire.

Whilst it pained my heart to see priceless remnants of ancient art smashed–––art as expensive as what three honest family generations couldn’t possibly gather–––I dared not show apparent repugnance.

After all, I was the third butler required to attend to the master in this rather young year. I had all intentions of not experiencing the dreaded honourable severance pay-out, which made of my predecessors women not even a brothel would welcome.

Bang! A large jug passed my shoulder by a hair’s breadth, with another one following close behind not being so considerate. It hit me right on the forehead before shattering into a thousand pieces raining down my dolled-up face together with lots of blood.

Regardless, I didn’t care about the dull pain gnawing on my nerves like maggots on rotten flesh, nor did I react to the master’s indecent words hurled my way. The man simply couldn't behave any better. 'He's a swine.' That I repeated for the umpteenth time already.

Outwards, I merely stood unmoving, with my back bent low enough to obscure the diabolical grin etched deep on my bangs-covered face. Yesterday's event was still fresh in my mind.

Lafedìn, my glorious idol and true master, had tied all the important clansmen to her cause with absolute efficiency before she’d placed the seemingly all-powerful Patriarch under house arrest–––like anyone would an unruly kid that did something wrong.

'And a kid he is. Incapable of anything more than fucking his mind blank.' Most laughable of all, before it got through the deluded guy’s thick skull he did not deal with a snotty sacrificial girl, but a genuine Reincarnator in the flesh that obviously wasn’t brain-damaged, he was left to weep in a corner–––caged, and the key confiscated.

Seeing his awkward helplessness, my admiration for her Ladyship only increased. Suddenly, I had to subtly evade a sharp executioner’s weapon dating back to a historic era long past. Slow enough not to catch his attention, but not too slow to be hit. 'It's hard. A common woman's life surely isn't easy.'

Although Lafedìn, or whoever that soul in her body belonged to, was responsible for the sudden spike in danger to my life, I couldn’t help but admire her for the farsightedness, intelligence and exquisiteness with which she pulled the strings.

I was convinced, had her Ladyship not stepped forward personally to directly explain his situation, the conceited Patriarch would have never known his distinguished seat had long since changed ownership.

This considered… it also pained me. 'We're both women, fearless, sly, daring and not all that unfamiliar with manipulation. We struggle hard under the kingdom's darn rules restricting our kind at every turn, reducing us to mere breeding constructs with no will of our own.

Yet the differences between us can't be greater.' As my Ladyship made plans, communicated with old associates and waited for the right moment to strike, I remained here, watching the Patriarch as he continued to trash his beloved collection while jabbering unintelligible sentences.

When not lost in ridiculous daydreams, the horny middle-aged fool would glance at my flat chest or fat waist, disgust written all over his pockmarked donkey-face.

I subtly smiled at him in belittling ridicule. 'If the toad ever knows I've tightly cockled the hem seams around my chest and complemented my figure with additional cloth where necessary, I wonder what sullen face he'll make!'

Never in his wildest dreams would the man have ever imagined that the good lamb attending to his needs was me, a venomous snake sent to monitor his every move. And that I did, just as ordered by her Ladyship.

Well... as I recalled how many magnificent as repetitive stunts he was responsible for over the last 29 hours, I couldn’t help but wonder if such a level of wariness was a necessity at all.

End of the Intermission