NOVEL NEXT Chapter 836: New Order In The Cracks
As the old saying goes, if you can't beat them, join them.
Damon understood that at the moment he could not take Seraph Null in terms of faith not with the amount of time and followers available to him.
So instead, he would take something else.
The foundation of his plan was simple.
He would take governance.
It took a great deal to rule a city, but you could never control every part of it. There were things you had to abandon not because you wanted to, but because you had no choice.
Like most rulers, Seraph Null abandoned the shadows.
The criminal underworld.
Where there was poverty and hardship, despair, fear, and helplessness bred two things. One was crime.
The other was religion.
What better breeding ground than the Grinding Gate?
And that was exactly what Damon was cultivating.
.....
A man walked through the night beneath a low hood, his steps light and deliberate. When he slipped into an alley corner, he stopped.
He was so thoroughly blended with the darkness that he was almost invisible, as if the shadows recognized him, as if the night itself acknowledged his presence.
Another man emerged from the opposite end of the alley.
Unlike the first, he made no effort to hide. Even in the darkness, his outline remained visible.
He leaned against the same wall, the distant cries of nocturnal creatures echoing faintly around them.
"Are the rumors true?" the second man asked, his voice steady despite the setting. "Is there really a way to bypass the brands?"
The man in the shadows was silent for a moment.
"That depends," he replied at last. "Are you interested?"
The second man scoffed, a flicker of disdain crossing his face.
"As if that's possible. And even if it is, you'd provoke the Archivists. I wouldn't want to be in their sights, now or ever."
"Heheh."
The man in the shadows chuckled softly.
"Yet here you are," he said. "Looking for little old me to verify your information."
The second man clicked his tongue, rubbing his hands together to ward off the bone-chilling desert cold.
"Fine," he muttered. "I'm interested. The guys up north want laxer surveillance for their operations. Smuggling food and mana cores. You know the usual."
The first man inclined his head slightly.
"Say no more. With our network and power, they can do whatever they want. Of course," he added calmly, "you'll give me a bit of information in return."
He paused.
"The location of the Black Crows' leader."
The second man hesitated, jaw tightening, then slowly nodded.
"Not that you'll do much with it. Even knowing where he is, I'd advise staying the hell away. He's not the most powerful man in the Grinding Gate for no reason."
The man in the shadows shrugged.
"I'll take my chances."
He produced a branding seal.
The moment it appeared, the second man stiffened, eyes widening.
"That's… a branding seal," he said slowly. "The Chainbearers have been cracking down hard. One went missing a few days ago. Word is they found it on some no-name thief in the Gray Chain sector."
"Heheh."
The first man laughed, the sound thick with smug satisfaction.
"Let's just say you have nothing to worry about. This one belongs to my organization. Everything's been arranged."
He stepped forward and pressed the seal into place.
The second man gasped sharply as the heat bit into his skin.
"Take this to the ones who sent you," the first man said calmly. "With it, you can remove your brands. The new ones are fakes, prepared by our god of darkness and our great lord of shadows."
He tilted his head slightly, a thin, almost predatory smile forming.
"Keeping this is dangerous. But if you join us, you get food, mana cores, and protection."
As the rebranding completed, the second man glanced down at his wrist.
The old brand was gone.
A new power pulsed beneath his skin.
'They really do have a god…'
The man in the shadows chuckled and pressed the branding seal into his hand.
"Keep it. There's plenty more where that came from. Work with us, and you'll be part of the new rulers of Yari."
Cold sweat trickled down the second man's temple.
"And if I refuse?"
The first man took a single step back.
The shadows behind him stirred.
A figure formed entirely black, featureless, its eyes cold and empty. It surged forward and seized the second man by the throat.
"I—I'll join!" he gasped.
The shadow vanished instantly.
He collapsed to the ground, coughing violently, clutching his neck.
When he finally stood, hands trembling, he pulled a folded piece of paper from his coat and handed it over.
"That's the Black Crows' base. All their strongest fighters are there. Your guy's strong, sure, but that's a lot of veterans. They could've moved deeper into the city, but they chose to stay here."
He swallowed.
"Better to be the head of a snake than the tail of a dragon."
The first man nodded, pulling his hood lower.
"Good. That makes it worth our time."
He glanced back at the second man.
"I'm telling you this for old times' sake. Don't cross the cult."
"You'll die terribly."
He turned away.
"That brand doubles as a communicator. You'll receive directives through it. Good luck."
Within seconds, he was gone, swallowed by the night.
The remaining man stared down at the brand in his hand, unaware of the deep, inky shadows pooling at his feet.
His heart thundered in his chest.
It was an open secret in the Grinding Gate now.
A new organization was moving.
At first, people thought it was just another criminal group. No one cared, except the gang bosses and crime families.
Then those families changed overnight.
Only the best hiders remained.
And the Black Crows.
Most disturbing of all was that the Chainbearers and even the Archivists knew nothing.
Everything happened in silence.
In shadow.
As if masters of darkness had arrived and begun to claim the city.
"At least there's more food going around," he muttered.
Then a voice echoed inside his head.
"Gatel Ambrose… behold. I am god."
His eyes widened.
The brand burned faintly as the words settled into his mind.