The World Is Mine For The Taking

His words made the back of my neck tingle.

"Oh? So you're saying he didn't accept the invite for profit, but for something else?"

"Exactly." James's tone was sharp now, his smile unwavering. "Christopher Faust is already a king in all but title, thanks to his wealth. He doesn't need their money. He doesn't need their approval. And besides—have you ever seen him make public appearances? He doesn't. He always sends his maid to represent him. He avoids the public more than a king avoids war. If someone like that suddenly goes out of his way to a foreign country… shouldn't you be concerned?"

I exhaled slowly, the weight of his words sinking in. "Well… if you put it that way, then yes. I suppose it is a cause for concern."

James's gaze hardened, his smile never faltering. "You must absolutely watch him. You are his sister. Make sure you know what he's planning."

The word sister made something in me twist.

It wasn't a secret anymore—not to me and not to James—who Christopher Faust really was. He was none other than Leon. A fragment of Lilith, split from the original just as I was, along with four others. That was the only bond we shared. Calling me his sister was misleading. We weren't family. We weren't allies. We weren't anything.

"I'm not his sister," I said flatly.

James tilted his head, studying me with that same maddening calm. "Well, the two of you certainly look alike," he said. "But you already know what he's capable of."

"Right," I admitted. "But he doesn't know what I can do."

Although Leon had been born with a much more powerful ability, one inherited from Lilith herself which was her most powerful ability, I wasn't afraid. I refused to believe I could be defeated so easily. Because I had something he didn't. I had the mind, and I was certain that I have the sharpest edge of all the fragments. I was confident—no, certain—that out of all of us, I was the smartest.

And in this game, intelligence was the weapon that mattered most.

***

Leon's POV

The invasion was so smooth it almost felt unreal. Every step we took, every move we made—it all slid into place as if the Empire itself hadn't even noticed we slipped under its skin. It wasn't chaotic, it wasn't messy—it was clean, fluid, almost too easy. Honestly, it went so perfectly that I caught myself thinking, hell, even a toddler could've done this if they just followed the plan. That was how simple it turned out to be.

But really, the Empire made it easy for us. The heat here wasn't just hot—it was suffocating, the kind of sweltering air that clung to your body, seeped into your lungs, and made your skin feel like it was cooking under the sun's fire. You couldn't survive here without wrapping yourself up head to toe, shielding your skin from the sun's wrath. And because of that, people walking the streets looked more like bundles of cloth than human beings. That single custom—that survival instinct—was the key to our infiltration.

I didn't even have to try too hard. I already had an invitation in my hands, which made the whole thing laughably easy. There was no need for elaborate disguises and no sneaking in shadows for me. All I had to do was change my hair, and suddenly, I was just another face lost in the crowd. The others, though, had to work harder. They slipped in through the route Artemis had prepared, every inch of their bodies wrapped in heavy layers to conceal their pointed elven ears. In this place, a single exposed detail could mean death.

And so, the first part of our mission was complete. Infiltration: successful. Now came the next step, and it was far heavier and that was the creation of the base of operations. We had two long, burning months of summer ahead of us, and in that time, our mission was clear. We were here to free the elves who had been dragged into chains, stripped of their freedom, and forced into slavery.

That was the heart of it. But we weren't blind. We knew there were others here too, not just elves. And if fate allowed it, if chances fell into our hands, we would save them as well. Human, demi-human, anyone. But still, we had to be careful. We couldn't just storm in and break chains left and right like some heroes in a fairy tale. The Empire wasn't weak. It was strong, armored, and heavily guarded. It was a machine built for war, and we were ants crawling through its gears. Thinking we could take on the entire structure at once? That wasn't bravery—that was insanity.

Even just slipping inside its walls had been bold, reckless even. To go further than that? To try and break the foundation of their system? That would require a plan without a single mistake. One flaw, one slip, one overlooked detail could doom us all. And in a place crawling with soldiers, filled with spies, and thick with politics, perfection wasn't realistic. There was too many variables and too many moving pieces.

Even if the Empire wasn't a militaristic powerhouse—even if it were just a soft, unsuspecting country—trying to save every slave would still be an absurdly bold move. That was the weight of what we were facing.

"Which is why I'm drawing up the plan myself," Clarett's voice carried through the phone pressed to my ear.

She was far away, sitting on her chair back at the Kingdom of Elves, but her tone carried the same sharpness as if she were right beside me. Clarett wasn't just good at strategy—she was a natural, someone whose mind spun webs of logic and foresight with ease. It was only natural she'd stay behind, away from the field, where her head could stay clear, where her eyes could see the whole board.

"I'll compose the plan for us," she said, steady and precise. "So update me with everything that happens there. Don't leave out a single detail."

"Roger," I answered without hesitation.

But even as I listened, there was something else I couldn't ignore. The sound of her breathing. It wasn't steady—it was heavy, ragged, filling the silence between her words. It made me pause, frowning, wondering what the hell she was doing on her end of the line. She didn't explain, and I didn't ask, but the sound clung to my ears even after the call ended.

I slipped the phone away and turned. Beside me was Aegis.

She had been adamant about it, refusing the idea of staying back, rejecting the role of a mere backup. So she had insisted—demanded, actually—that she would infiltrate directly, right at my side. And now, here she was, clearly regretting at least one part of it.

"Ugh… why am I wearing such breezy clothing?" she groaned, tugging at the thin fabric and glaring down at herself as though the outfit had personally offended her.

I couldn't help but grin, amusement tugging at my lips. "Well, I can't exactly let you hide your beauty, can I? This is the Empire. Customs here are different. A woman's considered well-loved by her man if her skin looks healthy and radiant. And you—" my gaze trailed over her, catching the golden hue where the sun had kissed her skin, "you might be slightly tanned, but that only adds to it. It's still healthy and still beautiful. Perfect for the role you're playing. Since you're going to be my lover for the rest of this mission, it's only natural that I, as the owner of Leonamon, make sure you look the part. Letting you cover yourself head to toe would make me look careless, even unworthy."

Her glare sharpened, eyes burning into me like knives. "I don't want to be well-loved by you," she snapped, her voice as sharp as her stare.

I only shrugged, unfazed. "Well, this is the setting you chose, isn't it? So naturally, you've got to commit to it. Play your part. Be lovey-dovey with me, like you mean it."

Her jaw tightened. I could hear her teeth grinding together in frustration, see the tension in her shoulders as she fought against the idea. She hated it—every word as well as every implication. But still, she wasn't walking away. She wasn't backing out. Even if it burned her pride, she was going to play along.

And watching her bristle like that, cheeks faintly flushed, biting down her protests just to stay on track… I couldn't lie. It was ridiculously cute.