"Interesting."

A faint glint of amusement flashed through the crown prince's eyes as he watched Kailen's movements on the holographic screen.

Reclining into the sofa's embrace, his posture was one of elegant ease—right leg crossed neatly over the left, the faintest smirk playing at his lips.

"Kailen Darkhaven," he murmured. "It seems things will be far more entertaining than I imagined."

An ethereal voice, dark, regal, and eerie, echoed in his mind.

"You don't want him dead?"

The crown prince's smile deepened, though his gaze never left the screen.

"Not yet. There's no thrill in killing someone before the stage is set. Let him grow. Let him rise. I want to see what kind of monster he becomes… before one of us finally falls."

For a moment, silence filled the room—then he spoke again, tone almost wistful.

"In the past, I would've wanted him gone the moment I saw his name. His father was one of the men I hated most.

But hatred fades. It loses taste after too many years of blood and power.

Now, all I want is a proper ending—something worth remembering."

The vimodial's voice stirred once more.

"You already knew the inevitable end of Vimodial contractors before you became contracted to me, right?"

"Of course," the crown prince said with a faint, worn-out laugh.

"I've danced this dance long enough. I've fought my political wars, spun lies for the throne, silenced rivals, and deceived the empire itself.

I've had everything I ever wanted—power, influence, control."

He leaned his head back, eyes half-closed, voice softening into something almost human.

"But in the end, even power rots.

Only conflict keeps the heart alive.

So let Kailen come… maybe he'll make my last act worth watching."

The vimodial sighed.

"Why then did you agree to Bryce Darkhaven's request?"

"I was intrigued about how Kailen Darkhaven would handle the situation. And frankly, he didn't disappoint me.

He's fun to watch."

The vimodial sighed silently, leaving the crown prince to his thoughts.

****

Samantha Dakharven's knees grew weak, her gaze focused on the holographic screen before her.

From the moment her son had died an extremely ruthless and humiliating death, to when Kailen Darkhaven sat atop a mountain of corpses to cultivate, she had been in shock and denial.

It was now that the weight of what had happened had fully settled in.

Her son was dead.

Tears of agony and despair streamed endlessly across her cheeks.

If those emotions were colorful, she'd be crying blood right now.

She couldn't speak, couldn't utter a word—just silent, lifeless tears.

Her husband, Cyrus—the one expected to be a firm source of strength, probably supposed to be comforting her right now—was in no better mood.

Rather, he was worse.

He coughed a mouthful of blood, face pale, the shock of his son's death too much to process.

His son was dead—killed by the son of the brother he hated with everything in him—and worst of all, he knew that he could do nothing.

If in the past he could have underestimated Kailen's strength, he couldn't anymore.

He was a Black Flask.

And for beginner-stage galactic-level lifeforms, getting rid of them would be a piece of cake for the young man.

His strength aside, the backing the kid had was something else—Ross Kadmen (a strong demi-human half-spectral race powerhouse- a secret about the man he had accidentally heard from a high ranking military officer in the past), the Atrexians, Long Hai Training Hall, Runesmith Association, and the Alchemy Association.

And now, it was inevitable that with what he had demonstrated on the battlefield—especially his capabilities as a Black Flask—forget about the other hegemons, the open backing of the Alchemy Association alone would be enough to cripple the Darkhaven Clan, no matter what deep roots the clan had in the military.

Because the military would never piss off the Alchemy Association—makers of alchemical products that aided in the cultivation of soldiers, especially talent-enhancing elixirs.

In fact, with Kailen Darkhaven's alchemical prowess and his Black Flask identity, the military would seem stupid if they chose to make him an enemy because of the Darkhaven Clan.

Also, the empire's military wouldn't want to go against all these forces backing the kid.

If the crown prince didn't reach out to help him avenge his son, then there was nothing he could do.

And from the looks of things so far, the crown prince seemed uninterested in his son and himself.

All in all, he was fucked and alone.

The realization was extremely daunting, despairing, and hit him like a meteorite had crashed into him.

What hit him the most was the rumor—that his son was a rumored vimodial contractor.

Kailen Darkhaven had kept his son's corpse as a spoil of war.

And from what he knew about Kailen Darkhaven's abilities, based on the details of his battles from Earth, the kid had absolute command over his shadow creatures and could let them spill secrets they had from before they became shadow creatures.

If the kid managed to find out that his son was truly a vimodial contractor—something that Cyrus himself was not personally aware of—then the Darkhaven Clan would face unimaginable consequences.

Cyrus sighed deeply, the realization of his current state setting in.

He needed to flee the empire with his wife, because staying here would only result in death.

But first, he could not act suspiciously.

He'd take the time to mourn his son for a few months, and when the whole issue of his son's death settled, he'd secretly flee the empire with his wife.

This was the only way forward he could envision.

Cyrus remembered until recently, he looked down upon Kailen Darkhaven.

However, the young man had suddenly become a terrifying existence he had to flee from.

He sighed deeply, the sigh carrying the weight of his helplessness and fear.

"To think even in death, the progeny of my brother will still haunt me."

Cyrus finally realised the state of his weeping wife.

He turned, then walked towards her, pulling his weeping and broken wife into his embrace, his eyes full of complex ,melancholic emotions.

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