Chapter 327: The war for Arven could no longer be avoided.

Dawn arrived gray over Arven.

The fog hung low between the city’s towers, slowly swallowing the aristocratic rooftops and narrow stone streets as if the kingdom itself were trying to hide what would happen that night.

Inside Damon’s mansion, no one had truly slept.

The library remained illuminated by the last candles of the early morning. The smell of melted wax, cold tea, and old paper permeated the air while maps, reports, and lists remained scattered across the large central table like remnants of an intellectual battle fought to the point of exhaustion.

But the weariness no longer mattered.

Now there was direction.

Now there was a plan.

Damon stood before the main window watching the city slowly awaken below the hill. Carriages began to cross the central avenues. Merchants opened their shops. Servants traversed the streets carrying boxes and fabrics.

Arven continued to function normally.

And that was the most disturbing thing.

Because while the city awoke in relative peace, a silent war had already begun in the shadows.

Behind him, Morgana remained seated before the main table, still wearing the same clothes as the previous night. She didn’t seem tired. Not exactly.

She seemed sharp.

Like a taut blade near the breaking point.

Sir Halbrecht’s blood-stained red ribbon remained on the table.

She hadn’t allowed anyone to remove it.

Elizabeth watched this in silence as she finished reviewing a new series of open letters. Her contacts had worked throughout the night. Minor lords, merchants, discreet bankers, and even city administrative officials were slowly beginning to move.

The news wasn’t yet public.

But fear was already circulating.

And fear always moved faster than the truth.

Cherry appeared yawning as she crossed the library holding an apple stolen from somewhere in the kitchen.

"You are deeply unsettling," she commented as she threw herself into an armchair. "Nobody here sleeps."

"Inspiring to hear that coming from you," Damon replied without turning around.

"Thank you."

Ingrivid entered shortly after, carrying another tray of tea.

No one questioned how she still managed to maintain such an impeccably calm demeanor after an entire night organizing clandestine routes, secret messages, and possible evacuation lines.

Damon was sincerely beginning to suspect that Ingrivid was more frightening than half the conspirators in that city.

She placed the cups on the table.

"We received responses."

Elizabeth looked up immediately.

"How many?"

"Five."

Cherry bit into her apple.

"That seems worryingly efficient."

Ingrivid slid some letters across the table.

"House Verden has agreed to a private meeting."

Elizabeth nodded slowly.

"Of course they accepted."

"House Bellmoire officially refused."

"Because they still believe the Duchess will win."

"Probably."

Morgana finally spoke for the first time that morning.

"House Bellmoire has always been composed of cowards."

Elizabeth raised an eyebrow.

"Rich cowards."

"Even worse."

Damon slowly turned to the table.

"And the merchants?"

Ingrivid handed over another document.

"Divided."

Elizabeth took the letter quickly.

"That’s good."

Cherry looked genuinely confused.

"How exactly is ’divided’ good?"

"Because it means hesitation," Elizabeth replied calmly. "And hesitation means they already sense instability."

Damon rested his hands on the table.

"If the merchants start withdrawing financial support from the Duchess’s private guard..."

"She’ll lose her ability to react quickly," Elizabeth concluded.

Morgana remained silent.

But Damon noticed something important.

She no longer seemed consumed by hatred.

Now she was calculating.

Planning.

And that made her even more dangerous.

Cedric entered the library a few minutes later accompanied by the other loyal guards. They all seemed equally tense.

The man walked directly to Morgana.

"We’ve received more information from the mansion."

The entire room immediately went on alert.

"What happened?" Damon asked.

Cedric hesitated before answering.

"Two more men disappeared during the night."

The atmosphere instantly worsened.

"Guards?" Elizabeth asked.

"Yes."

"Veterans?"

Cedric nodded slowly.

Morgana closed her eyes for a moment.

Her control was beginning to become dangerously fragile again.

"She’s speeding up," she murmured.

"Because she’s scared," Damon replied.

"Or because she’s running out of time," Elizabeth added.

Cherry watched everything in unusually serious silence.

That alone was enough to make the atmosphere worse.

Cedric then placed another small object on the table.

A key.

An old one.

Made of dark iron.

Morgana recognized it immediately.

"The south passage."

Cedric confirmed.

"Her men haven’t discovered it yet."

Damon approached the map.

"Where does it lead?"

"Directly below the central corridor." Morgana pointed to the floor plan. "Near the old family quarters."

Elizabeth immediately saw the potential.

"A secure internal route."

"Partially secure," Cedric corrected. "If it hasn’t already been compromised."

"Everything in this situation is partially secure," Damon murmured.

Cherry smiled discreetly.

"That should become the group’s official motto."

Ingrivid completely ignored the comment.

"We need to set the times."

Damon nodded.

"We go in after midnight."

Cedric frowned.

"Late."

Everyone looked at him.

The guard took a deep breath before continuing.

"The patrol change happens before then. It’s the most unstable time for internal security."

Elizabeth understood immediately.

"Operational confusion."

"Exactly."

Damon looked at Morgana.

"What time?"

She answered without hesitation.

"Eleven twenty."

"Specific."

"Because I know that house."

The brief silence that followed carried something strange.

Familiarity.

Pain.

Morgana wasn’t talking about the mansion as someone describing a strategic target.

She was talking about her home.

And perhaps that was exactly what made it all so cruel.

Cherry slowly twirled the knife between her fingers.

"So we’re really going to do this."

"Yes," Damon replied.

"Invade an aristocratic mansion infested with mind-controlled guards?"

"Yes."

"To take down a possible paranoid arcane manipulator?"

"Cherry."

"I’m just confirming the absurdity of the situation."

Elizabeth finished folding one of the letters.

"The absurdity is long gone."

Ingrivid approached the fireplace again.

"The biggest problem remains the Duke."

Morgana immediately looked up.

Cedric spoke before she could.

"He’s getting worse."

Silence fell again.

Damon immediately noticed the change in Morgana’s face.

Fear.

Cruel.

Brutal.

Cedric continued carefully.

"Yesterday he tried to leave his quarters."

Morgana stepped forward.

"What?"

"Apparently he got... confused." The guard seemed uncomfortable explaining. "He started walking down the corridors without recognizing his own men."

Elizabeth narrowed her eyes.

"And the Duchess?"

Cedric hesitated.

"She lost control."

This immediately caught everyone’s attention.

"Explain," said Damon.

Cedric took a deep breath.

"She started yelling at him."

The silence became absolute.

Morgana seemed unable to breathe for a moment.

"Yelling?"

Cedric nodded slowly.

"The servants heard everything from the hallway."

"She never loses control in public," murmured Elizabeth.

"She does now," replied Cedric.

Damon exchanged a silent look with Elizabeth.

This was important.

Very important.

Because growing paranoia breeds emotional failures.

And emotional failures destroy political control.

Morgana slowly clenched her fists.

"She’s becoming unstable."

"Or desperate," Elizabeth replied.

Cherry watched everything with unusually serious attention.

"Desperate people often set cities on fire."

"Yes," Damon replied calmly. "That’s exactly what I’m trying to avoid."

Ingrivid added more wood to the fireplace.

"The problem is that we might already be too late."

No one answered.

Because no one there could completely deny that possibility.

The wind continued to blow against the library windows as the morning slowly advanced over Arven.

The city remained alive.

Ignorant.

Blind.

Nobles were still planning balls.

Merchants were still discussing prices.

Servants were still cleaning corridors.

Meanwhile, somewhere in Arven Manor, men disappeared during the night and a Duke slowly lost his mind under the control of something monstrous.

Elizabeth finally stood up.

"There’s another issue."

Damon looked at her.

"What?"

"The people."

Cherry grimaced.

"That usually means trouble."

Elizabeth ignored her.

"If the situation explodes inside the mansion, rumors will spread immediately."

"Natural," Damon replied.

"No. Dangerous." She walked slowly to the city map. "Arven has been living under economic strain for months. If rumors of internal assassinations, forbidden magic, and succession conflict arise..."

"Panic," Ingrivid concluded.

Elizabeth nodded.

"And urban panic destroys governments."

Morgana crossed her arms.

"Then we control the information."

Elizabeth looked directly at her.

"That’s exactly what I intend to do."

Cherry smiled slowly.

"You speak of social manipulation with truly alarming comfort."

"Experience," Elizabeth replied.

"You are all deeply dangerous people."

"Also experience," Damon murmured.

Cedric watched everything with an increasingly impressed expression.

Finally he spoke:

"You were already planning this before I arrived."

No one answered immediately.

Because yes.

They were.

The truth hung in the room in silence.

Damon held the guard’s gaze.

"We are trying to save Arven."

Cedric looked slowly at Morgana.

Then at the maps.

Then at the names scattered across the table.

And finally nodded.

"Then tell me where to fight."

That altered something in the atmosphere.

Small.

But important.

Because for the first time, it stopped looking like just a desperate group improvising resistance.

Now it began to look like a real force.

Morgana slowly approached the central map.

Her voice was calm.

Cold.

Controlled.

"First we take the lower corridors."

Cherry smiled slightly again.

"Ah."

Elizabeth also approached.

"Then we isolate the main wing."

Cedric nodded.

"Including the guard access."

Ingrivid picked up a new blank sheet of paper.

"Evacuation routes for the servants."

Damon observed everyone around the table.

And then he realized.

No one was talking about "if" anymore.

Now they only talked about "how."

Because deep down everyone had already accepted the same truth.

The war for Arven could no longer be avoided.

And that night...

Arven Manor would finally begin to crumble from within.