Ch 30: Bringing down those at top

"Perceptive," he murmured, sitting up. "But then, you're no stranger to duality yourself, are you? Fifth Dark Lord."

Her eyes widened at the title, but Fenrir raised a hand before she could respond. "Don't worry. Your secret is safe with me—for now. I find it… advantageous to keep you unaware of the full extent of your nature."

Catherene bristled, her pride stinging at his casual manipulation. But she remained silent, watching him carefully.

"To put your mind at ease," Fenrir continued, his tone almost playful, "I am not your enemy. In fact, you might consider me an old friend—though far older and more powerful than you, of course."

His words hung in the air, their weight undeniable. Catherene straightened, suppressing her unease. "Then what is it you want, Fenrir?"

The smirk on his lips softened, replaced by an expression of feigned sincerity. "Something simple. For the next day, I need you to turn your attention elsewhere. Whatever I do, wherever I go—leave it be."

Catherene hesitated. Her instincts screamed against agreeing to such a vague demand, but the knowledge of his overwhelming power made her cautious. She nodded reluctantly. "Very well. I will grant your request. But know this—I will not be deceived indefinitely."

"I wouldn't dream of it," Fenrir replied, his smirk returning.

Catherene spent the day focused on her duties, forcing herself to ignore her curiosity about Fenrir's activities. As evening fell, however, word reached her that the vampire, the subject of so much recent turmoil, had been dealt with.

It was a quiet announcement, devoid of ceremony, yet it carried a weight that demanded attention. The vampire's imprisonment had been a source of contention within the temple, and now its resolution seemed too convenient.

Unable to ignore the gnawing doubt in her mind, Catherene made her way to the prison where the vampire had been held. The guards allowed her entry without question, their reverence for her unquestioning.

The cell was cold and empty, its walls bearing the faint traces of ancient blood magic. Catherene moved deeper inside, her senses attuned to the faintest disturbances in the air.

Then she felt it—a lingering energy, faint but unmistakable. It was not the energy of a defeated vampire, but something else. Something alive.

Her fingers traced the air, pulling at the threads of magic left behind. The essence was familiar—too familiar. It was Rui's energy.

The realization hit her like a bolt of lightning. Rui was alive, and Fenrir had orchestrated her escape. This was the reason he had asked for her blind eye, the purpose behind his cryptic request.

Catherene stood in the silence of the cell, her mind racing. Fenrir had used her, manipulated her divine reputation to shield his plans.

But the thought that lingered most was not anger—it was curiosity. What game was he playing, and how far would he go to achieve his goals?

As she returned to the temple, Catherene couldn't shake the nagging feeling that she was now a piece in a larger game—one that Fenrir had been playing long before her time.

Though her pride demanded retribution for his manipulation, a small part of her was intrigued. Perhaps, she thought, his goals and hers were not so different after all.

But for now, she resolved to wait and watch, to learn more before making her move. Whatever Fenrir's plans, Catherene knew one thing for certain: he was a force unlike any other, and their paths were irrevocably intertwined.

______

The city of New Portland basked in the golden glow of a new age. Streets were cleaner, marketplaces bustled with activity, and the faces of commoners bore smiles once dulled by years of oppressive rule. 

With Mary Ann and Fenrir taking the reins as regional leaders, an air of hope settled over the populace. Taxes had been reduced, healthcare and other public services were accessible to all, and the stark divide between classes seemed to be narrowing.

To the people, it was utopia.

However, beneath this surface harmony lay the murmur of discontent. Whispers of rebellion stirred in the alleys and dimly lit taverns. 

The prosperity promised by Mary Ann's leadership was not without its victims. Those who operated in the shadows—smugglers, black-market dealers, and purveyors of other illicit trades—found themselves under relentless scrutiny.

Mary Ann's administration, though generous to the lawful, was ruthless against the lawless. Under Fenrir's guidance, establishments operating outside legal bounds were systematically dismantled. Warehouses were raided, assets seized, and proprietors imprisoned.

For Rainder Perry, the wealthy owner of the largest underground network in the region, this was intolerable. His empire of secret clubs, gambling dens, and black-market goods was shrinking with each passing day. The government's crackdown was more than an inconvenience—it was a direct threat to his livelihood.

Rainder Perry gathered his allies in the underground world, a cabal of business owners who had grown fat on the inefficiencies of the previous regime. Seated in the luxurious private lounge of one of his establishments, Rainder addressed the group.

"Mary Ann and her lapdog Fenrir may have the people fooled," he said, his voice smooth and persuasive, "but we see through their facade."

A round of murmurs and nods followed his words.

"Low taxes, free healthcare, public amenities—these are nothing but breadcrumbs to keep the masses compliant. They lure them in with honey, only to turn the knife when no one's looking. Mark my words, this is nothing more than a ploy to consolidate their power and bleed us dry."

One of his associates, a man named Klyne, leaned forward. "If the people are so blinded by their promises, how do we make them see the truth?"

Rainder smiled, his eyes gleaming with cunning. "We give them proof. The third district has already seen a tax increase—1% to 2%. It's a small change, but it sets a precedent. We spread the word: today, it's 2%. Tomorrow, it's 5%. By the end of the year, they'll be paying triple what they are now."

"But is it true?" a woman at the table asked skeptically.

"Truth is irrelevant," Rainder replied coldly. "Perception is what matters. The people must believe Mary Ann is exploiting them. Once doubt sets in, it will fester like a disease."

______

The rumors began subtly, whispered in markets and shared over drinks in taverns. "Did you hear about the third district? Taxes went up already. She promised us relief, but it was all a lie."

"What if it happens here?" another voice would add. "They say Fenrir is behind it—he's the real power pulling the strings."

The whispers spread like wildfire. Even in districts unaffected by the changes, people began to wonder. Could it be true? Could the leaders they'd trusted be setting them up for betrayal?

The timing of the rumors was impeccable. Within days, Rainder's agents ensured pamphlets filled with inflammatory rhetoric circulated among the people. Some featured exaggerated graphs showing exponential tax increases. Others painted Mary Ann as a cunning tyrant and Fenrir as her sinister enforcer.

In her office, Mary Ann sat at her desk, poring over reports of unrest in the third district. Fenrir stood nearby, his golden eyes scanning a separate set of documents.

"This is deliberate," Fenrir said, his tone calm but resolute. "Someone is feeding these rumors to destabilize us."

Mary Ann nodded, frustration etched on her face. "The tax adjustment in the third district was necessary. Their revenue doesn't meet the demand for public services—we needed to balance the scales."

"Necessary or not, it's given our enemies ammunition," Fenrir replied. "They'll use this to undermine the trust we've built."

Mary Ann leaned back, closing her eyes. "What do you suggest?"

Fenrir smirked faintly. "Rumors are best fought with facts. But facts alone won't silence the voices in the shadows. We need to strike at the source."

"You mean Perry."

"Yes," Fenrir confirmed. "He's the spider at the center of this web. We remove him, and the rebellion loses its heart."

While Mary Ann and Fenrir strategized, the unrest continued to grow. In the streets, protestors began to gather, their voices rising in anger against the perceived betrayal.

"Keep your promises, Mary Ann!" they shouted. "No more hidden taxes!"

Fenrir observed the protests from a distance, his expression unreadable. Rui stood beside him, her ash-gray skin concealed beneath a thick cloak.

"They're fools," Rui muttered. "They don't see the bigger picture."