They weren't natural shadows—they were entities, creatures of living darkness that served Klinet as advisors and enforcers. They emerged from the corners of the room, taking vaguely humanoid forms but remaining indistinct, their features impossible to focus on clearly.
One figure was different from the others, though. It was massive—built like a tank, easily eight feet tall and proportionally broad. Its body was covered in dark spikes that protruded at various angles, making it look almost like a tortoise crossed with a porcupine. Its eyes glowed with steady red light, and when it moved, the spikes scraped against each other with a sound like metal on stone.
This was Thornback, Klinet's personal bodyguard and enforcer. A creature summoned from the shadow realm decades ago and bound to serve the Dark Reaper throne.
One of the smaller shadow figures spoke, its voice whispering like wind through dead leaves: "It's maybe a side effect of killing the Altar of Evil near the town. When such a powerful entity is destroyed, its death releases corruption into the surrounding area. The plague could be that corruption manifesting in the mortal realm."
Another shadow chimed in: "But didn't his own son kill his father and become the next Altar? That's what the reports say. Aster Thornwood murdered his father and inherited the curse."
Klinet's smile widened at that. "Did he now? How very interesting."
A third shadow continued the analysis: "If that's the case, then the boy is now one of the most powerful dark entities in the kingdom. The Altar of Evil is not just a title—it's a conduit, a living gateway between the mortal realm and the deeper darkness beyond. Whoever holds that position commands tremendous power."
"We could potentially recruit the young boy," the second shadow suggested. "Turn him to our purposes. With the Altar under our influence, we could—"
A magical projection suddenly flickered to life in the center of the room—a viewing window showing a distant location. The image was cloudy and indistinct, but the figures visible were clear enough: a stone building in a forest, disciples in yellow robes moving about their duties, and among them, a young man in similar robes with a crown on his head and a dark sword on his back.
Aster Thornwood. At the Church of the Evil Sage.
"I wonder why he felt the need to enter the Church of the Evil Sage," one of the shadows mused. "That's... unexpected. The Altar seeking knowledge from the Sage? What could he possibly need to learn?"
"We cannot approach him there," another shadow stated flatly. "The Church is protected by ancient wards and by the Sage's own attention. Any attempt to infiltrate or attack would be detected immediately and likely prove fatal. The Sage protects its devotees absolutely."
Klinet stood from his throne and walked closer to the projection, studying the image of Aster carefully. His expression was thoughtful, calculating.
"Then we cannot recruit him directly," he said slowly. "At least not yet. But we can do something else. We can create conditions that will drive him toward us. Make him desperate. Make him angry. Make him so consumed by his situation that when we do finally approach him, he'll have nowhere else to turn."
He turned to face his shadow advisors.
"We will cause more chaos in the White Dragon Kingdom," Klinet declared. "Not just opportunistic raids on trade routes, but systematic disruption. Attack their supply lines. Sabotage their infrastructure. Spread rumors that increase the panic. Make the plague seem even worse than it is. Turn the population against their government. Create absolute disorder."
He smiled coldly. "And when the kingdom is on the verge of complete collapse, when young Aster Thornwood emerges from the Church with whatever knowledge he seeks, he'll find a world in ruins. A world where the old order has failed. A world desperate for someone strong enough to take control and restore stability through power rather than outdated ideals."
"And that's where we'll be waiting," Klinet continued. "Offering him an alliance. Offering him resources. Offering him a place in the new order we're building. He'll join us willingly because he'll have no other choice."
Thornback, the massive spiked creature, stepped forward slightly. Its voice was deep and grinding, like boulders scraping together: "I can do this work. I can lead the operations against the White Dragon Kingdom. I will bring them to their knees."
Klinet regarded his enforcer with approval. "Yes. You will take command of our special operations forces. Coordinate with our agents already embedded in the kingdom. Make them suffer. Make them bleed. But remember—" his voice took on a warning edge, "—we want to weaken them, not destroy them completely. A completely destroyed kingdom is useless to us. We need them to survive, but barely. We need them to be desperate enough to accept any help offered, even from us."
"I understand, my God," Thornback rumbled, bowing its massive head.
"Good." Klinet returned to his throne and settled back into his characteristic pose. "Begin the operations immediately. And keep close watch on the boy at the Church. The moment he leaves that protection, I want to know. The moment he shows any sign of being receptive to our approach, we move."
The shadow advisors murmured their acknowledgment and began to fade back into the darkness from which they'd emerged.
Thornback remained a moment longer. "And if the boy proves... resistant? If he refuses to join us even when desperate?"
Klinet's smile turned cruel. "Then we'll have to remove him from the equation. The Altar's power can be transferred to another host if the current one is eliminated. We have candidates already selected—people with the right combination of darkness in their souls and weakness in their wills. People we can control."
"But one way or another," Klinet concluded, his eyes glinting with ambition and malice, "the power of the Altar will serve our purposes. The White Dragon Kingdom will fall. And the Dark Reaper Kingdom will rise to take its rightful place as the dominant force in this world."
Thornback bowed again and then departed, its heavy footsteps echoing through the throne room as it went to begin its assigned tasks.
Klinet sat alone on his obsidian throne, surrounded by bats and shadows, and allowed himself a moment of genuine satisfaction.
Everything was falling into place. The pieces were moving exactly as he'd anticipated. The old world order—the divine peace that had lasted for centuries—was crumbling at last.
And from its ruins, a new order would emerge. An order based not on outdated ideals of mercy and justice, but on the fundamental truth that power determined all outcomes.
The strong would rule. The weak would serve. And morality would be revealed as the fiction it had always been.
"Let them call me evil," Klinet murmured to himself, his voice barely audible in the vast empty chamber. "Let them condemn my methods and my alliances. In the end, when I'm standing atop the ruins of their 'civilized' world, they'll understand that evil was simply the word the weak used for strength they couldn't match."
He closed his eyes and allowed himself to imagine it: the White Dragon Kingdom in ashes. The other kingdoms falling in line through fear or alliance. The entire world reshaped according to his vision.
It was a beautiful dream.
And it was so very close to becoming reality.