Chapter 10: The Poisoned Feast

The shadow behind the ancient oak bookshelf was not even two feet wide, yet Tair pressed his back flat against the cold stone wall, holding his breath until his lungs burned.Veyran Kharvayn stepped into the center of the archive chamber, his heavy velvet cloak dragging across the stones. Beside him, the Great Heir paced with tense, rapid steps, holding a thick leather scroll case in his hand."Are you certain the unranked group won't resist?" Veyran Kharvayn asked, his voice smooth, resonant, and completely devoid of guilt."Karyen was the only one strong enough to cause trouble," the Heir replied, a cruel smile touching his lips. "And after that little 'accident' in the lower armory today, he's lying in the infirmary with a broken arm. Tomorrow evening, all forty unranked recruits will be gathered in the banquet hall under the guise of the 'Founder's Victory Feast.'"Veyran Kharvayn walked toward his blackwood desk, his fingers passing near the hidden compartment where the surrender contract lay. He did not check the latch; his sheer confidence as an Upper-Level Cultivator had blinded him to the possibility that an unranked cripple was standing five steps away in the darkness."The alchemical formula from the western border," Veyran Kharvayn murmured, pouring himself a glass of wine from a silver decanter. "Is it ready?""Sarkis delivered the drug-root extract this morning," the Heir said, bowing his head slightly. "A few drops in the spiced wine during the feast will paralyze their Essence channels within minutes. By the time Commander Kael seals the iron grates and fills the vault with charcoal smoke, they won't even be able to scream.""Good," Veyran Kharvayn said calmly, taking a sip of his wine. "There will be no blood on the floor, no messy corpses. Clean, efficient, and irreversible. Once the rabble are gone, we'll hand the outer walls over to the Pioneers at noon the following day."The two leaders continued speaking for several more minutes, finalizing the details of the massacre with the casual indifference of livestock merchants arranging a sale. Then the heavy oak doors closed behind them, and the iron lock clicked shut from the outside.This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source.Tair remained motionless for three long minutes. He waited until the footsteps had completely disappeared down the spiral staircase.Then he stepped out of the shadows, dragging his dead leg across the carpet.20 Hours.The timeline had accelerated. He no longer had three days.The "Founder's Victory Feast" was scheduled for tomorrow evening at dusk. If he waited until the wine was poured, every unranked recruit in the fortress would be paralyzed in the darkness and suffocated.He limped back toward the window overlooking the inner courtyard. Below, torches flickered in the night wind. The recruits sat beside the barracks fires, laughing and sharing stories, completely unaware that the wine for their funeral feast had already been spiced in the kitchens.Tair raised his functioning left hand toward the translucent obsidian-red system window floating in his vision:[ASTRA // NEURAL STRAIN CRITICAL: 78%]Current Cycle: 2Time Until Feast: 19 Hours, 45 MinutesActive Restrictions:• Structural Motor Skill Loss (Right Side)• Vocal Cord Damage (Mute)[ASTRA // TACTICAL REALITY]• You cannot defeat Veyran Kharvayn in combat.• You cannot convince the recruits with words.• You cannot prevent the Heir from poisoning the wine.A low, dry rasp escaped Tair's ruined throat.He did not need to stop the poison. He did not need to save the leaders. He did not even need the recruits to believe him.He had Sarkis's Flash Powder, naphtha oil, and the key to the Great Grain Silos.If Veyran Kharvayn wanted a feast, Tair would give him a spectacle that would carve the Kharvayn name into the ashes of history."Tomorrow night..." Tair said; his whisper was a breathless, dreadful hiss that dissolved into the empty archive. "...We will all eat together."