The Kind of Evil

Chapter 606 - 606: One after another.

Rasmus glanced at the window and noticed the two moons outside, he didn't expect Zechariah would stay and have a tea with him this long. He already had everything he needed to know about the man that controlled the flow of the continent. The war that was happening and what Zechariah had planned from both sides, Rasmus already knew. However, there was one thing that he found it surprising about Zecharia, and that was when Zechariah willingly shared crucial information with him."What do you want to gain from all the information you gave me, Your Grace?" Rasmus asked. The conversation had bloomed where guessing was no longer necessary, but transparency was.

"Every generation when the Asghar succession happens, the leashes are loosened. It's not a surprise that many will break free from the chains. Unfortunately, out of all time, this year will be the year where the succession happens," Zechariah answered and took a sip of the tea.

"The war that you initiated. You knew you might not be able to control the outcome because the leashes aren't yours to hold anymore because your children are trying to prove that they can take your role," Rasmus nodded with understanding. "It's highly possible that both sides will take control over your children instead. They're greenhorn after all," he pointed out.

"They imitated my strategies even though their power and authority aren't the same as mine. They're bound to fail," Zechariah glanced at Natia who had been lying on the couch beside him, listening to the hours of conversation between him and Rasmus. "You know that already, and that's why I'm giving you all that information willingly."

"But not Anastasha because I'm on her side. You're giving me free information with the intention of keeping those people underneath your family. In the end, you lose nothing from this," Rasmus crossed his arms and stared at Zechariah with an impassive expression. "But you should know that she's going to burn this family down and rebuild it from nothing. You believe she can do it?" He asked with his brows slightly raised.

"Rather than believing in her ability, you have proven yours," Zechariah stared back at Rasmus. "You keep the powerhouse alive, and use them to rule over the continent. Central Neva, you maintain the Angelis, the Suncrown, and the Magic Tower even after the great war. South Neva, you maintain the South Neva Union's power and make them the sole ruler and protector. West Neva, you were planning to do the same, but unfortunately, you gave the continent away. Even so, you let one power have control over the continent. I'm assuming, you're using my daughter for that same reason, and I know what you're capable of," he pointed out with an impassive expression.

Rasmus smiled when Zechariah said that he was using Anastasha. Although it wasn't wrong, it wasn't right either, and yet he didn't care to correct Zechariah's way of seeing his relationship with Anastasha. He then glanced at the ceiling when he felt a presence coming toward them.

"This is the end of our conversation, Count Blackheart," Zechariah said as he slowly got up from the couch, and then Natia stood up not long after.

Rasmus nodded with understanding as he slowly got up and fixed his suit. He watched Zechariah and Natia leave the parlor, he then glanced at the ceiling, noticing the presence had disappeared. He wondered how strong Zechariah was since Zechariah was also a half-breed like him.

Natia walked behind Zechariah without saying a word, her eyes were closed all the way downstairs and at the front of the main entrance. She flicked her hand and the door slowly opened on its own, but when she thought Zechariah would leave her castle immediately, she was confused when he stood still even though the door was wide open.

"Walk with me," Zechariah said as he took a step out of the castle.

Natia smiled softly and followed Zechariah once again, leaving the castle that had become her nest, her hiding place, and her sanctuary.

"When was the last time you had a long conversation with someone, Your Grace? Spending a whole day, conversing with a stranger," Natia asked as she felt dozens of Zechariah's assassins following them from a distance.

"It has been a while since the last time I hear you being talkative," Zechariah responded and stared at the sky as he walked in the middle of the road toward the peak of the mountain where his palace was. "If I have to recall, I have never wasted a whole day like this," he answered.

"Wasted? So he's not someone to your liking?" Natia stared at Zechariah's back with her slit pupils that glowed in the night sky. "I found him interesting, it's like seeing the old you, Your Grace. Perhaps he's even dangerous and more interesting than your younger self," she narrowed her eyes, almost mischievously.

"No, it's quite the opposite. I enjoyed it, but it was meaningless for a leader, for a patriarch that requires more power and authority to maintain his position. I could put a leash or two to a powerful figure in a day, but I got none here," Zechariah answered and saw the carriage coming toward him.

"You have always been true to yourself, Zechariah. About power and desire. But..." Natia paused as she watched the carriage. "Why does it feel like you have become something other than yourself?" She asked as she stopped following Zechariah.

Zechariah stopped walking as soon as the carriage stopped in front of him. His eyes were fixated on the carriage door while the coachman opened the door for him and waited for him to walk in.

"I have changed," Zechariah answered as he walked into the carriage. When the coachman wanted to close the door, Zechariah stopped him. "The man you saw back then, he's gone," he stared at Natia, who was staring at the distance with an impassive expression and cold gaze.

"He's not gone," Natia smiled as she slowly turned her head to look into Zechariah's eyes. "I just saw him, in the parlor," she responded as she took a few steps back from the carriage. "Have a good evening, Your Grace," she lowered her head slightly and listened to the carriage door closing in front of her.

Zechariah arrived at his palace and immediately a dozen palace guards welcomed him as soon as he walked out of the carriage. He went straight into the palace with all the guards following him from behind. There was only one reason why the guards were following him even after he entered the palace, and that meant there was a guest that could be counted as extremely dangerous and had authority to enter the palace without his permission.

"Where is he?" Zechariah asked Safir, the commander of all the soldiers in the city.

"It your office, Your Grace," Safir answered as he walked right behind Zechariah.

"All of you are dismissed. I'll be fine on my own," Zechariah said as he removed his coat. Safir immediately took the coat off and stopped following Zechariah. "Send everyone away from the palace," he glanced over his shoulder at Safir.

"Yes, Your Grace," Safir bowed his head and then turned around, ordering the guards to bring everyone in the palace out of the building.

Zechariah stood in front of the door into his office. He could feel the air around him thinning out, but he suppressed the pressure with his Mana. Once he knew there was nobody inside the palace other than him and the person in his office, he slowly opened the door.

The first thing he saw was an old man standing next to the chair, wearing a black coat that hid the black armor underneath. The old man wore an eye-patch that covered his left eye with a long scar from his forehead and down through his left eye to his jaw.

"Sit," the old man pointed at the chair. "There's no time for formality," he said before Zechariah could say a word.

"It has been a while, father. The last time I heard, you went to that place," Zechariah said as he walked toward his desk and sat on the chair. "I thought you said you would never set your foot on this mountain again," he looked up at the old man.

"And you should know what that means," the old man stared down at Zechariah. "The Land of Great Spirits is in danger, something powerful is coming," he warned.

Zechariah furrowed his brows, and the first thing that came into his mind was what Rasmus said about those beings. He didn't want to believe something like an omen, but after gathering enough information about Rasmus, he saw Rasmus as a bad omen because he brought chaos to wherever he went.

"Please tell me the detail, father," Zechariah said with a serious expression.