"You were given a simple test of ruthlessness. You failed. Now, you face the final exam for which you are profoundly unprepared. I suggest you learn faster than you have ever learned anything, Ren Vaelthorn. Your newfound family makes for such excellent leverage."
The Soul Devourer's voice faded from Ren's mind, leaving a silence that was heavier than before. The god's final words—hung in the air, a poison none of them could smell but Ren.
A look of grim understanding passed between Martin and Charlotte.
"She's right. The Soul Devourer is a shadow. Jerald is the knife at our throat right now." He walked to the window, looking out at the deceptive peace of the estate. "We need a plan."
Charlotte let go of Ren, her face a portrait of a mother's worry. "He'll go after Liz won't he? She's the easiest target."
Liz?
Ren did not know what they were talking about but the tension was evident. His jaw ticked as he recalled his new little sister. That frightened fragile girl with blond hair so light it bordered white. A girl that sighed in relief just because he wasn't so close anymore.
I don't know what past Ren did to her. But since I'm here, I won't let it happen again. I won't let Jerald get his hands on her in anyway.
Ren understood one thing for sure from Natasha's comment and the Soul Devourer's warning, a big storm was coming and Jerald was its eye. And yet here he was, without a clue of what Jerald was capable of. However, his new family seemed to know what exactly they were dealing with. It didn't seem like the first time they were facing Jerald.
"Just who is Jerald?" Ren asked, trying to regain his calm.
"Jerald isn't just a noble. He's one of the wealthiest royals in the kingdom. His 'research institute' is a front. He's an information broker and a master of political sabotage."
Charlotte's hands were clasped tightly. "He controls interests in several major media hubs. The story won't be about your clever defense, Ren. It will be about made up scandals of our family. They will drag your father's and my name through the mud."
"He's also deeply connected to the merchant and artisan guilds," Martin added, turning back to face them. "He can pressure our allies. Anyone who does business with us will suddenly find their shipments delayed, their licenses under review, their loans called in. He won't attack us with a sword; he'll strangle us with paperwork and lost revenue."
Natasha crossed her arms. "And then there's his son, Nick. He's the blunt instrument. Runs with a pack of high-level cultivator brats. While Jerald ruins our name and finances, Nick will make our lives physically miserable. Harassment, vandalism, threats to our staff. Nothing we can easily prove, but enough to make us feel under siege."
Ren processed the torrent of information, his mind categorizing each threat. Media. Finance. Physical intimidation. It was a comprehensive corporate takedown strategy, just in a medieval-fantasy skin.
"The most likely first target," Charlotte said, her voice barely a whisper, "is Liz. She's the most vulnerable. A fabricated scandal at her academy... it would be the quickest, most painful way to wound us all. This isn't the first time Jerald's gone after us. The last time, your father was the reason for his attacks."
The air left Ren's lungs. Target a child. The thought was a cold knife in his gut. This wasn't just a business rival; this was a man with no bottom line.
He looked at the three of them—the weary prince, the frightened mother, the pragmatic warrior. They were outlining their own destruction, and their only plan so far was to endure it.
"So," Ren said, his voice quiet but cutting through the tension. "He'll launch a media war to destroy our name, an economic siege to bankrupt us, and employ thugs to harass us... all while targeting my little sister to break our spirit." He summed it up with a chilling clarity. "He won't come at me with a sword. He'll bury this entire family."
Silence fell. The picture was complete, and it was depressing.
Natasha pushed off the desk and stood directly in front of Ren. "From your story, this…. Soul Devourer set this up for a reason. He wanted Jerald dead. You didn't play along. So now, this is your mess."
She wasn't being cruel, merely factual. "The question is, what's your move? How does the man who outsmarted a king's court plan to stop Jerald from doing all that?"
The look in her eyes. She's angry, yes. But...she's also afraid. Jerald must have dragged them into a deep hole before and after a lot of hard work they got themselves back up. She's scared they have to go through it all over again.
Ren closed his eyes, and inhaled deeply, sorting through all the variables, reassessing the situation.
I may be weak physically in a world where everyone is an embodiment of a superhero in a child's comic book. But when it comes to navigating the waters of economics, political scandal, and corporate warfare... I am the leviathan they never saw coming. Last time I fell not because I wasn't capable but because I trusted too easily. This time, trust won't come as easy. With that out of the way, my abilities in the cooperate world are borderline god-like.
Martin was just about to tell Natasha to back off from her brother when Ren calmly opened his eyes and spoke.
"First," he said, his voice low and decisive, "I do not think his attention will be on any of you. If it's no secret my relationship with this family is bad, then he thinks I wouldn't care what happens to this family. Let's keep him thinking that way. I drew his wrath, so I will be his primary focus. And if he's petty, at worst he will go after Natasha. I have to keep my distance from this family. I leave tomorrow morning."
There was a change in everyone's expressions. They were so caught up in the unpleasant memory of their last face off to think things through. Ren was right.
Natasha stepped back and calmed down. Part of her was glad the situation was different this time but part of her felt off—satisfaction and concern at the same time.
She didn't want to feel any concern for Ren right now. She wasn't her parents who would have unconditional love for him no matter what he did. Him losing his memories wouldn't justify the wrongs he committed and mend their relationship like nothing happened. But her sensibility kept on getting in the way, telling her that maybe he deserved a little grace, that he was different now and he shouldn't have to be held accountable.
Charlotte and Martin were relieved but Ren's prediction raised another concern; "Ren your reputation is already in the gutters. He wouldn't bother trying to attack you through the media. You had no business relations. So he has no leverage against you in that field. That leaves stripping your royal allowance from you and then applying physical force. He'll send thugs to deal with you occasionally, make your life a living hell. Even with the help of your personal royal guard, you'll have quite some trouble. And you just lost all your cultivation level. How are you going to deal with that?" asked Charlotte, her voice laced with worry.
Ren smiled as two perfect tools landed in his lap.
Royal allowance. Royal guard.
Money and muscle. The basics. The allowance is my seed capital. The guard is my immediate physical security. Good.
His smile didn't fade; it turned sharper, more dangerous.
But Jerald is the real problem. He won't send assassins. He'll use the kingdom's own hatred for me as his weapon. He'll frame any move I make as proof of my corruption, my scheming.
I can't use public sympathy. I don't have any. So I won't try to be liked. I'll be… useful. Or better yet, I'll be a mirror.
The idea clicked into place.
I'll start a business so blatantly small, so painfully legitimate, and so utterly boring that it reflects Jerald's vengeance back onto him. If the most hated prince in the kingdom opens a humble shop aiming to benefit the community, and a powerful noble immediately tries to destroy it… what does that say? It doesn't make me look good. It makes him look paranoid, petty, and tyrannical. It turns his strength into a weakness.
He wants to fight the monster "Prince Ren." Fine. But I'll give him "Ren, the earnest shopkeeper." Let him explain to his allies why crushing a common shop is worth their political capital. Let him waste his influence on my little stall while I'm learning the rules of this new game.
Perfect. Phase one: become too small and too public to crush without making the crusher look like a fool. My reputation isn't a shield; it's bait.