Revenge: A Path of Destruction
Chapter 50: Thutmose Geb (2)

Chapter 50: Thutmose Geb (2)

Thutmose’s steps echoed against the polished stone floor, each footfall crisp and deliberate. The grand halls of the Earth Clan’s estate were vast, lined with towering pillars etched with the legacy of generations past.

Shadows danced along the walls as the mana torches flickered, their glow never quite reaching the vaulted ceilings. Yet despite the grandeur, his mind was far from the architectural marvel surrounding him. He was already dissecting every angle of the situation.

The Patrician was leaving.

That alone was rare. Rarer still was the trust placed upon him—the heir—to govern in the Patrician’s absence. It was an honor, but it was also a challenge.

Despite his status, his position had never been without opposition. The First Wife of the Patrician, Lady Nandi, had spent years solidifying her influence, weaving a network of support for her children—the firstborn son, whose birthright granted him a traditional claim, and the eldest daughter, whose sharp intellect and political cunning made her a formidable force within the clan’s inner circle.

But in the end, none of that mattered.

Not when he had outshined them both.

His strength, talent, and sheer potential had made him undeniable. His rise had not been due to favoritism—it had been merit. He had earned this.

And yet, the First Wife had never been one to sit idly by. Even after he had been named heir, she continued maneuvering in the shadows, rallying her supporters, preparing for the moment he would falter.

Now, with his father gone, the battlefield had shifted.

This was no longer about proving himself. This was about securing his rule beyond question.

A movement ahead pulled him from his thoughts.

A woman stepped into his path, moving with a fluid precision that spoke of discipline and lethality. She was dressed in the dark, pressed fabric of the clan’s elite attendants—high-collared, flawless. But beneath that composed exterior lay something far deadlier.

Her long black hair cascaded over her shoulders like silk, framing a face of sharp angles and flawless poise. But her eyes held his attention—pitch-black, cold, and unreadable. Observant. Calculating.

She was an attendant of his.

Unlike ordinary servants, those assigned to the main family were trained from birth. They were not mere attendants—they were weapons. Each was a Master-ranked warrior at minimum, conditioned to be both protector and executioner for their designated master.

She stepped beside him without a word, matching his pace as they passed the towering pillars and the ever-glowing mana torches. The deeper they walked into the heart of the estate, the heavier the silence became, thick with unspoken tension.

She was the first to break the quiet when they reached the heavy wooden doors of his private chambers.

"My Lord."

With a graceful motion, she pushed the doors open and stepped inside, waiting until he followed before shutting them with a quiet click.

The veil of formality dropped the moment they were alone.

He exhaled, rolling his shoulders before turning to her. "It looks like my authority within the clan will soon be solidified."

She raised an eyebrow. "Your father spoke to you?"

He nodded. "He’s leaving and taking the Horus Swift to track the missing Legend-rank beasts. It was not news for those in the main family that a new Legend-rank beast had emerged, as almost all Grandmaster-ranked beings in the continent felt its presence."

Even though the Earth Clan couldn’t control the news about the beast tide, they had managed to suppress all mention of the new Legend-rank beast from reaching outside ears.

"In the meantime, the clan is under my control."

A flicker of intrigue crossed her face—subtle, but present.

Arms crossed, she tilted her head slightly. "Lady Nandi will not sit still."

"She never does." His voice was calm, yet edged with steel.

She had been a thorn in his side for years, laying the groundwork for her children’s rise. This was his moment—an opening he wouldn’t waste. Even now, he could picture her next moves: the hushed meetings, the whispered negotiations with certain elders, the careful attempts to sway opinion in the clan’s court.

"She will use this period to show how unfit you are," the attendant noted. "She will push to see how far she can go while the Patrician is away."

He scoffed. "Then let her."

A smirk tugged at his lips as he stepped toward the window, fingers tracing the edge of his ornate desk. His thoughts sharpened like a blade.

This was his chance.

Not to prove himself—he had already done that.

This ensured that when the dust settled, there would be no doubt about who ruled.

The game had begun.

And he had no intention of losing.

....

A woman sat stiffly on a velvet chaise across the estate, inside one of the main mansion’s most luxurious chambers. The delicate porcelain teacup in her hand trembled slightly, not from weakness, but from barely restrained fury.

The rich scent of floral tea filled the air, but she had long lost her appetite.

Her blue hair, cascading in soft waves down her back, framed a face that was the image of cold elegance—except for her eyes. Those icy blue irises, typically calm and unreadable, now burned with unfiltered rage.

Across from her, a maid stood stiffly, dressed in the pristine uniform of a personal attendant. But unlike ordinary servants, this one radiated an unmistakable presence. A Grandmaster-ranked warrior, trained not just to serve, but to guard, to kill.

However, she was neither a shield nor a blade at this moment.

She was the bearer of unwelcome news.

The woman placed the teacup down with deliberate slowness, the fine porcelain clicking against the saucer. "Say that again," she commanded, her voice deceptively smooth.

The maid lowered her head slightly. "It has been confirmed. In his absence, the Patrician has given Thutmose full authority over the clan."

A brittle crack echoed through the chamber.

The teacup shattered between her fingers.

For a long moment, the only sound was the soft tea dripping onto the carpet. She didn’t even glance at the mess. Instead, she clenched her fists, nails biting into her palm as she took a slow, steadying breath.

"Unbelievable," she murmured. But disbelief was far from the strongest emotion twisting through her.

The maid hesitated for only a moment before pressing forward. "My lady, I must inform you... some members of our faction are already showing signs of shifting their allegiance."

The woman’s head snapped up, her glare as sharp as a dagger. "What did you just say?"

’It hasn’t even been more than a few hours and those stupid Elders are already getting swayed,’ she thought.

The maid did not flinch despite the suffocating pressure of her mistress’s rage. "Until now, the Patrician has never publicly favored anyone. Even after naming Thutmose as heir, he did not outwardly support him. But now, with this act, many see it as proof of his choice."

A quiet scoff escaped the woman’s lips as she rose gracefully.

The long silken folds of her gown shimmered under the dim lighting as she moved toward the window, staring out at the vast estate that should have belonged to her children.

"So that’s how it is," she murmured, voice laced with venom. "The moment our dear Patrician makes a move, these fools flock to his side like brainless dogs."

She turned, her gaze dark with calculations.

"And where do our strongest supporters stand?"

The maid hesitated. "There are still many who remain loyal, but... some are waiting. They want to see how you respond, my lady."

A slow, bitter chuckle left the woman’s lips. "Then I suppose it’s time to remind them why I am not someone to be ignored."