Location: Golden Lotus Lounge, Inner City Estate
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The room was thick with smoke and tension.
Nine of the ten richest nobles in the Blackwood Empire sat in silence—glasses untouched, voices low, stares sharp. The golden lounge, usually filled with laughter and high-class sarcasm, had transformed into a battlefield without swords.
And at the center of the storm sat Cardinal Marcus Blackwood.
He didn't sip his wine. Didn't lean back. He just watched them all, calm as ever.
Lord Terrance was the first to speak, slamming his goblet down.
"Thirty percent, Marcus? Are you insane?!"
Dame Viera cut in sharply. "You've sentenced us all with that one statement. Do you realize what you've done?"
"Oh, I know exactly what I've done," Marcus replied evenly. "I've stayed alive."
Duke Remiel, oil tycoon and arrogant by default, stood up, pacing. "You betrayed your class. You signaled to him that we can afford to bleed. Now we're all bleeding!"
"Betrayed?" Marcus tilted his head. "I honored the reality. You think groveling with 8% was noble? He saw right through you. He would've raised it regardless. I gave him a number that made me look loyal. You gave him numbers that made you look greedy."
Silence. No one liked that he had a point.
Dame Viera crossed her legs. "You're smart, but you've made yourself the most hated man in this room."
"Not the first time," Marcus smirked.
Viscount Ellan, younger and quieter, finally muttered, "We should've presented a united front. At least then, we might've negotiated a lesser cut."
Marcus leaned forward now, tone sharp.
"We don't negotiate with Gods. You all still think you're lords in your own right. But he stripped you the moment you stepped into that palace. You're not nobility. You're custodians of privilege—because Chris Blackwood allows it."
The room simmered with uncomfortable truth.
Terrance spat, "Then why do you still wear your robe, priest? Preaching righteousness while you play survivalist."
Marcus stood slowly, eyes scanning each one of them.
"Because while you worship wealth, I understand power. And Chris doesn't reward wealth—he rewards loyalty. I didn't save you… I saved myself."
He walked past them without another word.
As the doors shut behind him, the nobles remained seated. Angry. Bitter. But undeniably afraid.
Because the man who said "30%" just reminded them who really understands the game—and it wasn't them.
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