CLEAVER OF SIN Chapter 657: Vandross Empire Move

Yet, folks have a tendency to overlook a vital detail—or more precisely, swayed by the knowledge they possessed and their innate urge to fault the most accessible and obvious target, none other than Emperor Zolthemir Lux Vanthelmor—they dismissed the faint chance that, just maybe, the Emperor wasn't the actual perpetrator of this vast and pervasive Mind Manipulation.

In truth, within an Empire harboring roughly twenty billion inhabitants, where over seventy percent counted as awakened beings, it defied logic that only the Emperor commanded a Mind Manipulation power. Without doubt, others must wield similar capabilities, perhaps varying in title but equivalent or closely alike in operation and outcome.

Indeed, the Emperor hadn't crossed paths with numerous manipulated souls, including maids and butlers serving in assorted noble manors. What manner of encounter, reason, or situation would bring them face-to-face with him? At heart, they were ordinary folk who might have caught a distant glimpse of the Emperor, if they'd glimpsed him once in their lifetimes. The majority stayed hemmed within the lands of their employing noble houses, venturing beyond those limits only on rare occasions, if ever.

Logic like this held no sway over the masses, who ignored such glaring flaws. No one grasped the precise mechanics of the Emperor’s Mind Manipulation ability. Suppose it didn't demand his physical presence? Suppose he ensnared Person A, who then swayed Person B, who influenced Person C, and onward, sparking a relentless chain like a zombie plague ravaging an apocalypse?

Naturally, solid evidence for this notion remained elusive, but amid the turmoil and frenzy, who demanded proof? In the public's conviction, the Emperor's guilt in this crime stood as irrefutable truth.

Suddenly, the Wargraves' assault on the Capital City made perfect sense. Placed in the Wargraves' shoes with their own monstrous might, the people would never tolerate such an outrage either. After all, nobody craved mental domination, where one's very thoughts and deeds could be seized away.

Even after detecting mind manipulation in their own estates, not one dared charge the Imperial Palace. They weren't Wargraves, after all, and the Imperial family's tolerance had surely frayed by now. A direct challenge might paint them as perfect outlets for the rage the Wargraves had evaded. Therefore... silently bearing this wrong proved wiser, their weakness compelling them to choke down their bitterness.

A shared sentiment rippled through their thoughts, prompting collective tongue-clicks of annoyance: "if only the Wargraves could be hired."

The most horrifying trait of this Mind Manipulation lay in how most victims operated like dormant sleeper agents, blissfully ignorant of their mental enslavement. To clarify, it mirrored a split personality affliction.

Upon activation of the embedded Mind Manipulation, total devotion to the implanted agenda took hold, with flawless execution of orders—mental control never dulled them into witless drones. Deactivation snapped them back to everyday existence, utterly blind to their compelled actions.

This feature rendered the Mind Manipulation all the more chilling. True, not all manipulated fell into this mold, but even a fraction exhibiting it sufficed to breed profound dread.

Still, the masses lumped it under yet another facet of the Emperor’s Mind Manipulation prowess.

Could the Emperor alone command such a power, infiltrating countless noble houses with terrifying precision? Something deeper lurked... another figure... or maybe a shadowy group exploiting the Emperor's plight as ideal camouflage to evade detection.

Certain whispers named them... "The Maddened," "The Consumed," or "The Corrupted."

Even if they were truly lurking in the shadows, exploiting the turmoil as cover for their schemes, they knew it was merely a question of time before astute observers detected that the Emperor’s Mind Manipulation differed fundamentally in essence. After all, folks weren’t idiots, and deceit could only endure briefly before fissures inevitably surfaced.

At present, they managed to deceive the aristocrats, thanks mostly to the nobles’ bolstered defenses and the presence of a ready-made scapegoat, perfectly positioned for blame.

Yet in the end, it made no difference. Once these nobles halted their endless scrutiny and reverted to their shrewd, scheming natures—perhaps in just a few days—“they” would have meticulously wiped away all signs of their presence, leaving even the mightiest experts clutching at thin air.

Then, right when the crisis appeared unable to worsen further, just as the disorder hit its zenith, fresh intelligence landed on the desks of nobles and high-ranking figures across the Zarethorn Empire.

Three Viscount houses and five Baron families had suffered assaults and teetered on the brink of total destruction.

The Vandross Empire, overlords of the eastern lands, sprang into action as if they’d been biding their moment. They timed their strike perfectly with Azaron’s entry onto the field of battle.

A joint offensive targeted these eight noble clans, aiming for their utter extermination in one ruthless sweep. Ultimately, though, the scheme collapsed, chiefly due to Emperor Cyrvexis Lux Vanthelmor’s direct involvement, which compelled Azaron and the Dukes to pull back to their domains. Consequently, Vandross troops had to fall back empty-handed.

With additional time, they could have fulfilled their goal: obliterating all eight houses completely. Though these nobles sat lower in the hierarchy, their noble status remained, and their demise would trigger major repercussions.

Without the prior Emperor’s meddling... the result was plain to see. Yet despite his action and the Vandross retreat, the grim truth persisted: millions perished in those eight territories.

One of those eight was the Rivelle Barony, which barely escaped wipeout. These folk had just weathered their yearly Monster Tide Invasion, only to plunge straight into fresh peril. Baron Rivelle came perilously close to losing his son amid the carnage.

Still, the Zarethorn Empire proved no pushover to forsake or breach. The Vandross infiltration demanded months of meticulous preparation; thus, they couldn’t just withdraw casually—it was never that straightforward.

Thus, this time around, Emperor Zolthemir Lux Vanthelmor—fresh from his loss to Azaron—spotted ideal outlets for his pent-up rage and bitterness.

Unlike his past habit of sending knights, he chased the Vandross invaders himself. Fueled by the fury sparked by his father’s counsel, he ravaged thousands of kilometers in hot pursuit.

His hands-on strike and the enemy’s slaughter gave the Capital a new distraction, at minimum allowing the Imperial house to reclaim a shred of prestige and mend some of their sullied reputation, however minor the gain.