Demonic Po*nstar System Chapter 733: Betrayal

Magnus Morvane was seated at his desk, palms pressed flat against the top, as the broadcast stream flickered across his interface.

His left hand shook uncontrollably.

Grace positioned herself on his right, arms folded behind her back. She glared at him with pure revulsion.

A knock echoed at his door. It repeated. Then came a third, desperate flurry, fists battering the wood.

"Guild Leader!!"

Magnus held off on replying right away. The feed gripped him tight, showing Alice Ashborn uttering his name—his birth name, the one he'd been made to reclaim—before millions watching.

'Magnus Morvane. Selena Morvane. Cassian Morvane. Calix Morvane.'

'They all tried to kill my brother.'

The knocking kept going.

"Come in," Magnus commanded.

The door burst open, and a man lurched inside.

Harlan, the guild's admin coordinator—a mid-forties lifelong paper-pusher who'd never stepped into Magnus's office unannounced. His complexion was ashen. He clutched a tablet with both hands like a ticking bomb.

"Guild Leader." His voice broke on the second syllable. "I'm sorry to barge in. Sir, we're facing a resignation crisis."

Magnus's gaze shifted to him.

The office air grew heavy. Magnus's hand slowly clenched into a fist on the desk, deliberate and restrained, unleashing mana pressure that made Harlan's tablet vibrate against his nails.

"Who," Magnus snarled, "dares to desert New Dawn in this critical moment?"

Harlan's mouth gaped open. Then shut. His throat bobbed uselessly.

"Speak. I demand the name."

"It's..." Harlan glanced at his tablet. His hands trembled so fiercely he had to press both palms flat to view the display. "It's not... just one."

"What?"

"The count when I stepped away from my station was forty-three." He gulped. "It's, uh." He checked the tablet once more. His face drained from gray to pale. "Forty-four. Forty-five." A beat. "Forty-seven, sir."

The office fell deathly silent.

Magnus fixed him with a stare so intense that Harlan's legs nearly gave out under the sheer mana weight. The man appeared ready to melt into the floor and teleport to another landmass.

"Forty-seven resignation notices," Magnus echoed.

"And rising, sir."

Magnus breathed out sharply through his nostrils.

His thoughts raced ahead, assessing the fallout, pinpointing the root. A mass exodus like this demanded planning, which pointed to a ringleader—a weak link masquerading as a flood. Locate the instigator, make a brutal example, and the followers would back down.

New Dawn commanded over fourteen thousand staff across its branches. Dozens quitting, even hundreds, stung the ego but not operations. He'd hunt down the orchestrator, crush their career, and remind everyone why departure carried too steep a price.

"Who are these traitors?" he demanded. "Rookies stirring up trouble?"

Harlan's expression betrayed the truth before his words did.

"No, sir. It's..." He swiped the tablet with a thumb slipping off the screen. "From all over. Entry-level admins, division chiefs, top analysts." His tone thinned further. "Elite awakened combatants too. Contract cancellations blending with plain resignations. I'm not certain on protocols—some arrive as official documents, others just—"

"Names," Magnus snapped, interrupting. "Hand over names."

Harlan scrolled. "Commander Voss of the eastern strike force. Senior Analyst Chen in threat eval. The full logistics leadership—four department heads—all filed at once. Councilwoman Fenn—"

"Fenn," Magnus echoed.

"Her notice hit eight minutes back. It was the trigger."

Of course. The very woman who'd confronted him in that meeting, demanding 'Where is Vespera?' as others skirted the issue. The one he'd ordered to stick to her role and her team. She'd stuck to her team, all right—by leading them straight out the door.

"Sir, Commander Voss commands three hundred frontline fighters. Losing him spells—"

"I know exactly what his exit implies." Magnus's tone was icy steel. "Notify every last one: resigning amid this guild shift demands six months' notice for vet combatants, ninety days for support roles plus full market equipment repurchase. No one exits New Dawn unscathed! That's the core of those contracts—now get to work."

Harlan stayed rooted.

He lingered in the threshold, tablet hugged to his chest, lips fumbling over words he dreaded voicing.

"Sir." His voice turned frail. "The contracts have an issue."

"The contracts fix this."

"They've been altered."

Magnus froze.

"What?!"

"Several on record show revised exit terms. Notice times slashed, some erased. Buyout fees dropped to pennies." He read from the tablet, avoiding Magnus's eyes. "A few Chronos in spots."

Those contracts were built to drag out departures, drain wallets, and inflict agony. Fair play for awakened fighters; guilds poured fortunes into them—years of training, gear, facilities—before they paid off. Locking down their deals was universal protocol.

That was the framework. That was the trap.

And someone had set fire to the locks.

"When," Magnus hissed through clenched teeth, "did these changes happen?"

Harlan scrolled. Sweat smeared his thumb on the glass. "Oldest tweak dates four years back."

The space seemed to shrink.

"Latest got approved six days prior to the divorce filing. Scattered over departments, renewal periods. All signed off by the co-guild leader."

Magnus's chair slammed the rear wall. He surged upright, desk groaning beneath his hands.

"There's worse, sir." Harlan resembled someone handing a lit explosive to a blazing inferno. "A mass payment alert from an outside source. Vespera Ashborn's private funds covering all leftover buyouts on those altered contracts."

He gulped hard.

"Including Alice Ashborn's service deal."

The ensuing quiet weighed so much that Grace's guards adjusted their stances.

Magnus glared at the mental feed, as if he could shatter it and seize the woman on the other side.

Four years. She'd shared strategy sessions, galas, reviews with him for four years. Scanned contracts at his side. Joined renewal talks. Managed the drudgery he ignored, trusting the system's strength and her loyalty to their shared empire.

Four years prior...

He pinpointed the exact day.

When their worthless son sank into gloom and fled to university.

His spouse had been eroding their grand venture from within ever since Kaiden abandoned their household.

"This is fraud!" Magnus's roar shook the room. "Malicious tampering of sacred contracts by a co-leader sabotaging the guild! Challenge every alteration in court! All of them!"

Harlan stayed mute.

"Fetch Hall and Byrne. File injunctions by day's close. Urgent stays on every tampered contract for court scrutiny."

"Sir." Harlan's whisper barely carried. "Mr. Hall's vacationing in Hawaii, unreachable. He's sharing beach pics with family but ignores calls and messages... Miss Byrne resigned and is now tweeting you're a... hold on."

He tapped the tablet, then recited: "A 'disgusting child-abusing egomaniac creep who must be eliminated for humanity's sake'... Fifth tweet in three minutes."

Magnus's jaw dropped. Silence followed.

"Get out," he ordered.

Harlan departed.

With teeth grinding, Magnus refocused on the stream.

Kaiden remained onscreen. Vespera still rested against him, eyes shut, faint enigmatic smile playing. Alice clung to his back.