Chapter 309: The Evil Witch Of Time
Hayley sighed, then adjusted herself and sat up, allowing Ethan to stand.
She followed him all the way, holding onto his left arm until they reached the garage. Only when he got into his car did she let go, watching as he drove off.
—
In a different part of the city...
Black vintage sedans arrived one after another at a secluded compound on the outskirts of Grayforte City.
The building itself was discreet. High walls surrounded it, with minimal lighting and just enough security to avoid drawing attention.
To any passerby, it would have looked like a government-owned facility.
One by one, the car doors opened. Elf family leaders stepped out, followed by members of parliament and several top-class CEOs. Men and women who held influence both politically and economically. Many of them had direct ties to King Carson’s administration.
There was no exchange of greetings beyond brief nods given that the nature of the summons had already made that unnecessary.
They were guided toward an entrance that led downward. A reinforced passage opened into an underground structure that resembled a bunker, built for private, high-level meetings.
They moved through it in silence until they reached a large chamber. At the center was a very long table, surrounded by arranged seats. The entire space carried the atmosphere of an executive war room.
A security attendant stood nearby and gestured politely. "Please, make yourselves comfortable."
They took their seats, some of them exchanging glances as the confusion began to surface.
A door at one end of the room opened, giving way to Lady Audrey Desdemona who stepped in with Anton and Esmeray following closely behind. A moment later, Hector entered as well, closing the space behind them.
The atmosphere tensed up almost instantly.
One of the leaders spoke up immediately. "What is this? Was this not supposed to be a meeting with the King?"
Audrey only smiled, then turned to the security attendant and gave a nod.
The man understood at once. He stepped out of the room and shut the heavy door behind him.
Now it was just them and Audrey who walked forward and took the head seat at the table.
"Yes," she began lightly, "I am sure some of you received your invitations either directly from the King himself... or through General Iroh, if I am correct."
That only made the tension worse.
Because it was true.
Within the last week, King Carson or the General had personally arrived their homes in a single car envoy, handing them those invitations. The King or the General had also instructed them that the meeting was to remain completely discreet, and that no one else was to know of it.
There had been no reason to doubt. If anything, it only reinforced how important the meeting must have been for the King or his general to invite them in person.
Audrey’s smile widened.
"Well," she continued, a trace of amusement slipping into her voice, "the one who delivered those invitations to you... was not exactly the King."
"What do you mean by that?" one of the leaders demanded, already pushing himself up from his seat.
Audrey did not answer him directly. Instead, she gestured calmly toward Hector, the member of the League of Assassins.
"Hector," she said, "please... show these men."
The lean man stepped forward and, without a word, used the Borrow skill to take on the shapeshifting ability of his summon, Morthorz.
In the next instant, his form began to change. His features, posture, and entire appearance warped until General Iroh stood in his place.
Not just the face, but the presence.
Even the way he carried himself. And when he spoke, it came out in Iroh’s exact voice.
Then, just as quickly, the form changed again.
Now, it was Carson standing before them in full regalia. He spoke once more, this time in the King’s exact tone.
The room fell from confusion into outright shock at what they were witnessing. Because this was not ordinary shapeshifting.
It did not feel like illusion magic either. If it were, at least a few of them, especially those among the elves who were highly attuned to energy, would have sensed the inconsistency immediately.
But there was none.
What stood before them felt real.
Hector’s summon, Morthorz, possessed a particularly rare form of transformation. One that had not been seen in a long time. It was not simply a change of face or structure.
It was near-perfect adaptation to the person being imitated.
Prior to the last week, Hector had already infiltrated the palace without anyone knowing. He had entered first as a guard, taking on different forms as he moved deeper into the castle.
Each transformation had been timed carefully, allowing him to remain unseen within the palace itself. He never lingered too long in one identity, yet always blended seamlessly into the next.
That was how he got close.
Because the closer Hector got to the individuals he intended to imitate, the more Morthorz adapted.
It began with the obvious. Features, posture, scars, the smallest irregularities in skin. Even uneven birthmarks and subtle imperfections he observed were replicated with exactness.
But that was not the most disturbing part.
If Hector remained in proximity long enough, Morthorz would begin to grasp the feel of a person’s magical presence.
Not their power itself, of course. He could not wield it. But he could mimic its impression and signature.
And once that was understood, Hector could reproduce it just enough to deceive.
Just enough that, to those who relied on sensing energy, the difference became indistinguishable.
To an observer, it was not simply that he looked like the King or General Iroh; It was that he felt like them. That was what made it impossible to question. No one suspects a presence their instincts already accept.
So when Hector stood there now, transforming flawlessly, it was not merely a display of ability. It was proof that every one of them had been deceived.
Although, of course, even that level of mimicry had its limits. He could not sustain their presence for too long, especially not that of someone in the Grand Class, like the King.
That was exactly why, even when Hector had taken on the King’s form, he had been deliberate in how he used it. He had never personally gone as Carson to invite the elven family leaders. It was far easier to maintain Iroh’s presence for longer than the King’s.
Instead, he reserved the King’s form for the CEOs and a select number of other figures present. Individuals who were less likely to detect fluctuations in his presence, even if he could not maintain the King’s signature for long.
—
Outside, just beyond the sealed door, the attendant who had stepped out gave a subtle signal to someone who whispered to another. Within moments, movement followed.
Figures emerged from the shadows; members of the League of Assassins. Lucien. Casper and a few others who had come along from Vanburgh.
The drivers who had brought the nobles and executives were dealt with quickly. Some were knocked out, and others were silenced for good.
Every witness outside was removed, leaving only the men inside the bunker.
—
Back in the chamber, realization began to settle.
Lord Ainzbern quickly reacted. His magic surged as he rose to his feet. "What is the meaning of this?" he demanded, in a voice carrying both anger and alarm.
Instead of giving him a reply, Audrey raised two fingers.
In the next instant, his body began to change.
His skin shriveled, collapsing inward as wrinkles carved across his face. His back bent, bones thinning as his form aged rapidly beyond recognition.
His robes hung loosely over a body that had become frail and brittle within seconds.
Audrey moved her fingers again and in the next instant the change reversed.
His body shrank, followed by limbed that shortened. He wanted to speak but his voice halted as he was forced downward into that of a child. The clothes he wore slipped off him entirely, pooling at his feet.
Gasps filled the room.
And then, with another casual flick of her hand, she restored him back to his original form.
Lord Ainzbern was whole now, but completely shaken to the core.
Audrey’s voice cut in with cold finality. "Sit the fuck down."
Lord Ainzbern felt his pride war with his sense of survival, but in the end he sat down.
She let the silence stretch for a moment, letting them understand their circumstance.
"My power can send any one of you into an early grave right now."
Her gaze moved across the table.
"I hope you all realize that very quickly, and shut the fuck up while I am speaking."
And just like that, the agitation in the room came to an instant halt.
She continued, a smile now returning to her face.
"The one advantage I have over every single one of you, is time."
"I have lived long enough to know everything about you."
Her gaze returned to Lord Ainzbern.
"You... Lord Ainzbern. Since you have made yourself known, tell me... are you aware that I know of the underground tunnels your family uses to store its real wealth?"
His expression flickered.
"Your gold," she continued, almost lazily. "Not the little you keep in your accounts. The actual wealth your family has protected for generations."
"Do you know... that it is no longer there?"
"That is impossible," he snapped immediately.
Audrey simply turned. "Anton," she said, "please... show him."
Anton stepped forward and snapped his fingers.
In the space above the table, several gold bars materialized and dropped heavily onto its surface.
The sound alone silenced the room again.
Audrey reached down, picked one up, and slid it across the table toward him.
"I believe these are yours."
She leaned back slightly, her tone almost inviting.
"Go on," she said. "Have a feel of it."
Lord Ainzbern did as he was told, and when he saw the gold bars, he noticed the peculiar mark of his family engraved on each one.
——
A/N: Hector First Appeared In Chapter 124 & 125. Attached to this text is an Image of He and his summon from that time
