Dark Lord in Chains 40 (Patreon)

Observing the Councilwoman Fernhand as she watched the other nobles leave with an absolutely smug expression on her face, controlling everything, reminded me of the time I was just a young ambitious mercenary with no background, trying just to survive while those smug members of the dark families looked down on me despite their limited capabilities. 

It took several years, but I had successfully taught them the cost of looking at me like that. 

And while Fernhand wasn’t wearing that expression directly toward me, funnily enough, it made that even worse. After all, she was smug enough to treat not just me, but also everything I had accomplished as a Dark Lord as nothing more than a detail to her plans. 

So, I decided to show her that discounting me from her plans was not the best idea. 

I didn’t burst in immediately, of course. First, I had slowly unraveled the remaining protections of the room, which was surprisingly easy. Most of the wards were about protecting the documents and tracking the thieves, not protecting the occupants. Reasonable, considering it was in the middle of the palace. 

Pity that it didn’t factor in an escaped prisoner Dark Lord with free access to the securest places in the Empire. Then, I didn’t bother changing my clothing before entering her office, using the main entrance. 

She looked up at the unannounced visitor, her face scrunched with disgust as an uninvited servant burst into her room. To her credit, Fernhand was smart enough to realize no servant just burst in with such confidence, and reacted with outward calmness. “Can I help you?” she asked, managing to hide her shock even as she activated an alarm ward, calling for guards. 

Too bad for her I had already disconnected it. 

I didn’t bother speaking as I closed the door behind me before I sat the chair across her, crossed my legs, and leaned back, like I owned the place. She looked at me, maintaining a surface calm, but the more her guards didn’t appear, the more she was starting to get stressed. 

Funnily enough, she didn’t seem to recognize me without my imposing armor set. We never had the pleasure of meeting, of course, but I would have expected them to circulate a drawing of me at least. Or maybe, she wasn’t able to connect the imposing figure wearing midnight black armor to one wearing servant clothes. 

She said nothing, waiting for the guards to arrive. I said nothing, waiting for her to either recognize me, or to realize the guards wouldn’t be arriving. 

She schooled her expression to an impassive wall, trying to act like she was calm, even as she sent a surface mental probe. I could have let it read a set of fake thoughts, or even tried to counter-attack through the connection, but instead, I just destroyed it, signaling that I was also experienced in mind magics, but without revealing my actual ability.

To her credit, she didn’t react other than giving a gentle nod, acknowledging my abilities and her own miscalculation, but otherwise stayed silent, testing my patience. After all, I was the one that burst into her room in the middle of the day, and the fact that I could wait for her to act meant that I was confident in my position. 

That was enough to force her into a passive position. 

It was almost at the two-minute mark that her eyes widened slightly as a hint of recognition wormed into her eyes. Still, considering the supposedly dead dark lord was sitting across her, limiting her reaction to that rather than shouting in panic was the proof of her ability to control her reactions. 

So was her first statement. A less capable person would have asked how it was possible for me to be alive, or what I wanted to do with them after sneaking into their room. She gave a simple statement. “She’s even smarter than I had thought.” 

“People can always surprise you,” I commented, fairly confident that she was talking about the Queen. “Especially if one relies on certain spies with more ambition than sense,” I said, acting arrogantly. After all, Dark Lords were known for their monologuing when they thought of themselves as superior. 

And just like that, every single information she managed to get from Emma was in suspect, including anything she might have been revealed about my imprisonment —whether she actually revealed my identity or not. To make things even better, it wouldn’t matter even if she had validated them through reading her mind, because it wouldn’t remove the possibility of arranging things just for that eventuality. 

She let out a desperate sigh as she spoke. “May I be privileged to learn how I can help such an esteemed guest, unless you’re planning to assassinate me.” 

Not bad, I thought. Other than the slight exaggeration, she managed to convey her fake desperation perfectly, and mentioning assassination explicitly despite being fairly sure that wasn’t the aim —she wouldn’t have seen me at all on that condition— meant that it was the best way to initiate the discussion. Highlighting her weakness, and hoping for my arrogance to reveal more than necessary. 

“Well, if you could kindly raise your hand and suppress your mana, I’ll give you a detailed explanation,” I said even as I grabbed the letter opener on her desk. She hesitated, which, admittedly was a smart thing to do. Letting a known Dark Lord draw blood was not the smartest thing to do.  

But it was easy to break her laziness. “Or we can go with the second option,” I said, which was enough for her to raise her hand. I had no intention of killing her, of course, and she clearly suspected that was the case. But suspecting and being sure was two different things, especially when 

It was the cost of their arrogance, I realized. The same tactic was nearly useless against anyone in the dark lands, because their personal fighting capabilities would be enough to create a commotion. Fernhand, on the other hand, was clearly a specialized expert in terms of magic, just like Sapphire, dedicating the rest of their time to politics. 

Considering their impressive rise despite their relatively modest beginnings —Sapphire was a simple concubine, and Fernhand was a minor noble— it was a good strategy. 

Too bad it left them completely helpless against facing someone like me, who had been forced to become an expert in a dozen things just to survive. 

It took Fernhand just five seconds under my sharp gaze to surrender and raise her hand. I used the letter opener to create a very small wound in her finger, and used that to cast a spell. A spell that took almost fifteen minutes to cast, owing to its complication, though more accurately, it was a curse. A curse of my own design, one that could be only unraveled by a number of people less than my fingers. 

“Done,” I said with a smile as I let the complicated mana patterns sink into her skin, not bothering to explain anything. She hid her tenseness with a surprising composure, giving me more and more credit. She waited silently for me to explain the spell I had just cast. 

“Just a simple spell to make sure you won’t be leaking secrets,” I said. “One touch of mana, and I won’t be worrying about future leaks, and before you start thinking about escaping far away, you should wait for my visit weekly, or a little time tracker I embedded in the spell will trigger,” I said. I didn’t go into details describing the spell effects, nor did I need to. Her imagination could handle that part better than anything else I could describe. After all, it was a spell that was cast by a dark lord with great difficulty. 

Reputation was a surprisingly useful currency in such circumstances.

Of course, there were a few reasons for me to cast that spell on Fernhand while I hadn’t bothered to cast them on others. The Queen and the princess were simply too high ranked, and could easily hire people to remove it without suspicion, nor that it was necessary in the first place. For Emma, the knowledge of her disastrous mistake as she tried to balance her status between Fernhand and the Queen was enough to keep her contained. 

It was the mistake most dark lords and aspiring dark lords made, applying more pressure than needed, preventing the development of any possible positive feelings. Even if I managed to control Aria with such a spell, for example, it would have been impossible for her to develop feelings toward me. 

Fernhand was a different issue, of course. Not only she was smart, but also I lacked leverage. Even for the Queen, her need for my cooperation was much greater than my need for hers, giving me a lot of angles to play. For my dear councilwoman, the only thing I could do was to threaten her explicitly before I could get a better understanding of her. 

“So, my dear, since that unpleasantness is behind us, let’s talk…” I started.

“Yes, let’s talk,” she said, once again calm. “How can I help my new lord, or should I just go and report to the Queen?” 

I chuckled, once again impressed with her attitude, trying to question me in the form of a subtle question. “A quick learner, I’m impressed,” I said. I wasn’t stupid enough to take her display of loyalty at face value, of course, but that didn’t mean I could. “But you’re under a bit of misconception. Sapphire and I are … friends … at the moment. But there’s nothing preventing me from making new friends, unless you prefer listening to your dear Queen, of course. If that’s the case, I can arrange a meeting.” 

It was a simple yet effective lie. My clear freedom in the palace grounds, combined with the news of my demise after a battle arranged by Sapphire created an erroneous picture that the battle was just for show, and I was a willing visitor at the palace. After all, the case of me being a prisoner yet escaping and having free access to the most secure place in the Empire of Light was too ridiculous to consider. 

“I would prefer the first case, of course,” she said, not even waiting for a second. After all, she was smart enough to realize that between me and Sapphire, who needed her more. Sapphire just needed her to stop for her faction to lose effectiveness. I could use her help to do some interesting things instead… 

Then, I was just trying to decide how to handle my new pawn, when she stood up and started unbuttoning her blouse, revealing a delicious alabaster skin underneath that contrasted with her black hair perfectly, showing great initiative. 

Of course, she was clearly using her sexuality as a deliberate weapon to distract me, but that didn’t make it any less fun. On the contrary, it would be a nice change of pace after the playful seduction I was conducting —which, while fun, not exactly my preferred way of progress. 

Maybe I would enjoy my new pawn even more than I expected. Now, all I needed to do was to decide the way to take her…