Chapter 43: The Plan

The Obsidian Basilica stood cloaked in eternal night, its obsidian walls shimmering under the glow of silver crystal lanterns. Moonlight poured through the open ceiling, bathing the massive throne at the hall’s center in a radiant sheen. Lunareio sat upon the blackened metal seat, its silver veins pulsing like liquid starlight, his dark blue robes with golden and silver embroidery glinting faintly. His silky white hair spilled over his shoulders, and his hooded gaze, cosmic blue eyes gleaming beneath, surveyed the seven figures of Cult Luminous before him. To his right stood Lilith, her curly purple hair framing her blindfolded face, her dark blue and white attire clinging to her curves… as tight as ever.

Lunareio leaned forward, his echoing through the Lunarium. “We’re done lurking in the shadows,” he declared. “It’s time to reclaim the greatness we once knew. Noctis Sanctum is just the beginning—i wish to bring the Silver Radiance back to the world.”

The words ignited a spark among the group, but Lilith was practically trembling with excitement.

She leaned in close—too close—her voluptuous chest hovering dangerously near Lunareio’s face, her blindfold doing little to hide the fervent gleam in her aura.

Her voice was brimming with zeal. “My lord! Shall we conquer the kingdoms? Punish the heathens? Perform your miracles and let all gaze upon your brilliance?” Her tail swayed eagerly, and she pressed even closer, her enthusiasm overwhelming.

Lunareio’s eyes widened slightly beneath his hood, and he raised a hand, a bit awkward. “Lilith, ease up a bit and give me some space,” he said, gently nudging her back. “I appreciate the passion, but let’s not get ahead of ourselves.”

Dazmar let out a hearty chuckle, with a sly grin. He stepped forward, his deep blue coat swishing as he ran a hand through his hair.

“Give our lord some room to breathe, Lilith,” he teased, then turned to Lunareio, his dark eyes gleaming with ambition. “So, my lord, if this is your wish I believe the first step will be a temple. And if it’s a temple you want, I can buy the biggest plot of land on the continent… No… Forget a plot—I’ll buy you a whole nation, if you like!”

Before Lunareio could respond, Branna piped up, her wild orange hair bouncing as she grinned broadly, her amber eyes sparkling. Her small wine bottle clinked at her hip as she clapped her hands together.

“Aye, and all the dwarves’ll handle the heavy liftin’! We’ll build that temple quick as a flash, my lord—grandest thing you ever saw!”

Lunareio blinked, caught off guard by the intensity of their fervor, his hooded gaze flickering between them.

He raised a hand, his voice calm but authoritative.

“Alright, everyone, calm down,” he said, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips. “I’m grateful for your enthusiasm, but let’s take this one step at a time, but let’s do one thing at a time.” His gaze then settled on Vellrek who stood with arms crossed, his crimson eyes sharp and his noble attire exuding quiet intensity.

“Vellrek,” Lunareio called, his tone shifting to one of curiosity, “what about that human I had Gregor bring you? Have you gotten anything on this ’council’ he mentioned?”

Vellrek’s expression tightened briefly, a flicker of frustration crossing his pale face before he bowed his head, placing a fist over his chest.

“My lord,” he said, “the human—Veyrn—is proving difficult. His mind’s wrapped in strange enchantments I haven’t seen in my long years, I’m still working to unravel. I’ve pulled some fragments, though: this ’council’ is a shadowy group with deep ties across kingdoms, aiming to disrupt the divine order. I’ll need more time to crack him fully and understand their core goals.”

Lunareio’s hooded gaze lingered on Vellrek, his expression unreadable, the moonlight above pulsing faintly as if mirroring his thoughts.

Lunareio’s gaze settled on Vellrek, “Vellrek, I expect results soon. This ’council’ cannot remain a mystery.”

Vellrek bowed his head, his crimson eyes flashing with determination, his noble attire crisp. “I won’t disappoint, my lord,” he said, his voice steady and resolute.

Lunareio nodded, leaning back on his throne, his fingers tapping lightly on the armrest. “Now, regarding the temple,” he began, his voice taking on a thoughtful edge. “I’m already making plans. One of the clans that served me centuries ago—has sent a fervent prayer for their people’s liberation. I’ve answered their call.”

Lilith tilted her head, her blindfold concealing her eyes but not the curiosity in her posture. “My lord,” she asked, her voice soft yet probing, “what is the name of this clan?”

Lunareio’s lips curved into a faint smile. “The Silverclaw Kin,” he said. “Led by Queen Seraphyne Lunaris. I’ve also chosen her daughter, Elyndra, to be my divine avatar, to bear a fragment of my authority to protect their people.”

The words hung in the air, and a sudden shift swept through the Lunarium. Every figure—Lilith, Vellrek, Dazmar, Branna, Kal’Thar, Sylvaine, and Eirian—turned to Lunareio, their gazes sharp and pointed, a mix of surprise and something unspoken.

The silence was heavy, and Lunareio’s brow furrowed beneath his hood as he silently wondered.

’Did I say something wrong?’

Lilith suddenly spoke, her voice was sharp and edged with an intensity that made the air prickle.

“Her daughter… your avatar?” she asked, her tone dangerously soft as she leaned forward, her hands tightening at her sides.

“My lord, you shared your divine presence with another woman?”

Lunareio blinked, his mind reeling.

’What sort of question is that!? The fuck? Don’t tell me she’s jealous…’

He kept his expression composed, though inwardly he was scrambling, caught off guard by the sudden shift in her demeanor. The other members of Cult Luminous exchanged glances, some curious, others amused—Dazmar’s smirk was particularly telling.

Lunareio’s eyes narrowed slightly, but he kept his composure, his voice calm and measured. “She is a child, Lilith,” he said, his tone gentle yet firm. “Do well to control yourself.”

Lilith didn’t falter; instead, she smiled, a soft giggle escaping her lips, the sound both alluring as it was unnerving.

She tilted her head, her voice sweet, yet with an undeniable intensity behind it. “Is that so, my lord? But is it not natural for me, as your High Priestess, to guide one so new to our faith? It’s my responsibility to ensure her devotion is true.”

She paused, then leaned in again, her voluptuous form drawing dangerously close, her blindfolded face inches from his.

“So, I’m asking… no…bI must insist that I meet this child.”

Lunareio’s hooded gaze locked onto her, sensing it was more then just guidance she planned to impart on her.

’She’s not letting this go… is she actually jealous?’

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