Chapter Twenty-Two: Demonic Strife
A profound silence filled the room after Edward presented his plan. However, Tola, who had been lingering in the shadows, stepped forward into the light and spoke in a calm, chillingly cold voice: "My Lord... your servant has an idea to refine this plan and make it... far more exquisite."
Edward and Silas turned to him with intense interest. Tola continued, his eyes shimmering with a faint crimson glint: "Why make it look like a common robbery? A theft ends when the money is spent, but strife—strife never truly ends. I suggest we lead the nobles to believe that the Ravenclroft family has betrayed them and stolen their gold. Conversely, we make the Ravenclrofts believe the nobles conspired to plunder their shipment."
Edward's eyes widened as he grasped the horrific scale of the idea. Tola proceeded impassively: "This way, their alliance will crumble and trust will vanish entirely. Conflict will ignite within the dark alleys of London. While they tear each other apart, we shall step into the resulting vacuum to seize control of the black market, uniting the scattered gangs under one banner... the banner of Edward Ferguson. As for the tactical details of execution, I shall leave those for your brilliant mind to weave, my Lord."
Edward and Silas exchanged stunned glances. This time, the silence was heavy with the weight of the proposal. Silas whispered in a trembling voice, "This... this isn't just planning. This is a demonic level of cunning unlike anything I have ever encountered."
A sharp smile played on Edward's lips as he felt a rush of power coursing through his veins. Tola had handed him the key to conquering London from within without drawing a single sword—at least, not yet. Looking down at the map, Edward said, "Very well, Tola... you have breathed spirit into this plan, and I shall give it its body. We will plant the seeds of discord in the heart of the auction, and turn the Ravenclrofts' grand night into the funeral of their glory."
The three of them began to outline the intricate details: how the letters would be forged, who would disguise themselves as Ravenclroft guards to strike the nobles, and who would pose as the nobles' servants to pillage the vaults. The Great Game had begun