Chapter 622: Chapter-622
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The next morning, the Vanguard estate was bustling with unprecedented activity.
Samuel, the ever-dutiful and notoriously brilliant scholar husband, was officially departing for the remote Vanguard ancestral temple in the mountains. To the outside world—and the gossiping servants—it was a profoundly romantic gesture. The terrifying Vanguard Madam was bedridden with illness, and her devoted husband was embarking on a week-long, isolated pilgrimage to pray for her health and their marital harmony.
Standing in the courtyard, Samuel looked immaculate in his traveling robes of deep forest green silk.
Heena stood on the steps of the manor, draped in a thick fur cloak, playing the part of the frail, touched wife to absolute perfection. She coughed delicately into a silk handkerchief, looking at him with wide, entirely fake teary eyes.
"Have a safe journey, Husband," Heena murmured softly, stepping forward to adjust the collar of his cloak. "Make sure you pray wholeheartedly. No distractions."
Samuel looked down at her, his golden eyes gleaming with profound amusement. He leaned in, pressing a gentle, lingering kiss to her forehead.
"I will pray with my entire soul, Wife," Samuel whispered against her skin, his voice dropping so low only she could hear. "But do try not to burn down the capital while I am communing with the heavens. I would hate to come back and find my favorite teahouse in ashes."
Heena smiled sweetly, patting his chest. "I am on strict bed rest. What could I possibly do?"
Samuel chuckled, a dark, knowing sound. He stepped back, gave a flawless, elegant bow to the observing Vanguard generals, and boarded his carriage.
As the carriage rolled out of the heavy iron gates, Samuel’s expression instantly dropped into cold, calculating absolute authority. He tapped his knuckles against the wooden wall of the carriage.
Instantly, a shadow guard materialized in the corner of the moving vehicle, dropping to one knee.
"Master," the shadow guard whispered.
"Leave the alpha squad in the capital," Samuel ordered smoothly, his golden eyes flashing with ruthless intelligence. "Watch the Vanguard estate day and night. I want to know exactly who my wife meets, where she goes, and who she orders killed. Do not interfere unless her life is in immediate danger. Just report."
"Yes, Master."
Back at the estate, the absolute second Samuel’s carriage disappeared around the bend of the road, the delicate, frail aura surrounding Heena completely vanished.
She lowered her silk handkerchief, her dark eyes sharpening into freezing, lethal daggers. The posture of the sick, loving wife evaporated, instantly replaced by the terrifying, blood-soaked posture of the Vanguard Madam.
"Grandfather," Heena said, her voice entirely devoid of its previous softness.
The old Vanguard Marquis, who had been standing nearby wiping a proud tear from his eye at Samuel’s devotion, blinked. "Yes, Seera?"
"Lock down the estate," Heena commanded, turning on her heel and marching back into the manor, her fur cloak billowing behind her like a war banner. "No one enters. No one leaves. Any servant caught trying to sneak a message out of the gates is to be executed on the spot."
The Vanguard generals in the courtyard immediately straightened, their military instincts kicking in. They didn’t ask questions. When the Madam spoke in that tone, it meant blood was about to spill.
Ten minutes later, Heena was sitting in the heavily fortified underground war room of the Vanguard estate. The doors were bolted with heavy iron bars, and only her two most fiercely loyal lieutenants were permitted inside.
She threw the heavy fur cloak onto a chair and slammed the Emperor’s wax-sealed scroll onto the massive map table.
"Break the seal," Heena ordered her right-hand lieutenant, a scarred veteran named Kael. "We are going to war with the Ministry of Revenue."
Kael’s eyes widened slightly as he recognized the unmarked black wax of the Emperor’s shadow guards. He drew his dagger, sliced the seal, and unrolled the thick parchment, pinning the corners down on the table.
It was a list.
Not just a list of names, but a meticulously detailed map of the Empire’s financial arteries. It detailed exactly which officials were signing off on the grain shipments to the Northern Army, and exactly where those shipments were being diverted and sold on the black market for pure silver.
"They are starving our boys on the border," Heena said softly, tracing a metal-clad finger over the name of the Vice Minister of Revenue. Her voice was terrifyingly calm. "They are taking Vanguard blood, turning it into gold, and using it to buy silk robes and concubines in the capital."
Kael gripped the edge of the table, his knuckles turning white. "Madam... this goes all the way to the top of the civil faction. If we assassinate them, the civil scholars will completely riot. The Emperor will be forced to execute us to maintain peace."
"We are not going to assassinate them," Heena corrected, a dark, sociopathic smile slowly stretching across her face.
She picked up a red ink brush from the table and drew a harsh, bleeding circle around the Ministry of Revenue’s central treasury compound.
"Assassination is what they expect from military brutes," Heena murmured, her eyes gleaming with absolute, unhinged brilliance. "We are going to politically and financially butcher them. I need our spies inside the treasury by midnight. I need forged ledger books. And I need a team to quietly kidnap the Vice Minister’s most beloved son."
The lieutenants exchanged a dark, thrilling look. This was the Vanguard Madam they knew—ruthless, brilliant, and utterly completely terrifying.
"We have eight days before the scholar returns," Heena stated, tossing the red brush onto the table. "By the time he gets back, the Ministry of Revenue is going to exist only in the history books. Let’s get to work."
Saying you are going to dismantle a massive, deeply entrenched political faction is one thing. Actually doing it when your body is actively giving up on you is entirely different.
Sitting in the underground war room, Heena quickly realized she had been acting like an arrogant fool. She had completely forgotten that a person cannot just run around orchestrating a grand political conspiracy after being physically exhausted and bedridden for an entire day. Her waist throbbed, her head spun, and a dull, warning ache pulsed behind her eyes.
"Host," the System floated down, looking at her rubbing her temples. "We have so much time. Why are you rushing the work so fast? You should rest."
’Have you gone completely crazy?’ Heena snapped internally, leaning heavily against the map table. ’Of course we need to finish the work as soon as possible. Do you think a terminal blood clot is some kind of casual game?’
"I didn’t say it was a game!" the System protested defensively.
’You don’t understand, you idiot,’ Heena sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. ’Yes, I can handle the pain right now. But in a few days, as the clot progresses and my time comes nearer, I won’t even be able to walk properly. My motor functions will shut down. How the hell do you expect me to finish the Emperor’s bloody purge if I can’t even stand up? Doing it right now, while I still have my limbs, is the only option.’
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