413: Chapter 413 Mo Yuan is unwilling to accept defeat, and the conspiracy returns.

Dark purple mist seeped from the cracks in the stone wall, winding around the psionic mirror fragments suspended in mid-air with a faint "sizzle," as if being scorched by an invisible fire.

Mo Yuan stood in the center of the secret room, surrounded by twelve mechanical Puppets standing in a silent circle.

His main consciousness resided in a silver-gray shell; his eyes were closed, but his fingertips twitched violently.

Illusions were still replaying in his Sea of Consciousness—the side hall's candlelight flickered as Chen Wuwang sat at the stone table, coldly scanning each captive.

When the words "Shadow Council" were uttered, the Black Core in his chest jolted, as if ten thousand needles had pierced his Divine Soul simultaneously.

"Ah—!"

He snapped his eyes open, distorted runes appearing deep in his pupils as a roar that didn't sound human erupted from his throat.

His right hand instantly drew a short blade from his waist and stabbed it hard into the chest of a Puppet on the left; the metal shell cracked with a "ka," and blue-purple electric arcs splattered everywhere.

"Shut up... shut up!" He gnashed his teeth, his voice as raspy as sandpaper. "I am the Dominator! Not your sacrifice!"

Cthulhu whispers surged in his mind like tides hitting reefs, wave after wave crashing against his defense of reason.

Those indescribable syllables tried to tamper with his will, turning his anger into pure chaos and a desire for destruction.

But he held on.

The blade tip remained lodged in the Puppet's heart; he relied on this pain to stabilize his mind.

Blood flowed down the hilt, dripping into the rune-carved grooves on the floor with a soft "hiss."

"You want to use my anger to burn everything?" He panted, his mouth twisting into a gruesome smile. "But this anger... belongs only to me."

He slowly pulled out the dagger, letting the Puppet collapse to the ground, motionless.

The other eleven Puppets tilted their heads slightly, seemingly observing his state.

"Chen Wuwang..." He whispered the name, every word squeezed through his teeth. "You dug up the 'Shadow Council' and think you've won?"

He walked step by step toward a black stone wall deep in the secret room, his fingers trailing across the cold surface and leaving five bloody trails.

"You don't understand... people like us are never afraid of failure." He sneered. "Failure is just... a reason to start over."

He raised both hands, fingers spread, palms facing the wall.

The Black Core inside him began to resonate, and a cold energy surged through his Meridians into his fingertips.

The originally blurred patterns on the wall gradually lit up, turning into an extremely complex array diagram.

Data streams surged through the array, revealing information about various latent nodes: a manager of a certain Family's Artifact Refining Workshop, a guard leader of a certain caravan, a rotating Cultivator at a border outpost...

These were all chess pieces he had planted; some had been dormant for years, while others had long been exposed and discarded.

But now, he was recounting his hand.

"Seven forces... still usable." He stared at one of the flashing names, his eyes sinister.

"That old fogey from the Wang Family may be wavering, but his son is greedy for power; the Elder of the Zhao Clan is afraid of death—as long as I hold his Family's lives, he'll have to obey."

As he whispered, he quickly sketched in the void, deducing a three-pronged concept.

"The first line: sever their Foundation—the Spiritual Vein cannot remain. The main mine eye must be destroyed to deprive their mechs of power;"

"The second line: disrupt their upper ranks—find someone to replace key figures. Even controlling a single messenger can make them kill each other;"

"The third line..." He paused, his lips curling up. "Ignite internal strife and let them tear down their own walls."

The plan took shape in his mind, but he did not act immediately.

He knew it was not yet time.

Chen Wuwang was already alert, and the Alliance had begun to integrate. Attacking rashly would only mean sending another batch of cannon fodder.

"So... I must wait." He withdrew his hand, the array's light fading. "Wait for them to relax, wait for them to think everything is calm, and then—"

He turned abruptly, his gaze sweeping over the eleven Puppets.

"Prepare to restart the protocol. I want the Eastern Wasteland to remember this day: they thought they destroyed an organization, but in fact... they only woke up a true nightmare."

He walked to the center of the room, crouched down, and used the dagger's tip to carve a deep groove in the floor.

Blood flowed along the groove, converging into the core of an ancient rune array.

He cut his left wrist, letting the black-red blood drip into it.

The rune array lit up, its eerie light reflecting on his pale face.

"With my blood, I seal this covenant." He chanted softly. "If I cannot destroy the Chen Family, if I cannot burn technology into the darkness, if I cannot see that madman kneel and beg for mercy with my own eyes..."

"May my soul fall into the abyss forever, as food for the Great Old Ones."

As the words fell, a very soft "hum" sounded in the air, as if some existence had accepted the sacrifice.

He stood up and wiped the blood from his face, his eyes completely calm, leaving only a deathly silence of obsession.

He walked to a corner and took out an unactivated jade talisman, carving a symbol on it—an eye entwined with thorns.

This was the new command code.

No longer the "Shadow Council."

But "Light-Erosion."

He embedded the jade talisman into a hidden groove in the wall and pressed it gently.

The entire secret room vibrated slightly, and all the Puppets opened their eyes simultaneously, their pupils showing the same dark patterns.

"Plan initiated." He stood with his back to them, his voice terrifyingly calm. "First step: clean up the failed nodes."

He raised his right hand and pointed at the Puppet on the floor whose heart had been pierced.

"It's useless now. Melt it."

A Puppet stepped forward, its palm opening to spray blue flames. The metal shell quickly distorted and collapsed, finally turning into a pool of bubbling molten iron.

Mo Yuan looked at the residue and suddenly laughed.

The laughter was soft, yet it carried a bone-chilling madness.

"Do you know?" He spoke to the air, as if whispering to someone. "Every time I think I've lost, it's actually... when I truly begin."

He turned around, facing the stone wall, and reached out to touch the four large characters he had just carved—

"The Chen Family Must Perish."

His fingertips slowly slid down, leaving a long bloodstain.

Outside the secret room, the wind and snow of the Great Northern Abyss continued to howl.

But here, it was silent, with only the occasional flicker of light at the edge of the rune array reminding that this underground prison was still functioning.

Mo Yuan stood among the twelve Puppets, like an evil god about to awaken.

His plan had only just begun.

The world outside did not know yet.

But soon, they would.