The Ruthless Elite のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 21 - チャプター 27

The sun dipped below the jagged horizon of Valemire, bathing the ancient city in blood-red hues. High above the plaza, from the apex of the Voss Spire, Damien stood alone, a shadow among shadows. His breath curled in the air, sharp with tension. The summit wind howled like a thousand lost souls. Below, the city murmured, unaware of the silent war about to erupt beneath its very feet.“Everything is in place,” whispered a voice behind him.Damien didn’t turn. He recognized the voice immediately—Killian Roarke, his most trusted strategist and the newly appointed Head of Internal Shadows. Killian’s face bore the trademark scars of loyalty: a diagonal gash across his brow, burn marks on his neck from the Venari interrogation chambers, and eyes that had once seen mercy but were now empty pools of calculation.“Good,” Damien said. “Are the councilors in attendance?”“All but one. Councilor Rhiane has gone dark.”Damien’s jaw tightened. Rhiane was supposed to be the neutral voice within the

The chamber beneath the Crimson Cathedral whispered of old power. Its walls, lined with sigils of the founding bloodlines, pulsed with faint crimson light, as though the stones themselves remembered every betrayal, every oath, every scream buried beneath the empire's gilded legacy. Aria stood at the center, the others silent behind her.Something had changed.Lucien Albrecht’s blood still darkened the blade in her hand. The echoes of his final gasp haunted the edges of her mind, but it wasn’t remorse she felt. It was revelation.She was no longer the outsider.She was becoming the empire.“Aria,” Damien’s voice was low but edged with caution. “You don’t have to do this alone.”But she turned, her eyes unreadable. “I was born alone into this. I think it’s time I find out why.”The vault’s floor split open with a tremor, revealing a spiral staircase descending into a void too dark for torchlight. The symbols above the vault had recognized her blood, and that alone meant the founders had

Rain hammered the blackened streets of Saint Virelle as if the sky itself sought to wash away the blood that had been spilled. Aria Vale stood atop the roof of the abandoned opera house, drenched, her crimson coat clinging to her lithe form. Her gloved fingers curled around the silencer of her pistol, breath rising in steam as she stared into the courtyard below. There, beneath the shattered fountain and broken statues, stood Damien Voss.He had come alone.Again.And still, she didn't know whether that made him brave, foolish, or heartbreakingly loyal.She had expected betrayal. But not the kind that came wrapped in truth.Her earpiece crackled. "Aria," Bear's voice came through, gruff and low. "Are you absolutely sure about this meet? You know what the last drop cost us.""I know," she whispered. Her voice trembled, not from fear—but anticipation. "But this one’s different. It’s not about the empire now. It’s about the truth."

The mansion was silent, the kind of silence that clung to the walls and crawled beneath the skin. Damien stood at the edge of the Voss estate’s war room, his arms folded tightly across his chest, eyes locked on the sprawling map pinned to the mahogany table. Flames flickered in the hearth behind him, casting shadows over the walls lined with tomes and weapons—ancient tools once used by their bloodline to conquer and destroy. Now, they were symbols of an empire on the brink of implosion.Aria entered quietly, her boots soundless against the polished floor. Her face was pale but set in determination, the weight of what they had discovered still fresh behind her eyes. She carried the black file Damien had given her the night before—evidence of surveillance, of secrets buried in generations of Voss deception.She set it beside him. "I read everything. Twice."Damien didn’t turn. "And?""I’m ready to end this. All of it."Only then did he look at her. A flicker of respect—perhaps awe—passe