Chapter 396: They had everything.

Sam Stormfeather froze mid-swing, eyes wide. His bodyguards stiffened, locked in place as if time itself had stopped. Their weapons dropped to the ground. "Fighting is useless, Stormfeather. You and your family will answer for your crimes. After this purge, the noble house of Stormfeather will be remembered in history for treason, and only treason."

With a flick of his hand, the frozen men collapsed to their knees powerless. Enforcers moved swiftly, binding them, confiscating the bags of money.

As they were marched out, more enforcers from the white collar department and evidence logging departments poured in. Every coin here had to be accounted for. Every noble that owed money to the casino had to be registered.

After every casino was raided--six in total, the enforcers moved on to a temple that the Stormfeathers had built in the city. Maris had shared information on the location, as the place were Mr. Vikram kept the real account books. She said there was more, but she had never been allowed within the core areas. All she knew was that Itai called it their most important asset.

When Lenard and Elias stepped inside, they found believers in the Eagle god worshiping. The air reeked of incense. To outsiders, it was a place of worship. To those who knew better, it was a fortress of corruption.

The believers were sent out just as an altar was turned over. It was sitting on a stack of account books, wrapped in damp proof paper. Two men in priestly robes shuffled nervously, their chants hollow.

Lenard rolled his eyes. "Give it up," he laughed, as he gestured for them to be taken away in handcuffs.

As more priests were arrested, the search took them deeper into the temple, where they discovered a computer room. Glowing screen hummed with encrypted transactions. Five men who were dressed like priests were sitting at different desks, operating the computers. They were clicking furiously, trying to delete information and send warnings.

One pulled a weapon, but he was shot imemdiately. The other four were arrested.

"This really makes me sick," Elias muttered. "Rebels disguised as priests, laundering money under the guise of faith!"

He spoke too soon, because the deeper they pressed, the more rot they uncovered. In private rooms where believers were supposed to rest when they wanted to worship for long periods, they found something worse. Rooms had women in gaudy silks, whose laughter was brittle. Prostitutes. brought in to entertain patrons and lure recruits.

Elias nearly exploded in rage when he saw them. "Arrest them," he growled.

The women’s eyes widened as they were bound swiftly and taken away.

Further still, a hidden passage revealed a contraband factory. Workers froze mid-motion when the enforcers discovered them. Their hands were stained with chemicals, crates of contraband stacks high. These were the drugs used to control young recruits. A policy introduced when Itai took over the organization. The temple was also where the poison capsules were manufactured.

Enforcers smashed locks, confiscated evidence, dragging the culprits into the open.

And then--the strangest discovery. A studio, tucked beneath the temple’s foundations. Instruments scattered, microphones still warm. Someone had been recording music, but escaped before the enforcers found the studio.

"So this is where they record all that rebellious filth they call music." Lenard whistled. "Maris Stormfeather deserves a reward for what she has brought us. This is everything! This temple is truly the core of their operations."

Elias’s eyes narrowed. "They poison the bodies and minds of our children. How can people like this deserve to rule this empire? They have no respect for the gods, so how can they respect the law?"

Lenard called the king and told him what they had found. The king sent in a team of experts from the capital.

By mid-day, the temple stood gutted. What had once been a sanctuary of corruption was now a ruin, stripped bare.

Maris Stormfeather received a message about the successful raid. That same message told her to move immediately. All day, she had been waiting for this message. The house was under strict lock down, but she took a risk, playing a dangerous game.

She rushed at the guards, lied with ease that Oprah was badly ill. Itai was in a meeting, and she couldn’t disturb him. The young girl was shivering and sweaty, as pale as a white sheet.

Much as they didn’t want to let her out, the bodyguards knew that the consequences of the boss’s daughter dying on their watch would be worse. Besides, Maris was in tears, begging them to save Oprah.

So, Maris left the house, along with a team of ten bodyguards.

At the hospital, a doctor declared that Oprah needed surgery. Mother and daughter were rushed into a operation room, and never came out.

Three hours later, when the bodyguards went inside, they found an empty. A search of the hospital proved useless. Mother and child had long vanished. By the time word reached Itai. it was already too late.

Itai stormed out of his office to their bedroom. He rushed to the safe, the one where his empire’s secrets lay hidden. Inside were the innermost workings of the movement: names of noble and royal supporters, blackmail material, fallback plans, last resort bank reserves.

Even though he had never given Maris the password to the safe, his instincts drove him to check.

He yanked the door open.

Empty.

Every document, every ledger, everything---gone.

The realization hit like a blade. His wife had truly betrayed him. She was the blade the enforcers had used to gut him from within. He had burned the supermarkets and bakeries because Bonzo had given that information up.

But the temple....when he learned it had been raided, he had guessed there was a mole within his movement. A high ranked mole. It just didn’t cross his mind that all these years he had been sleeping with that mole.

He pulled his hand from the empty safe, thinking of everything he had lost. Now, everything was truly over, because the king and his people had everything.

"No!" His scream tore through the room, raw and feral, echoing against the walls.