The Male Lead isn't Following the Script!-Chapter 304: Opposing Force

"That man," the leader sneered, stepping over the body, "was the tether keeping Benedict’s mind under our control. He fed his life force into the spell. So noble. Our master will definitely reward him in death." He laughed bitterly. "Now he’s dead. And so is our hold on the Northern Duke."

Annora defied him, and he is going to make her life hell. With Benedict awake... Hah, he will soon realise that the one who benefited the most was Annora, and direct his anger towards her.

Even as he spoke, the threads of magic tethered to Benedict snapped—like strings of a marionette cut all at once. Far away, the Northern Duke’s eyes would clear. The haze would lift. And with it... Clarity would return.

The leader turned slowly to the others, power crackling dangerously in his hands. "If any of you wish to join him, speak now."

No one did.

His eyes still glowed with anger. There was one last thing he needed to do. The last piece of protection that woman had. She somehow made use of the body they granted her, leaked the forbidden magic to contain Dimitri. The longer she maintained the control, the sooner she would die. And he wanted to hasten the process.

---

They were not born, not in the traditional sense. They had been shaped—crafted for one purpose, one divine mission. Their existence was a tether to the Master.

The Master was not a man. Not to them.

He was a force. A presence. An entity so immense that to look upon him with human understanding would be like staring into the sun and expecting to see form. He was everywhere and nowhere. When he spoke, it wasn’t in words but in impressions that pressed into their bones and soaked their thoughts. They had never spoken back. That was not their place.

He did not walk among them. He did not eat, sleep, or breathe. He didn’t have to.

They had believed, no, they knew—that he was the pinnacle. The zenith of what could be. The world bent around his will, and they existed within that bend, unquestioning. Their Master had taken the power to control the minds of others and turned it into a religion. With a gesture, a whisper of thought, he could fracture a man’s sanity or make an enemy offer their own soul.

He shared the truth of this universe, that it was not real, it was a mere story. A god so benevolent he shared the secrets and kept nothing from them.

The Master had never hidden his disdain for the resistance he encountered. A power that was fighting him on his mission to maintain balance in this world, save the world from the selfishness of the people, set the people on the right path... A noble task indeed.

They had assumed, in their reverence, that any opposition was pitiful. Temporary. That those who stood against him would be swallowed whole in time.

Until recently. 𝒻𝓇𝑒𝘦𝘸𝑒𝒷𝓃ℴ𝑣𝘦𝑙.𝒸ℴ𝘮

Now, the impressions they received were clouded. His will, once sharp and commanding, now arrived like ripples across disturbed water. Not unclear, but unsteady.

Another power? One that could challenge Him?

He had not addressed them directly. He never did.

But he did not intervene when their leader severed the connection to Benedict, so what was their Master’s will? The leader was going against his wishes, yet he did not intervene!

Has he abandoned them? He only communicated with them through the leader. But now... Now they were not so sure.

They didn’t say these things out loud. No one did. But they began to think them. Quietly. Carefully. And once thought, those questions lingered.

The Master had spoken once, only once—fragments, nothing direct. Impressions of a greater war, a conflict not yet seen. A power working against him, sapping his strength. He claimed he had been limited all this time. That he could act now. That more power would be given.

They bowed their heads, believing him. But now the belief had faltered.

Because if he had more power, why hadn’t they seen it?

They had been told he was waiting. That he had always been waiting. That the pieces had to fall into place. But from where they stood—hidden in the outer reaches of his vast network—they began to wonder: was he waiting... or was he losing?

They had never seen him. Not really. A presence, a voice without sound, commands that threaded into their minds like silk and stayed there. A god didn’t have to be visible to be known.

And yet...

The world around them was changing. Their enemies were growing bolder. Annora had turned traitor. The control over Benedict—something they’d worked so long to maintain—was shattered, and the political outcome was... uncertain at best. Cassian had not even attended the wedding, and still the Master had let things unravel.

Where was the demonstration of godhood?

A voice that whispered, What if we were wrong?

Of course, they said nothing. None of them would dare.

Not yet.

Because while the Master’s power had faltered, it had not vanished. He could still end them with a thought. He did it before. He probably let the leader act like this because it was part of his plan... They did not know how the Gods thought, they could only believe. Pushing their doubts aside, they tried to be resolute.

He was their creator, how could they doubt him? Had he ever steered them the wrong way? No. It was a pity one of their own died, but war demands sacrifice.

But still, the question will always linger.

And always, beneath it all, was the fear.

There was something out there. Something strong enough to make Him hesitate. Something He would not name. They felt it through the bond, in the dark places of their minds where the Master left fragments of himself behind.

And if something could rival the Master—what did that mean for them?

Their creation was centred around his supremacy. His eternity was their purpose. If that eternity could be challenged, it could be destroyed...

Then what were they?