All Chapters of The Useful Son In-Law: Chapter 131
- Chapter 140
204 chapters
Chapter 130: The Shattered Truth
The square pulsed with unease, the air thick as storm clouds before the first bolt of lightning. Clara stood on the fountain steps, her voice still echoing in the silence that followed her last defiance against the scribe’s venom. The crowd teetered between two worlds—hope and despair, loyalty and rebellion. Their faces shifted like waves: some lifted by her courage, others hardened by hunger, most torn in the middle. Jonathan’s hand rested on his sword hilt, every muscle drawn taut. He leaned toward Clara, his whisper sharp. “He won’t stop until he turns them all. End this now—before the square boils over.” Clara shook her head slightly, eyes fixed on the scribe. “Not by the sword. Truth will unmask him.” The scribe, calm as if the uproar itself were his orchestra, smiled faintly. He spread his arms wide, his voice rising, smooth and piercing like a serpent’s hiss disguised as song. “You speak of truth, my lady? Then let us have it. Tell these good people what you’ve hidden all a
Chapter 131: The Forgotten Name
The council chamber felt colder than stone, though torches burned in the sconces and shadows danced along the carved walls. Clara stood at the center, her hands clasped tightly before her, her heart pounding against her ribs like a war drum. Around her, the council argued in fractured voices, their words striking like arrows but never landing true. “The people waver!” one elder cried, slamming his palm against the table. “The scribe feeds their hunger with lies, and you, girl, would have us meet venom with patience? Each hour we wait, the serpent coils tighter!” Another, weary and lined with age, shook his head. “Strike too soon, and the people will not see a serpent—they will see a martyr. We risk giving him more power than he already holds.” Clara’s gaze swept them all, her voice steady though the storm within her raged. “We stand at a precipice. If we lean too far into fear, we fall into tyranny. If we lean too far into silence, we fall into ruin. Michael fights beyond these wall
✨ Mini Teaser ✨
Whispers stir in the shadows… a name long forgotten returns, and with it, a truth that could shatter everything Clara believes.
Chapter 132: The Murmurs In The Hall
The council chamber breathed unease. Shadows clung to the corners where torchlight did not reach, and every cough, every shift of a chair, seemed louder than the words spoken. The long table of carved oak, once a symbol of unity, had become a battlefield of whispered suspicions.Clara sat at its head, her back straight though her heart felt weighed down with stone. Jonathan stood at her shoulder, silent but watchful, his hand brushing the hilt of his blade as though sensing danger even within these walls. Her father, weary and pale, rubbed at his temples, his eyes darting across the restless faces of the council.It was Councillor Harun who broke the uneasy silence. His voice, though thin with age, carried a sharpness honed by fear.“We cannot keep waiting for Michael. Each day that passes without his return is a day the city weakens. Food grows scarce, the gates creak under strain, and the people lose faith. Must we cling to hope when what we need is action?”Murmurs rose like the ru
Chapter 133: The Whispering Crowd
The night fell heavy, cloaking the city in a quiet unease that even the stars seemed hesitant to disturb. From the tall windows of the council hall, Clara could see lanterns flickering in the streets below, their light barely holding back the dark. She knew what those lights meant—people gathered in hushed groups, voices weaving rumors into truths, truths into doubts.Jonathan leaned against the stone wall beside her, arms crossed, his gaze fixed on the square. “They don’t disperse anymore,” he muttered. “They gather every night, like moths around a flame. And we both know who tends that flame.”“The scribe,” Clara whispered, her eyes narrowing. She could almost feel his presence in the crowd, though he cloaked himself in commonness, blending into the very people he poisoned.Jonathan turned toward her, his voice low but edged with frustration. “We should root him out now, while the council still leans on your side. Every day he breathes is another day he twists their minds. If he ris
Chapter 134: The Weight Of The Crown
The air in the hidden chamber felt dense, as though every breath carried with it the dust of ages and the weight of decisions that could shatter or heal nations. Clara stood at the center of the stone-carved room, her eyes fixed upon the relics laid before her on an ancient altar: the fragments of the Crown of Illuminar. Once resplendent with gems that captured starlight itself, now it lay fractured, each shard whispering power yet incomplete.The scribe’s schemes echoed still in her mind—his words meant to seed doubt, to paint Michael as weakened, to twist the truth of their mission. Clara clenched her fists at the memory. His subtle manipulations had nearly drawn some of the people to despair. Even the strongest of them had shown cracks.But despair could not be allowed to take root. Not now.A hush fell as Ama entered quietly, her steps deliberate. Behind her came Gideon, his armor clinking softly, his expression unreadable. They exchanged no words at first, only looks heavy with u
Chapter 135: The Gathering Tempest
The following morning dawned heavy, not with sunlight but with a haze that cloaked the city in an amber gloom. The bells rang softly from the western tower, their tone meant for prayer but sounding instead like warning. Clara awoke restless, her heart burdened with dreams she could not wholly recall—shadows advancing, the crown glowing, Michael’s voice drowned by distant thunder.When she entered the council hall, she found Gideon already pacing, his armor strapped, his face set hard. Ama sat at the long table, her quill poised but unused, eyes distant. A silence had settled among them, the kind that precedes a storm.“What news?” Clara asked.“The scouts returned at dawn,” Gideon replied. “They report movements beyond the valley. Camps of men—not merchants, not wanderers. An army, Clara. Thousands.”Ama’s quill fell from her hand. “An army? From where?”“No banners fly openly,” Gideon said, voice grim. “But there are signs… marks of those long thought gone. And whispers among the sco
📖 Reader’s Note
The past chapters have carried us through fire and shadow. Clara stands at the heart of a city torn by hunger, whispers, and rebellion. The scribe’s venom spreads deeper, even within the council, while distant drums warn of an enemy drawing near. Yet Clara holds the line—her faith in Michael unbroken, even as visions reveal the scribe serves a darker master. And now, the storm marches closer, and Clara herself has become the enemy’s true prize…
Chapter 136: Through The Broken Gates
The city lay in eerie silence, its once-proud gates now broken, half-buried beneath the ash of battle. The scent of iron and smoke drifted through the wind, mingling with the whispers of those who had fallen. Clara stood before the shattered archway, her cloak torn, her face streaked with both blood and tears. Jonathan and the few remaining sentinels stood behind her, their expressions hollow, their hope flickering like dying embers.“Through the gates…” Jonathan murmured, his voice hoarse. “It feels strange to even look at them now.”Clara didn’t answer immediately. Her gaze lingered on the cracked symbols etched into the gate’s stone—ancient runes that once pulsed with protective light. Now, they were dull and lifeless, like the eyes of a statue that had seen too much. “These gates were built to keep darkness out,” she finally said. “Now they’ve become a doorway for it to crawl in.”Jonathan stepped closer, resting a hand on her shoulder. “Then maybe it’s time we walk through instea
Chapter 137: The Veil Beyond The Gates
Light and shadow warred around them as the broken gates sealed behind their steps. For a moment, the world was nothing but a blur of sound—wind howling like a thousand voices, the crackle of unseen fires, and the low hum of something ancient stirring beneath the surface.Then the storm subsided. Silence descended.Clara opened her eyes to a landscape that was both familiar and alien. The sky above was not blue nor gray but an ever-shifting canvas of muted gold and violet. Mountains rose in the distance like broken teeth, and the ground shimmered faintly, as though it remembered once being whole.Jonathan stood beside her, dazed but alive. “Where… are we?” he asked, voice echoing faintly, as if the air itself hesitated to carry sound.Michael’s wings folded tightly behind him. His gaze swept across the horizon, calm yet grim. “Between worlds. The place where creation and decay touch but never blend. The Veil.”“The Veil?” Clara repeated softly. The name alone carried weight, like a for