Chapter 82: I’ll kill you...
Back at the summit, the other high-ranking officials and Heads of Clans slowly made their way out. The events today were way too bizarre to comprehend.
First, it was the changes of the Everheart Realm, next it was the subduing of the Titan Beasts delegates, the heaven-rending fight of Zeratheil and Soleine, and lastly, the entry of one of the most illustrious and beautiful women in Verandis—Vraelyn Storm.
The news spread like wildfire throughout the continent, and one of the most average, no-name trash’s names was forcibly brought to light.
Emperal.
The man who had the direct backing of the Monarch of Solmere.
In the grounds of the broken arena, where once two warriors fought, one of them died.
In the middle of it, a beautiful woman stood there motionlessly. Her eyes had become hollow.
"...Why, why does he hate me so much?"
If Emperal had been there and heard her words, a single sentence would have instantly echoed through his mind.
"The lion, the witch, and the audacity of this bitch."
Seraveth trembled; after an hour, every soul had vacated the place, deserting it. But she was still standing, muttering continuously.
Seraveth’s golden hair cascaded down her knees, as her eyes began to glow. But this time, her intent wasn’t locked on Emperal.
It was directed at something else, something incredibly close to her existence.
"Vraelyn Storm, I’ll...kill you."
She hissed through her clenched teeth, the air around her shifting unnaturally. She fell into deep thoughts...about her revenge.
...
Even though the entire Verandis was shaken by the news, the most affected one was, of course, Solmere and its officials.
At the highest point of the cliff in the very center of the Solspire sat the Ashspire Palace. It was carved directly into the limestone, the chambers and halls cut into living stone.
The palace’s administrative section occupied the cliff face’s middle section. It was between the throne room above and the port districts far below. Basically, it was where the council received the reports.
The room was the same as the palace stone, the walls carrying the warmth of the residual flames of the Monarch of the Empire.
It was a large room, and at the chair of the Military Head beside the window sat Varent Ash. His eyes were deep ember, and he had golden-orange hair.
His aura was such that, if the common people felt it, they would surely be horrified. His bloodline purity, it was...Noble Blood! Directly below the royalty.
He was one of the strongest experts in the entirety of Solmere. His cultivation was as high as the sky.
His amber eyes glanced through the report just once, then he set it down. Lighting up a roll, he puffed out a bunch.
"So his name is Emperal, huh?" he said, it was more to himself than any other person.
"...That man is a Stage Three Verth Seeker," confirmed the personal assistant standing behind Varent.
Varent raised his eyebrows when he heard this. "Tell me more."
"Yes, My Lord."
At the far opposite of Varent, in the central administration, Lyren Deepcrane sat on her chair, rummaging through countless documents. She had silver-white hair and a tall body. She was tall, even by crane-blood standards.
Currently, she has the exact same document as that of Varent.
"Heh? Killed a Verth Shaper and that too...a Blazefang at the summit? I have to say, he looks kind of valiant."
Lyren chuckled and set the report down.
"Master, do you think this is a political move? After all, this man is just trash with half-blood flowing through his veins."
An attendant behind Lyren spoke, her voice fraught with confusion. Hearing her words, Lyren shook her head.
"Trash? If I were you, I would think twice before using that word in the castle, who knows when your head will roll on the floor."
The attendant’s face instantly paled, her knees smashing onto the ground.
"Master! I did not mean that!"
The attendant began sweating profusely, after all, the temper of the Phoenix Empress is known by all.
"...I was just joking, get up."
One week after the summit, Dawnreach Mansion. Dawn.
The sea waves crashed against the cliffs, but the man sitting cross-legged at the summit wasn’t shaken.
Emperal sat on a cultivation mat outside, with his eyes shut. Inside his body, Emperal’s consciousness snapped open.
The Soul Space opened before his eyes; there was no transition delay. Emperal nodded when he saw the dense amount of Soul Energy collected. It was far more than previously, and, unknown to him, the Soul Space had grown a bit.
His eyes shifted to the Soul Seed, which was floating in the center calmly. That too had grown under the influence of the endless Soul Energy he was getting.
Moving towards it, he circled it a few times. The Mirror continued feeding it Soul Energy, saturating it to a terrifying degree.
And it hadn’t even been that long!
Without hesitation, he sat beside the seed. His cultivation method was still the same; recognition rather than force, he let his consciousness settle into a state of stillness.
And the Seed immediately responded, a warm feeling resonated in his body, filling him with this otherworldly energy. He stayed completely still.
This continued for several hours before the Soul Sense in him experienced a shift. Emperal snapped open his eyes, raising his hand.
He willed it, and milky-white light shone on his palm. And in the next few seconds, the energy slowly began to take shape.
"Hmm, although it is still less compared to my expectations. But this is still passable."
Emperal nodded his head when he saw the sword form in his hand. It was flickering and unstable, and drained his Soul Energy at an alarming rate.
But there was a small smile on his face.
"Mhm, good work, in the next six months. You will definitely grow into someone whom even peak Verth Wielders would be scared of."
Emperal didn’t say anything, but his silence was more than enough for an unreachable and strong conviction.
