Capítulo 430: Empire of Tomorrow
The Creighton estate was a hive of calculated chaos. The sprawling laboratories buzzed with energy, researchers flitting between experiments and glowing vials of aetherite like moths around a flame. The atmosphere was intoxicating—a mix of curiosity, ambition, and the faint tang of danger that came with handling something so profoundly new.
For now, I had decided to stay here. Rachel was still at the frontlines, training under her father. Her absence left a peculiar void, one I filled by immersing myself in the work at hand. And what work it was.
Aetherite was extraordinary. Every day it revealed new facets of its potential, proving itself leagues beyond beast blood and parts in alchemy. Potions, runes, spell arrays—everything we touched with aetherite seemed to shine brighter, burn hotter, last longer. It wasn't just a material; it was a paradigm shift.
But revolutions didn't come without resistance.
The deeper we delved into aetherite's potential, the clearer it became that Noctalis was on a collision course with some of the most powerful forces in the world. The Twelve Great Guilds weren't just industry leaders; they were institutions, monolithic powers that had dominated their respective domains for decades. Skyveil, Ferraclysm, Nexarion, and Pyronis were the most obvious adversaries. Skyveil, with their stranglehold on aerospace and transportation, wouldn't take kindly to aetherite-powered alternatives. Ferraclysm would balk at the disruption to weapons and military technology. Nexarion's monopoly on healthcare and healing arts would be shattered by the advent of aetherite potions, and Pyronis, ever the innovator in energy and elemental technology, would see us as an existential threat.
Even Chronovant, with its relentless focus on research and development, might attempt to muscle in. If they decided to explore aetherite on their own, things could get complicated fast.
I sighed, leaning back in my chair as I stared at the holographic display hovering in front of me. A map of the moon was projected in pale blue light, with glowing markers indicating aetherite deposits. Each marker represented an opportunity—but also a potential battleground.
Noctalis wasn't ready to face the Twelve Great Guilds head-on. Not yet.
The solution, then, was simple: strike before they could react.
My plan was to establish the aetherite industry within a tightly controlled bubble. We'd develop the infrastructure, refine the technology, and integrate it into a range of products—all in secrecy. Then, when the industry was ready, we'd bombard the market with aetherite goods. Potions, artifacts, mana-tech—the works. The Guilds wouldn't have the time to mobilize before the market was saturated and their foothold eroded.
Even if they attempted to claim their share of the moon's riches, it would already be too late.
The moon was unclaimed territory, a chaotic frontier governed by whoever got there first. Initially, I'd relied on the Tower of Magic to secure my foothold, purchasing access through their existing spatial pathways. But that dependency was gone now. With the Creighton family's help, I'd constructed aetherite-based spatial pathways directly between their estate and the moon. No intermediaries. No vulnerabilities.
It was a bold move, and not without risks. The Tower of Magic, now strengthened by their integration with the Tower of Alchemy, was a formidable force. But even they couldn't rival the Creighton family, one of the seven superpowers of the world. Alastor and Priscilla's cooperation gave me a significant edge—one I intended to exploit fully.
As I studied the map, another thought gnawed at the edges of my mind.
The moon was only the beginning.
Mars. The red planet had long been a source of curiosity, its surface dotted with meteorite impacts. And those meteorites? Many of them contained aetherite. It was a tantalizing prospect, one that hinted at the vast, untapped potential lying just out of reach.
Earth, curiously, was devoid of aetherite. An anomaly, certainly, but one that worked in my favor. The absence of aetherite on Earth made my monopolization of off-world deposits all the more impactful. Every gram of aetherite mined from the moon—and potentially Mars—would increase my leverage over the markets.
I leaned forward, my fingers brushing across the holographic interface as I began outlining the next phase of the plan. The glowing markers shifted, and a new map appeared, this one depicting Mars's surface.
"I'll need to secure the logistics for Mars expeditions soon," I muttered to myself. "But first, the moon must be ours completely."
The hum of the estate around me faded into the background as my focus sharpened. Every detail, every calculation, every contingency was another step toward a future where Noctalis wasn't just a guild—but the guild. The one force capable of challenging the Twelve Great Guilds and reshaping the world.
And when that future came, no civil war, no petty alliance, no force of stagnation would stand in my way.
As soon as Rachel and Alastor returned to the Creighton estate, Rachel practically launched herself at me, wrapping me in a hug so fierce it nearly knocked me off balance. Her arms clung tightly around my neck, and I could feel her trembling slightly.
"I was so worried about you, Arthur," she muttered, her voice soft but charged with emotion. Her hand gently caressed the back of my head, as if reassuring herself that I was truly there.
I couldn't help but smile as I rubbed her back in return. "I'm alright, Rach," I replied softly. "We talked, didn't we? We've called."
She pulled back just enough to look at my face, her sapphire eyes piercing into mine. "We did, but I was still worried," she said. Her gaze didn't waver, like she was searching for something—some crack in the mask I wore, some hidden pain.
Her concern was as touching as it was heavy. I knew what she meant, of course. Magnus. His death.
"Arthur," Alastor's voice broke in, his tone somber yet steady. He stood a few paces behind Rachel, his usual air of authority softened just slightly. "What happened to Magnus… it is a tragedy. I cannot say I liked him, but I respected him. Deeply. His death, and the lack of proper acknowledgment… it is disheartening, to say the least."
I nodded, my jaw tightening as I bit back the wave of emotions threatening to resurface. Guilt, grief, anger—it was all there, swirling inside me.
Alastor took a step closer, his sharp eyes studying me. "However, Arthur," he said, his voice firm, "your master was a hero. His actions will not be forgotten. What he accomplished… it has brought the war in the East closer to an end."
Rachel's brow furrowed as she turned to her father, her arms still loosely wrapped around me. "What do you mean, Father?" she asked.
Alastor crossed his arms, his expression grim but resolute. "The war in the East is nearing a truce," he said. "With the death of the Vampire Monarch, the vampires are in disarray. They've lost their unifying figure, and the factions within their kind are already beginning to fracture. Even with Alyssara Velcroix at the helm of the Red Chalice Cult, the vampires are too fatigued to continue the war at its current scale."
Rachel blinked, surprised. "A truce? But what about Alyssara? She's—"
"A threat, certainly," Alastor interrupted, "but a divided force is far easier to contend with than one under a singular, focused leader. The Imperial reinforcements from the Slatemark Empire are ready to withdraw; the East itself is desperate for respite. A truce benefits all parties involved."
I stood silently, absorbing his words. Magnus's sacrifice had indeed shifted the balance of the war. The death of the Vampire Monarch, Caladros, was a blow so severe it had shaken an entire species. It wasn't victory, not truly, but it was enough to buy time. Time for the Empire. Time for the world. Time for me.
But it still left a bitter taste in my mouth.
"And what of the Cult Leader?" I asked, my voice low. "Alyssara isn't someone who'll fade quietly into the background."
Alastor inclined his head slightly, acknowledging the truth of my words. "She won't," he admitted. "But she is an opportunist. With the vampires weakened and divided, she's likely to consolidate her power in the shadows rather than risk open conflict."
Rachel frowned, her fingers unconsciously tightening around my arm. "It doesn't feel like enough," she said quietly. "Magnus gave everything, and this is what it leads to? A truce?"
"It's more than it seems," Alastor said. "War doesn't always end in decisive battles and grand declarations. Sometimes, it's about survival. About ensuring the world can endure long enough for the next fight."
I looked at him, my lips pressing into a thin line. "Then it's up to us to make sure that next fight isn't one we lose."
Alastor nodded, his gaze meeting mine. "It is," he said simply.
Rachel looked between us, her expression conflicted. "But Arthur, what about you?" she asked, her voice softer now. "You've been carrying so much… you can't keep shouldering everything alone."
I managed a small smile, though it didn't quite reach my eyes. "I'm not alone," I said, glancing at her. "I have all of you."
She smiled back, faint but genuine, and leaned into me once more.
And as we stood there, the weight of Magnus's legacy and the battles yet to come settled heavily on my shoulders. But for the first time since his death, it felt just a little lighter.
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