Bab 432: Dragons and Diplomacy
The journey to the Southern continent had been long but surprisingly smooth, the modern convenience of high-speed airships and the seamless efficiency of teleportation arrays making the trek manageable. Still, nothing quite prepared me for the sheer grandeur of the Viserion estate.
We approached through a wide avenue flanked by towering trees whose leaves shimmered faintly with a golden hue, enchanted to absorb and refract the sunlight. It was as if the very air here was imbued with energy, crackling faintly, a testament to the Viserion family's dominion over lightning and fire magic.
The estate itself was an architectural marvel, blending traditional opulence with cutting-edge modernity. The central mansion was an enormous structure of polished obsidian and crystalline panels that caught the light in kaleidoscopic hues. Electric-blue ley lines pulsed along its surface, their glow faint but constant, a reminder of the mana circuits woven throughout the building. Surrounding the mansion were sprawling gardens, each section themed to represent a different element: a grove of perpetually blazing fire lilies, a reflecting pool shimmering with lightning coursing just beneath the surface, and even a glass enclosure where sparks danced like fireflies among golden fruit-bearing trees.
"So, this family is the ruler of lightning and fire magic," Tyra murmured beside me, her voice tinged with awe as her gaze darted from one wonder to another.
I nodded, my own admiration hidden beneath a mask of calm. "It's their birthright," I said simply.
Our escort, an Ascendant-ranker with sharp, vigilant eyes, led us past towering statues of dragons coiled protectively around obsidian plinths. Each statue exuded an almost tangible aura of power, as if they were guardians more than mere decorations. We entered the mansion through enormous double doors made of polished brass, engraved with intricate depictions of storms and infernos.
Inside, the modernity of the estate became even more apparent. The foyer was vast, its floors a gleaming black marble streaked with veins of molten gold. Holographic projections of ancient Viserion leaders adorned the walls, their images accompanied by glowing runic inscriptions detailing their achievements. Automated platforms carried items and documents through the halls, their paths directed by invisible enchantments.
The estate's modern amenities didn't diminish its grandeur; rather, they enhanced it, blending the legacy of the Viserion family with the technological advancements of the mana-fueled age.
We were guided to a room designed for formal meetings. The chamber was sleek and minimalist, its walls lined with smooth panels that reflected the soft amber light from a floating chandelier above. The chandelier itself was a marvel—an array of interwoven lightning and fire runes that gave off a warm, flickering glow, as if the room were illuminated by a controlled storm.
Seated at the center of the room was a middle-aged man with neatly combed orange hair and sharp, calculating eyes under steel eyeglasses. He was dressed impeccably in a tailored suit of black and gold, the Viserion family crest—a roaring dragon entwined with a bolt of lightning—embroidered on his lapel. His presence, though lacking in raw mana, exuded authority.
'So, not a Viserion,' I thought, my expectations shifting slightly. It wasn't uncommon for noble families to delegate initial negotiations to trusted aides, but it still highlighted how seriously—or not—they were taking this meeting.
The man stood as we entered, offering a polite bow. "Welcome to the Viserion estate. My name is Lenny, personal secretary to His Majesty, the King of the South." His voice was calm and measured, a perfect match for his composed demeanor.
"Thank you for having us," I replied, inclining my head. "I'm Arthur Nightingale, Guild Master of Noctalis. This is Tyra, one of our leading engineers and specialists."
Tyra gave a polite nod, though her eyes were scanning the room with unabashed curiosity. Despite Lenny's unassuming mana signature, the fact that he held such a position in the Viserion household suggested he was a figure of considerable influence. I would need to tread carefully here.
Lenny gestured for us to sit. "We understand you've come with a proposal of some importance," he said, his tone professional but not unkind. "The King himself regrets he couldn't attend this meeting but has entrusted me to hear you out."
A deliberate move. It meant they were interested enough to entertain the idea but not enough to commit the King's time. Yet.
I took my seat, Tyra following suit. The chairs were plush, their fabric warm to the touch, likely enchanted for comfort. A small gesture, but a calculated one—everything here seemed designed to make visitors feel simultaneously at ease and out of their depth.
"Indeed," I said, my tone measured. "What I bring to the table isn't just another product or partnership. It's a material that could redefine industries and economies. Aetherite."
Lenny's eyebrows lifted slightly, the only crack in his composed façade. "Aetherite?" he echoed.
"Yes, aetherite, a superior alternative to beast blood and parts for mana-tech," I replied. "My guild has already established mining operations on the moon. We're the first to do so, and the first to process aetherite into usable forms. Its potential is unparalleled—potions, artifacts, mana circuits. Everything it touches becomes exponentially more efficient, more powerful."
Tyra leaned forward, her voice eager as she added, "We've developed prototypes of SSS-rank potions using aetherite. The cost of production is significantly lower than traditional methods, and the results far surpass anything the current market can offer."
Lenny's eyes narrowed slightly, the gears in his mind clearly turning. "And you're seeking… what? Investment? Distribution? Collaboration?"
"All of the above," I said smoothly. "The Viserion family is uniquely positioned in the South. Your influence in trade and your unparalleled expertise in mana-driven technology make you the ideal partner."
Lenny steepled his fingers, his gaze piercing. "And what do you offer in return?"
"A monopoly," I said simply, letting the weight of the word settle. "Exclusive access to aetherite-derived technology for the Southern continent. No other guild, family, or organization will have what you will."
The silence stretched, the gravity of my words hanging in the air. Lenny leaned back in his chair, a small, thoughtful smile tugging at his lips. "An intriguing offer, Mr. Nightingale. One that warrants further discussion."
And with that, the stage was set.
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Arthur and Tyra left the grand chamber of the Viserion estate with the quiet confidence of a deal almost sealed. As the heavy, rune-etched doors closed behind them, Lenny remained seated, his usual composed demeanor slipping away. He let out a long sigh and removed his glasses, setting them gently on the intricately carved obsidian desk before reclining on the plush couch.
"Aetherite," he murmured, the word tasting unfamiliar yet oddly inevitable. "So humanity discovered it in 2046 this time around."
The room seemed to respond to his words, the faint hum of mana circuits in the walls growing louder for a moment before settling back into their steady rhythm. Lenny leaned back, his human form feeling stifling, constrictive, as though he were a dragon forced to wear the skin of a common beast.
"Being in a human form is endlessly tedious," he muttered, his voice carrying a low, resonant timbre that seemed far too vast for the room. The air around him shimmered, bending under the weight of an invisible power. A ripple of distortion passed through the chamber, and in an instant, the space twisted.
He did not walk to the King of the South's private office; instead, reality itself folded, depositing him in the opulent room in a heartbeat. Marcus Viserion, the King of the South, stood behind a desk made of black marble veined with gold. The desk was a masterpiece of mana-forged craft, glowing softly with enchanted sigils that reflected the power of the Viserion lineage.
The moment Marcus felt the shift in the air, he rose to his feet and immediately knelt. His fiery red hair caught the golden light streaming in through the room's floor-to-ceiling windows, and his robes of royal blue and crimson swirled around him as he bowed deeply.
"I greet the Radiant Dragon, the Guardian of the Viserion family, Sir Tiamat," Marcus intoned, his voice both reverent and steady.
Tiamat waved a hand dismissively, the gesture languid yet imbued with the kind of authority that came from millennia of existence. "You can dispense with the formalities, Marcus. I find them dull."
Marcus hesitated, his pride as King momentarily at odds with his reverence for the ancient dragon whose very existence had birthed his family's power. But respect won out. This was Tiamat, the dragon whose bloodline still pulsed faintly in the veins of every Viserion, the primordial being who had guided the family through countless generations.
Tiamat stretched slightly, his human guise rippling as though it struggled to contain the sheer immensity of his true form. He glanced around the room with faint amusement, his gaze settling briefly on the vibrant mana crystal centerpiece of the chamber—a gift from a Viserion ancestor centuries ago.
"But sir," Marcus ventured, his tone cautious, "may I ask why you chose to meet Arthur Nightingale yourself? Noctalis is a rising power, yes, and their ventures on the moon are ambitious. But is that alone reason enough for your direct intervention?"
Tiamat turned his gaze to Marcus, his jade-green eyes carrying an unfathomable depth, as though they held the weight of eons. For a moment, he said nothing, letting the silence stretch just long enough for Marcus to feel its gravity.
"The boy is no ordinary Guild Master," Tiamat finally said, his voice resonating with a power that seemed to echo through the room itself. "He is an anomaly in the weave of fate, a figure whose actions will ripple far beyond what even I can see. And this aetherite he has discovered…" He paused, his expression unreadable. "It is not merely a tool for human advancement. It is a catalyst, one that can alter the balance of power across this fragile world."
Marcus frowned, his respect for Tiamat warring with his confusion. "Then should we not tread carefully? Aetherite could upset the equilibrium among the continents, perhaps even invite conflict."
Tiamat let out a low chuckle, the sound like the rumble of distant thunder. "Marcus, this world is already on the brink of upheaval. War is inevitable, as it always has been. But this material… it offers a chance, however slim, for humanity to stand against what lies beyond."
He turned, walking to the window, his presence casting a faint distortion in the air around him. Outside, the sprawling Viserion estate gleamed in the late afternoon sun. The blend of tradition and modernity was evident everywhere. Elegant courtyards with fountains of liquid fire were interspersed with gleaming mana-powered transport platforms. Holographic displays floated above the estate, broadcasting the latest developments from across the continent. Above it all, a grand tower loomed, its apex crowned with an eternal lightning storm—a testament to the Viserion mastery of fire and lightning.
"Agree to Arthur's terms," Tiamat said at last, his gaze fixed on the storm. "This partnership will be good for your family, and more importantly, for the world."
Marcus hesitated only a moment before bowing deeply once more. "As you command, Sir Tiamat."
Tiamat turned his head slightly, a faint, enigmatic smile playing on his lips. "Good. Let us see how this game of mortals unfolds." With a flick of his wrist, the space around him twisted again, and he was gone, leaving Marcus alone in the room, his mind swirling with the weight of the dragon's words.
Status Power Mingguan
-- Peringkat
Power 
-- Power
stone