Chương 415: The Weight of Ambition
Returning to Mythos Academy after weeks of ceaseless labor felt like stepping into a different world. The grand towers of the academy rose against the skyline, their silhouettes a reminder of the place where ambition and power collided. A faint hum of mana echoed in the air, blending seamlessly with the buzz of students preparing for the upcoming Sovereign's Tournament.
I exhaled as I passed through the gates. The familiar sights and sounds should have been comforting, but instead, they felt like a prelude to an even larger storm. My time away hadn't been a vacation—far from it. With both Jin and Kali immersed in their classes, I'd borne the brunt of the responsibilities as Guild Master of Noctalis. Endless decisions, negotiations, and logistical nightmares had piled up. Managing a guild was one thing; shaping it into a titan capable of shaking the Twelve Great Guilds was another beast entirely.
Now, though, the gears were in motion. I'd pushed the boulder up the hill; it was time to let it roll. Kaelion and his team were already hard at work building the processing factory on the moon. The blueprints I'd spent countless sleepless nights perfecting had been handed over, and the first batch of processed aetherite would soon be making its way to Earth.
I still couldn't shake the sense of awe every time I thought about aetherite. A substance that bridged the gap between mana and the material world, capable of revolutionizing everything from potions to space travel. It wasn't just powerful; it was potential incarnate. If we played our cards right, it would reshape the market, the guilds, and perhaps even the political landscape of the Slatemark Empire.
The Tower of Magic had its role to play, of course, but I wasn't naive enough to rely on them alone. I'd already secured the Creighton family's help to establish a superior spatial pathway to the moon. Once the first batch of aetherite was in my hands, their ingenuity would make the pathway not just functional but groundbreaking. Aetherite's inherent stability meant that this pathway wouldn't just connect Earth to the moon—it would redefine interspatial travel as a whole.
From there, the pieces would fall into place. A corresponding system would be built on the moon to enable two-way travel. Aetherite products—elixirs with unmatched potency, runes that could hold mana for years, arrays capable of feats previously relegated to legend—would trickle into the market. Not enough to saturate it, of course; the supply was too limited for that. But as a premium option? The possibilities were staggering.
It was a classic move: create a new market, dominate it, and force the rest of the world to pivot around you. The Twelve Great Guilds would have no choice but to take notice. Noctalis wouldn't just rise to prominence—it would stand unchallenged at the throne of all guilds.
And yet, even as these plans crystallized in my mind, their ultimate purpose loomed larger. This wasn't just about power or prestige. It was about the Slatemark Empire itself. I had seen its future, fractured and bleeding, torn apart by the civil war that began with Valerian and Elara's engagement. A war that had once seemed inevitable, but one I was determined to prevent.
Noctalis would be my weapon, my shield, my bargaining chip. If I could elevate it to the pinnacle of influence, I could leverage its strength to end the engagement and unite the empire before the first spark of war could ignite.
For now, though, I needed to focus on the Sovereign's Tournament. Its proximity wasn't just a looming date on the calendar—it was a reminder that I had to be ready. The tournament wasn't merely a showcase of strength and skill; it was a stage where alliances were forged, rivalries deepened, and opportunities taken or lost.
And as for me? My own preparations awaited—threads carefully spun and set into motion, each one pulling Noctalis closer to its inevitable rise. The future of the Slatemark Empire hung precariously, balanced on a knife's edge. Civil war, chaos, the dissolution of everything I sought to protect—none of it was inevitable, not if I acted. Not if I won.
But here, at Mythos Academy, a different kind of battlefield awaited. A stage, polished and gleaming, where strength and will were tested in front of peers and rivals alike. The Sovereign's Tournament loomed, and though its stakes were smaller, its importance was undeniable. Power wasn't just about strength; it was about recognition, perception, and the ability to wield influence without even lifting a sword.
And I intended to win.
Of course, that wasn't exactly a tall order.
Lucifer was strong, sure. Too strong, perhaps, for his own good. But he wasn't my match. Not yet.
Still, strength wasn't the only thing at play here. Mythos Academy had rules, after all, and the privilege of Rank 1—the ability to skip classes, control schedules, and gain unrestricted access to academy resources—was far too valuable to relinquish. Not to mention the political leverage it granted outside these walls. Perception was a powerful tool, and I needed every weapon in my arsenal if I was going to steer this empire away from the brink.
So, I'd defend my position. Hold my place at the top. And along the way, I'd test the others—the so-called "elite" of this academy. The Sovereign's Tournament would be their proving ground, but for me? It was just another step in a much larger game.
"Let's see how much you've improved," I muttered, the words half-lost as I stretched out on my bed. The ceiling above me blurred into shadowed lines as exhaustion pressed down, the day's work catching up to me in waves.
The sheets were cool against my skin, the quiet hum of lights a distant murmur in the background. I closed my eyes, exhaling deeply, letting the weight of planning, strategy, and expectation slip from my shoulders. Just for a moment.
The stage was set. The pieces were moving. And as I drifted into sleep, the faintest smile curled on my lips.
The Sovereign's Tournament awaited.
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