As Faust observed his friend, a sudden surge of powerful energy made him stiffen. Instinctively, he began to scan his surroundings. Aaron, who had been joking moments before, also sensed the presence and drew his sword. A voice rang out from the air.
"Ah, there you are! I've been looking for you two."
The tension eased as Faust and Aaron recognized the voice of their old friend. Emerging from the shadows was Derek, another mage they had often associated with in their younger days. Full of excitement, Derek wasted no time delivering his news.
"You two shouldn't be lounging around . The Emperor of Pamir… well, let's just say something big is happening."
Derek's story was astonishing, enough to pique even their aging ears. Despite their declining vitality, the tale was impossible to ignore.
"So, what you're saying is, we should go after the Emperor?" Aaron asked, his tone laced with curiosity.
Derek nodded solemnly. "Exactly. Old men like us have nothing left to lose. None of us can push our limits any further. What do you say? Shall we go together?"
Faust fell silent, his mind racing. As he aged, his magical prowess seemed to wane, and the prospect of achieving higher mastery felt increasingly out of reach. Aaron shared the same sentiment. After a brief exchange of glances, they nodded in agreement.
"We can't sit this one out. We'll join you," Aaron declared.
Similar scenes were unfolding across the Rubell continent. Spurred by rumors of the Emperor of Pamir possessing a secret to immortality and rejuvenation, an "Elder Expedition" began to take shape, driven by hope and desperation.
Michael, on the other hand, was overjoyed by the overwhelming flood of responses his scheme had generated. Inspired by a tale involving Crown Prince Oswald, he had crafted this plan, and the results far exceeded his expectations. The rumor that the Emperor of Pamir held a miraculous life-extension technique and maintained his youth through its use spread like wildfire.
Elders, who had previously secluded themselves to focus solely on personal cultivation, began emerging from their isolation, abandoning their long-held disciplines. The mere suggestion of a chance to extend their lifespans was enough to compel them to leap into action.
Even Charles V, who had always maintained a distant relationship with Michael and Duke Capone, sent an encouraging letter full of warmth and praise. This alone hinted at the scale of Michael's success.
Michael's objective was clear: gather reclusive masters, incite distrust and discord within the Empire, and ultimately assassinate the Emperor. By placing the comparatively inept Oswald on the throne, the benefits would be boundless.
Unaware of Michael's true intentions, Crown Prince Oswald looked at him with worry-filled eyes. Oswald knew the secret behind his father's method of extending life—it was a forbidden art that defied the heavens—and the potential fallout terrified him.
"Count Michael, isn't this getting out of hand? If the truth comes to light, there will be chaos…" Oswald murmured anxiously.
Michael shook his head. For him, the worse the reputation of the Pamir Empire became, the better. Still, there was no need to tell Oswald that.
"This is the only way to bring your father down," Michael replied smoothly. "Think of it positively. A man who uses such vile techniques must die for the continent to find peace."
It was a strange logic, but Oswald reluctantly gave up trying to persuade Michael otherwise. After all, his own survival depended on his father's death.
Sensing Oswald's resignation, Michael leaned in and added softly, "Your father is said to have gathered every life-prolonging technique across the continent. Surely, there's something among them that will appeal to these warriors. They'll leave satisfied once they get what they came for."
This was true. The Emperor, who had feared death to an obsessive degree since his youth, had collected every known life-extending method, enough to fill an entire library.
"That's true. I just hope everything goes well…" Oswald sighed.
Michael smiled. It didn't matter; he would ensure that things worked in his favor.
"When it does, don't forget our agreement."
Avoiding Michael's gaze, Oswald lowered his head. How had it come to this? he wondered bitterly. The terms of their deal haunted him—assisting Michael in killing his father and ascending to the throne, in exchange for ceding a portion of the Empire's territory.
"Fine. I gave my word and staked my life on this contract. I'll honor it," Oswald muttered.
Watching Oswald's dejection, Michael smirked internally. If only you knew, he thought. If you realized I was a forgotten descendant of the Kingdom of Xerx, you'd never have made this deal.
In the corner of the room, Michael's cat, Miaomiao, stared at him incredulously, as if in disbelief. Michael glanced at the feline and frowned.
Politics, after all, was a game of deception. If people from the same country deceived one another, what harm was there in tricking the Crown Prince of a rival nation?
The weather was nothing short of perfect. The biting chill that regularly visited during the nights had transformed into a gentle warmth, and the trees swayed lightly, showing off their lush greenery.
In such splendid weather, Michael was grooming his horse, Bucephalus. The black, glossy-coated steed snorted softly, enjoying his master's gentle and meticulous touch, his eyes half-closed in contentment.
With time left before the hidden masters of the Rubell Continent were due to gather, Michael took the rare opportunity to enjoy a tranquil afternoon. Between constant battles and political maneuvering, he had hardly ever found time to rest. Now, as he basked in this momentary reprieve, he felt as though all the burdens weighing on his soul had momentarily washed away.
As he slowly brushed Bucephalus's sleek coat, Michael allowed himself to forget, even if briefly, about the wars, conspiracies, and struggles for power that consumed his life. Yet, deep down, he knew this peaceful time would not last, and a sigh escaped his lips.
"A life , living peacefully among animals, wouldn't be so bad," he thought. But the idea of abandoning everything for such a dream seemed impossible. There were too many goals yet to be achieved, and without fulfilling them, true peace would remain elusive. The weight of countless lives resting on his shoulders often robbed him of sleep.