There is a throne there, always waiting for its master.
"You have finally returned."
The castle "came alive" at Kane’s return. Their welcome was the first butler in a black tailcoat, with horns on his head, followed obediently by several maids in uniforms. When they saw the Spear of War in Kane’s hand, their eyes were full of reverence.
"They are my guests."
Kane clarified Ethan and Lindong’s identities to the butler.
Upon hearing this, the butler and maids entertained them with the highest standard of etiquette. Thᴇ link to the origɪn of this information rᴇsts ɪn 𝗇𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗅•𝖿𝗂𝗋𝖾•𝗇𝖾𝗍
Different from this ancient and backward world, this castle, whether in style or structure, seems more like a product of several epochs later. Tracing back through history, it was in the early Third Epoch that human civilization gave birth to this kind of magnificent yet dark architecture due to the evolution of faith in the Old Gods.
The craftsmanship of food and drink was the same.
Exquisite desserts filled the table, and the scenes inside the castle contrasted sharply with the collapsing world outside, while the butler and servants each performed their duties, ignoring the cracking sky.
After witnessing the dark energy behind the cracks, a question lingered in Ethan’s mind.
Is it really Kaisaros outside of the "Crystal Ball"?
Kane mentioned that after separating a part of his consciousness, Kaisaros fell into slumber. Now, the Father of War only has enough energy left to maintain the normal functioning of this world.
Ethan suddenly realized that since arriving at the abyss, all he knew about Kaisaros was based on rumors.
"Teacher, have you ever seen Kaisaros?"
In the vast banquet hall, only he and Lindong were the guests. After preparing the desserts, the maids elegantly curtsied before leaving, skirts in hand. Kane, holding the Spear of War, had gone to the throne between, ready to rewrite the story.
And what they had to do was wait.
"Never seen him, why do you ask?"
Lindong, in a good mood, held a cup of Earl Grey tea; the entire table was filled with her favorite sweets.
"What’s Kaisaros’s energy signature like?"
Up to now, every Old God Ethan knew had unique energy characteristics, Old Ba’s were red flesh creations, representing His distinctive artistic aesthetics, while Old An favored various mechanical constructs, with an energy form as blue as the ocean.
Only Kaisaros’s creations always seemed a bit odd to Ethan.
The black energy surging beneath the Warlord’s armor seemed too familiar, too similar to the imprint of Sincaro, the Master of Demons.
Especially when the "Crystal Ball" cracked open, revealing scenes where the energy’s similarity reached the level of twin brothers.
However, Ethan had seen the War Council elders’ facial markings in the dungeon, clearly a different "artistic style" from Sincaro’s followers.
"I’ve seen the battle methods of Kaisaros’s followers, half of their power comes from all kinds of weapons."
Lindong savored a bite of velvet cake, enjoying it with eyes narrowed, "When resisting the enemy, War Council elders summon weapons they personally forged. There’s a large furnace below the War Council for crafting weapons."
Armor, weapons, this is the inherent impression people have of Kaisaros’s followers.
"What about that black energy?"
"It should be their signature as well..."
This time Lindong’s tone lacked its previous certainty, "At least that’s how it was when I first saw them."
She knew what Ethan was thinking. Initially, upon arriving at the dungeon, she also felt that the battle style of Kaisaros’s followers, combined with that sinister-looking dark energy, was jarring, but since Kaisaros’s followers had no objections, it wasn’t her place to judge as an outsider.
In fact, she had no intention of meddling in these affairs.
"In other words, this situation has persisted for at least two years."
Ethan considered the ripples in the Earl Grey tea, his somewhat blurred reflection mirrored in the cup.
The rumbling outside the castle diminished slightly, as if some force was intervening in the world’s collapse.
No, after all, this was the territory of the Old Gods, among whom one, the Demon King, was known for intrigues and schemes.
Ethan did not think this was a coincidence.
The wait was long, the repair process continued from dawn to dusk. As the collapse stopped, the last crack was mended, and Kane on the throne finally opened his eyes.
He saw Ethan at once.
After all this, nothing was more relaxing than receiving an old friend’s blessing.
Kane had wandered through the imperial capital for so many years, yet it was hard to find someone who could be called a friend, and he had always shunned social interactions.
The destiny he bore would only bring disaster to others.
But now, he had rewritten the story penned by Kaisaros, finally breaking free from the predetermined fate, and from today onwards, he would live only for himself.
"How does the power of the Old Gods feel?"
Ethan asked with a smile.
At his friend’s reminder, Kane closed his eyes, for the first time carefully feeling the changes in his body. It was an indescribably wondrous feeling; he felt as if the world’s every move was under his control, an unprecedented freedom, and when he needed a ball of fire, the world would meet his expectations.