Chapter 365: The Empire’s Response [1]

They ate desserts while talking about other topics. Soren used the chance to tell her about Ryan’s arrival and what time it would be ok to take him to the academy, and so on.

Eventually, the dinner came to an end; however, there was no reply from the princess. Since it was already past nine, Zura decided to take her leave. She stood up, smoothing down her clothes before turning to face Soren and Ethea.

"Contact me right away if anything happens," she instructed, her voice laced with genuine concern. "Although we are going to meet up tomorrow at the appointed time, don’t hesitate to reach out if something comes up before then."

"We will," Ethea nodded. "Get home safely."

"Have a good night." Soren waved with his free hand.

"Mm, you two have a good night," Zura replied with a small wave, stepping out into the hallway as the door gently closed behind her.

Soren and Ethea turned back toward the living room. Soren made quick work of clearing away the empty plates and cleaning up the kitchen while Ethea helped him as much as she could with her significantly improved mental power. Once everything was settled, they went through their usual routine before heading off to bed as the long day drew to a close.

Soren told Ethea to go to sleep and that he would wake her up if Princess replied or anything happened. Ethea reluctantly agreed and went to ’sleep’.

Soren then asked Malakor to keep an eye on their surroundings and alert him if he sensed anything, good or bad, and began cultivating himself. However, he couldn’t bring himself to fully relax. Every ten minutes, he paused to check Ethea’s phone and scroll through the latest news feeds, staying alert for any development.

Just like that, five hours slipped by in constant vigilance. At around 2:30 AM, a notification finally lit up the screen. It was a reply from the Princess. Soren immediately set his phone aside and went over to wake Ethea, gently shaking her shoulder. She opened her eyes right away, and together, they read the message.

[Greetings, Ethea,] it read. [First, I must apologize for replying at such a late hour. I was tied up handling urgent matters regarding Kita City and the Outcasts."]

The text went on to reassure them.

[The overall situation is a bit complicated at the moment, but rest assured, under no circumstances will we hand over the captives to them. We will not comply with whatever demands they make. Furthermore, your involvement is being kept completely confidential on our end to ensure your protection... I will contact you again soon with more details. Stay safe.]

As soon as they finished reading, they looked at each other, their lips curling up.

"I knew we could trust the princess." Soren sighed in relief.

"Mmm." Ethea nodded and asked. "Is there any news about Kita City?"

Soren nodded, his expression turning grave as he recalled the late-night feeds. "Empire forces have completely surrounded the area, but the Outcasts dropped a pitch-black barrier over the whole sector. They’re threatening to tear the entire city apart the moment our troops make a single wrong move."

"I see..." Ethea muttered and fell silent. "...Since the problem seems to be solved, we should take a rest and prepare for tommo-I mean, the day ahead."

Soren chuckled and gave her a light kiss. ’Don’t forget to sleep, dear. Although your mind might be fine, your body still needs rest.’

’...Understood.’ Ethea smiled as their lips parted. ’Then I will go back to sleep now.’

’Mm. I will wake you up myself.’

Soren smiled, and only after confirming she had drifted off to real sleep did he sit back up. He then reached into his spatial storage and pulled out a fresh batch of mana stones, surrounding himself with their vibrant energy.

With threats closing in on every side, breaking through to the 5th Circle as fast as possible was no longer just a goal - it was essential for survival. He closed his eyes and began drawing the energy into his core. Thanks to the triple cultivation speed boost from their Eternal Bond, he absorbed the surrounding mana at a pace far beyond anything he had managed before. At the same time, his Core Refinement technique worked continuously, compressing and liquefying the rapid influx of power into pure, dense reserves.

’At this rate,’ Soren thought, feeling the immense volume of power surging through his channels, ’if I hit the Gates with Ryan this week, reaching the 5th Circle shouldn’t be an issue.’

With that in mind, he closed his eyes and plunged into deep cultivation.

───────

Meanwhile, in the capital city of the Temur Empire, Samarend, the highest-ranking individuals in the empire were gathered around a large round table. Generals in decorated uniforms, officials in formal robes, and a few holographic figures who were attending remotely from distant posts. The atmosphere was thick with tension.

"What are we even waiting for, and why are we wasting so much time?" A deep voice rumbled from the far end of the table, rough with age and agitation. "While they’re all in one place, we should crush them. I’ll lead the charge myself if I have to. Just give me enough barrier masters and spatial mages to protect the civilians from the fallout."

"And what fallout would that be?" Another voice cut in, each word placed carefully. "The one where the whole city burns? The one where they slaughter every hostage the moment we attack? You’re so eager to swing your sword that you’ve forgotten what’s at stake. We don’t even know how they took over the city and have the guts to act like they can kill everyone there easily."

"Then what do you suggest?" The first voice retorted.

"I think we should play along with their demands," the second voice replied. "We will negotiate, exchange the captives, and secure the safety of the city first. Once the barrier is down and the citizens are safe, we strike with everything we have and round up every last one of them."

"I think you meant we will let them slip right through our fingers." A third voice joined, mocking. "If we show them even a shred of compliance, they will take those captives and vanish into thin air. All the blood and effort we spent dragging those criminals into chains will be completely wasted. In fact, we hold the real leverage here. We should pull out their leader’s son and threaten to execute him on the spot unless they tear down that barrier and release the city."

"N-No!" The second voice snapped, dropping all its previous composure. "Are you out of your mind? Do you have any idea how insane those lunatics are? You try to threaten them with a hostage, especially their young master; they will not only surrender but also massacre every single person in that city, just to make a point."

"I agree with him," one of the holographic figures chimed in. "The Outcasts do whatever they want, and they don’t care about consequences that much. Threatening the boy will only accelerate the destruction of the city."

"So what then? We just sit on our hands while they dictate terms to the entire Empire?" The first voice’s owner, an old general, slammed his heavy palm down on the round table, making the tactical projections jitter. "Every minute we waste bickering in this room gives them more time to fortify their position. If we give them back their people, we lose all our leverage for good!"

"..."

"..."

The argument went back and forth with no sign of resolution. Voices rose, fists struck the table, and the holographic figures flickered as their owners argued. Only a few people kept silent throughout the discussion, their eyes fixed on the head of the table where a figure sat with an unreadable expression.

It was a middle-aged man wearing robes of deep gold with intricate embroidery running along the collar and sleeves. He sat perfectly still, back straight, hands resting on the armrests of his throne-like chair. His face was angular, with a strong jaw and a nose that looked like it had been broken once and set well. His pale golden eyes, like molten glass, were fixed on the argument unfolding before him, without a hint of what he was thinking.

On his head rested a crown that caught the eye the moment you looked at him, its design evoking the image of a rising sun without directly depicting it.

"..."

He narrowed his eyes, tracking the escalating noise across the room, and tapped his index finger once against the surface of the table.

In an instant, the room fell silent, as though every voice had been swallowed whole. The generals, who had been shouting moments earlier, froze mid-sentence, mouths still open and forming words, but no sound emerged.

Realizing what had happened, a few swallowed hard while the others straightened in their chairs, suddenly aware of how out of line they had been.

All eyes locked onto him.

"..."