Chapter 128: The Coming Storm

Malrik shook those thoughts from his head. Moongrave was currently out of his calculations. He was left with only three viable options.

Ironreach and Goldenveil were regions with excellent sources of income. The gold and silver mines alone were enough to make their ruler obscenely wealthy, and Goldenveil was even more profitable thanks to its gold mines, even if its taxes were higher.

However, there was a problem. Malrik took one look at the map.

Choosing Goldenveil means being neighbors with the twins.

Malrik felt a slight headache beginning to form behind his eyes.

No, thank you.

It’s enough that we live in the same house and will soon be at the Academy together. If a dispute breaks out between us, I can’t guarantee those two lunatics won’t launch an attack on my territory just for fun.

Ironreach wasn’t as profitable as Goldenveil, but it still possessed a stable income source, and more importantly, it would keep him far away from the twins.

But did Malrik desperately need money in the first place? He had just received five thousand platinum coins from the Duke.

And a single platinum coin was worth one hundred gold coins, meaning his current wealth amounted to five hundred thousand gold coins. That was a massive fortune, and it was more than enough to make him ignore the income difference between the two regions.

Malrik’s eyes shifted across the map and immediately settled on the third dot.

Dreadmoor.

Constant Morvyth attacks? Bandits?

For any noble, that region would be akin to hell. But for him?

That is exactly what I need.

Dreadmoor would provide him with a constant supply of corpses.

Malrik remembered his previous conversation with Lilith about the methods that could help him retain as many skills as possible and convert them into Original Skills.

She had advised him then to choose the most difficult promotion tasks, as their difficulty directly and permanently increased his soul power.

If the conditions are similar to my previous rank advancement... then I will need to fill all 250 of my contracts with souls of a higher rank than mine.

Whether they are from the Fallen rank... or the Ascendant.

Malrik currently had 250 soul contracts, but he only possessed six souls at the Fallen rank.

Biggie, the Black Raven, the Lizard, Winter, Lady Mushroom, and of course Lokris.

Only six souls out of two hundred and fifty contracts.

If I want to continue increasing my strength, I will need more souls of a higher rank than me... a lot of them.

And Dreadmoor is the perfect place to get them.

Malrik raised his head, and his eyes met his father’s steady gaze. He remained silent for a moment, then turned his head slightly before breaking the silence.

"There is one thing I want to be certain of, Father, before I choose."

The Duke stopped flipping through his papers. He raised his emerald eyes to Malrik, watching him for a moment before asking in his deep, manly voice "And what is that?"

"You spoke at length about Territorial Wars... I had no idea they were this common."

The Duke took a light breath, then sat up straighter before answering in a tone tinged with faint bitterness:

"You are right. They were not this common in the past. There had to be a strong reason and a series of complex approvals obtained before any Territorial War was permitted."

He paused for a moment, then added, "But now... that is no longer the case. You can declare a Territorial War for the most trivial of reasons, and those in power will not intervene to stop you."

Malrik knitted his brows, his surprise growing. "Then... what changed?"

The Duke stared into space for a moment, then returned his gaze to Malrik, as if carefully selecting his words. "It is because of the recent conflicts...there is no longer any guarantee that you can tell friend from foe."

Silence prevailed for a moment before the Duke continued in a cold tone:

"If every Duchy is forced to pick a side in a war, the Duchies that share borders with it will be the first to attack if it chooses to stand on the opposing side." " That is why every Duchy has begun fortifying its borders and exerting greater control over them, to secure the strategic positions that will become critically important when war breaks out."

Then, the Duke narrowed his emerald eyes. "Tell me... do you know how wars are fought among the major powers? Do you know who is truly thrown into the fight?"

Malrik answered, thinking the answer was obvious. "Of course. In a major war, it would be the Saints and Supremes... I think."

A mocking smile formed on the Duke’s lips, and he shook his head slightly.

"Quite the opposite. The first to be thrown into the war are Awakened like you, then Ascendants... to expand the influence of the powers they serve."

He paused for a moment, letting Malrik absorb this before continuing.

"As for Saints, they are rare assets that cannot be easily sacrificed. Losing one of them at the start of a war would be extremely costly for any side. But Awakened like you are far easier to replace."

The Duke raised his eyes directly to him. "As for the Supremes... they are the very last to enter the war."

The Duke fell silent for a moment, letting his words settle in his son’s mind.

"If we are dragged into war in any way...you will find yourself in an extremely difficult position. It is better that you prepare from now on, expand your lands on the borders, and build a powerful force under your command... a legion you can rely on."

Malrik slowly grasped his father’s words, and he felt the situation was far harsher and more dangerous than he had anticipated.

Wars began at the very bottom of the combat pyramid, with the weakest Rank that could be thrown onto the battlefield.

The Awakened.

As for the Mortals, those ordinary people who possessed no real power, they weren’t even factored into the equation. Their weakness was so profound that their presence on a battlefield between major powers was closer to absurdity.

The Awakened were the first to be pushed into the killing fields, like chess pieces moved by the hands of those above them. But... could they object?

Of course not.

That was the rule that had governed this cruel world from the very beginning: whoever holds the power has the right to impose their will, and whoever lacks it has no choice but to submit.

If you want to impose your will on the world, you must possess immense power to back that will.

Even if a direct clash erupted between the Black Empress and her brother, the Emperor... Malrik could not be certain that the Duke’s power alone would be enough to protect his entire family from the horrors of war.

Was the Duke strong?

Yes, of course. There was absolutely no doubt about that.

But did he possess enough strength to stand alone against four Duchies, the Imperial siblings, and on top of that, the Lumel Temple when everyone abandons their neutrality and aligns with one side?

Malrik didn’t have an answer to that.

In the end, every power has its limits.

If things truly worsened, the Duke might eventually be forced to align with whichever side he believed had the better chance of winning, even if that meant abandoning his current stance, as long as it guaranteed the survival of his family and followers.

But even that was a massive gamble, for the course of a war could not be predicted, no matter how clear the balance of power seemed.

And unfortunately, this was the bitter reality for anyone living in this dark world.

Damn you all... you power-obsessed lunatics.

Indignation flared in Malrik’s chest, but he didn’t allow it to show on his face.

If you have differences, settle them among yourselves away from us. Why do you drag everyone into your senseless conflicts?

In the end, he had only one truth imposing itself upon him.

Then I must become stronger... strong enough to overcome everyone who stands in my way.