A faint mechanical hum could be heard in the Imperial Palace.
Since Bayern's defection, the Empire had, in theory, been cut off from its Magic Power supply and could no longer import more Collectors.
However, an unexpected seller had entered the business. Although they refused to reveal their name, there were only so many entities in the world capable of such a thing.
That was why William looked down on them. In the past, they were just a bunch of gloomy shut-ins hiding in towers, ruins, and caves. Now they were getting too big for their britches, but some old habits die hard.
But he didn't care.
Gregory didn't care either. Three words could describe him lately: filthy, drunk, and always smiling.
Whether the Emperor was discussing matters of state or having his dreams interpreted for the Empress, as long as the bastard Monk had a few drinks in him, there was nothing he wouldn't dare say. But even so, William II still placed an astonishing amount of trust in him.
