Imperial Capital.
A place the old nobles would still mockingly call the "new capital". A strategic land surrounded by states that serves its purpose.
In a calm mansion, filled with maids and knights of different walks, an old man with glasses was seated on a balcony, reading while occasionally sipping tea.
The sun's shine seemed soft when it fell upon this old man.
Half of the hair on his head had turned grey. The skin around his eyes was wrinkled, but his complexion was sunny.
As though the marks of time on him didn't matter.
Then came a younger man, who looked very similar to the old man, save for the grey hairs and wrinkles.
"Father," The young man called.
"Yes, Calvin?" He replied but not before taking a sip of his tea. His eyes remained trained on the book before him.
Calvin paused, waiting for his father to drop the book. But even after a minute of waiting, this didn't happen.
"Father, why have you stopped the Inspectorate Corps from deploying men to Agard? It is clear that there is a dangerous cult operating there and from the look of things, they're about to succeed."
The old man continued reading his book, acting like his son's words were nothing but a breeze that caressed his ears.
Calvin frowned.
"Father, we are a family of military background. A long line of nobility, isn't it our job to protect the lands of the kingdom?"
"It is our job, when have we ever shied away from that?" The old man said lightly before placing a finger on his tongue and using it to flip the page of his book.
"Then why have you stopped the Inspectorate Corps from doing anything?" Calvin felt like kicking the book his father had in his hands.
"I didn't stop anyone from doing anything, I only gave advice. Getting involved in the strings sewn into Agard now would cause a lot of strife in the kingdom." He moved to take a sip from his cup, only to realize that the cup was almost empty.
He placed the cup on the table before him and gestured with his hand for Calvin to refill it.
Father, this isn't the time to be drinking tea!!
Despite his thoughts, Calvin moved to do as his father requested.
"If this cult successfully summons an Envoy or even an Eminence, that would give the kingdom a lot of headaches," Calvin commented.
His father chuckled lightly. "Even an Eminence of theirs isn't enough to topple Ulha. Have you forgotten the history of our lands?" He moved to sip his tea.
"Father, we have external enemies, Pertia at one corner, the Great Empire at another. Our forces are concentrated on the frontlines. Allowing instabilities from within can cause our downfall!"
"Hahaha! Calvin, did working in the Inspectorate for so long mess with your brain? The skies are larger than you see, and even larger than you think."
"Father!"
The old man's eyes moved so fast that Calvin felt like he had been hit by a rod in the head.
Calvin's body trembled, as he quickly apologized. "I'm sorry, my emotions got the best of me." He bowed.
The old man smiled and for the first time, dropped his book on the table. "Sit down, Calvin." He gestured at a chair opposite his.
"As my youngest son, you should be 27 years of age now, right?"
Calvin nodded.
"I guess you're old enough for a little bit more information now. But first, let me hear from you. Where do you think these cults come from? What is their origin?"
"They…" Calvin didn't seem to have an answer. It's not like he had never thought of this question before, however, he had always thought that it began with fanatics.
People who are so embroiled and engulfed with magic that they veer off the right path.
However, knowing his father, Calvin hesitated to voice this answer.
"What? Cat's got your tongue?" The old man chuckled. He enjoyed teasing this youngest child of his.
He was honest, and many times, a bit too simple. Nonetheless, he was pure of heart, and this trait, the old man appreciated in his son.
"I know… but I also don't know," Calvin muttered.
"My son, you should learn to trust your thoughts and your gut. What you have been taught about the origins of cults isn't totally wrong. I only asked to find out if you've questioned it before."
"Then?"
The old man looked towards the sunny sky and sighed. He raised his hands and clapped once.
A wave of soft energy flowed with the sound of his clap, enveloping the entire balcony.
No one could spy on them, and not a word from them would be heard by those on the outside.
"Try to shield your mind, the same way you've been taught in the Inspectorate on how to resist Devilish Intent." The old man advised.
Calvin did just that.
"People who veer off the right path aren't all cultists. Do you know what makes them cultists?"
"The one they follow," Calvin replied firmly.
"Yes, but why do they follow those beings? Faceless–the one who fuels agony, stealing the identities of souls and using them as a source of power.
Andromita–a being of war and ruler of our oceans.
Carlouses–Darkness incarnate.
These are the three main active and most powerful cults that have been in Ulha since its inception. Why is it only those three? It can't be that every unorthodox Mage would just up and choose to follow them, right?"
Calvin's gaze shifted several times as he tried to grasp what his father was trying to say.
After waiting a few seconds, the only man sighed again.
"Let me ask a different question. Do those beings exist? Faceless, Andromita, Carlouses, do they exist?"
"I… I-I don't think so. If they did, and they are as powerful as their followers believe they are, then this world would have long been destroyed." Calvin answered confidently.
The old man shook his head. "They do exist. They're even more powerful than most of their followers believe. If they didn't exist, who then has been sending those abominations called Mutants to descend upon our world?"
"I thought they were just drifting entities that are drawn by the power and tokens of sacrificial rituals."
"Partially true." The old man paused and looked up again. In his eyes, the clouds seemed to be turning dark. Whispers of intangible words from the winds reached his ears, only to be destroyed with a thought from him.
"I can't say much now. Calvin, do you think that we can also find a way to cross dimensions and attack the lands of these beings?"
This question, the young man had never thought of.
He shook his head, "No."
"How sure are you? Have you ever tried doing it?" His father smiled, knowing his son didn't have a concrete answer.
"Many old nobles wish for this. If we can do it, then perhaps Agard is a worthy trade."
Calvin's mind became conflicted. To sacrifice the lives of many for an uncertainty.
If it were true, then perhaps the trade was worthy… but what if it's not?
Unspeakable evil…
"If it is successful… Father, would the other Kingdoms see this as a chance to strike us when we're down? I suppose most of our troops will be sent to this other dimension." Calvin said, his heart still unsettled.
"Not most, but a good chunk. No one is really worried about that. If it is possible, then the other Kingdoms would love to join the expedition. His Majesty has already spoken to them and they have all agreed." The old man reached for his book, picking it off the table.
The soft wave of energy he created popped like a bubble. To him, this conversation had come to an end.
Nothing good would come from telling his son too much.
"As his Majesty's special advisor, did you object to this?"
The old man was just about to pick his cup up when the question came.
His hand paused all so subtly that one wouldn't be able to tell that he paused.
"I did object… and so did Daemon Sirdi. Look where I am now, in the so-called New Capital, while his Majesty remains in the Old Capital. I am his special advisor, but I haven't had an audience with him in over a decade.
"As for the advice I gave the Director of the Inspectorate Corps… there's no point in strongly investing in a case his Majesty has long allowed to happen. There's no need to end up like me. Save your strength for when it is needed, lest the wolves under the table smell blood and declare you food."
The old man returned to reading his book.
***
Agard.
Zach and the rest had just left Marcus's mansion, relaying the response of their backers to him.
They had claimed that they would send ample reinforcements, however, Marcus was well aware of how subpar their definition of ample was.
Nothing much had changed from the previous life, except that Veronica hadn't been in his mansion since he left.
She attended today's meeting, and after it was done, she left without saying a word.
Marcus found it a bit weird, but said nothing of it.
Since Brown had taken the day off, and Joshua was out on a mission, Floki and Logail took their positions and followed Marcus for the day.
They were heading into Daze.
Marcus had decided that he was going to test out his strength, and also, begin cultivating the Five Elements Arts.