Chapter 1161: Audience

The large chamber resembled a throne room like Yselio’s celestial court more than anything you’d expect to see in a Cosmic Vessel. It was wrought from stone, with massive twenty-meter pillars hanging identical banners. Elite soldiers in exquisite gear lined the walls, seemingly blind to the tense atmosphere in the room. Instead of a throne, Zac stood before a large, multilayered dais surrounded by dozens of attendants and officials.

It had only been a few minutes since the enormous warship appeared before Zac. It had sealed space before pulling him into a hatch where a dozen Late Hegemons waited. Zac had been ready to fight for his life, but the familiar sigil emblazoned on their surcoats made Zac stay his hand. They were members of the Dravorak Imperial Guard.

Seeing that it wasn’t the Imperials of the Seven Heavens or some other outsider faction was great news, but it didn’t mean Zac was out of the woods. The Dravorak’s stance was unclear, and they were currently in a remote corner of space. It wasn’t unthinkable they’d target him without considering their connection with the Havarok Dynasty.

Yrial’s hardships were ample proof you couldn’t trust the benevolence of orthodox factions. Forces similar to the Dravorak Empire had hunted Yrial for centuries because of lesser treasures than those in Zac’s hand. Unfortunately, he hadn’t been able to glean anything from the guards on their way over. They almost acted like automatons, ignoring his questions with expressionless faces.

Even now, Zac didn’t know what to make of the situation, though it was a relief to find Emily and the others seated to the side. They were in good condition with a feast set up before them. Zac noted with interest that both Galau and Bubbur had changed their clothes to the gear of the Acheron Company. He understood Emily’s intentions, which were perfectly in line with his ideas.

In a perfect world, he would have swooped up all of them, but Zac knew it was impossible. The Muscle Brigade already had a place to call home, and just getting Bubbur was a surprise. Besides, they needed to get off the ship before he could worry about recruitment.

Despite their precarious situation, the burly soldiers had clearly not held back on the hospitality. A boozy haze surrounded the former castaways, and some of the men standing around the raised platforms had disgusted looks on their faces when glancing their way. Right now, none of the soldiers were drinking, and their eyes were clear as they observed the stand-off.

It was obvious the officials were split into two camps, where a clear majority looked at him with animosity. Zac didn’t care about their hostile gazes, even if most of them had cultivations surpassing his. What mattered was the attitude of the man sitting in the seat of honor.

The central position was occupied by a stalwart middle-aged man with a strong military aura. Prostez Dravorak, or the Everfast Monarch as he was more commonly known. He wore an unadorned uniform, though Zac could tell all his accessories were incredibly valuable Tool Spirits.

A sheathed sword was lying by his side, and Zac could feel the dense, bloody aura even through the isolating scabbard. Verun’s Bite had seen an extraordinary amount of carnage, but Zac could tell it was nothing compared to how many lives the Everfast Monarch’s weapon had reaped.

The Field Marshall of the Twenty-Sixth lived up to his name. Unfortunately, his attitude was inscrutable. He was unmoving as a statue with his eyes closed like he’d shut out the world. It almost felt like he was unwilling to get involved with the situation before him.

Technically, he was the ultimate authority on this section of the frontlines, but Zac knew the situation wasn’t quite that simple. If nothing else, there was no way the Everfast Monarch was the real owner of the vessel they were aboard. It was one of the few C-grade Vessels in Zecia, and its quality almost seemed to match those of his own.

Certainly, its ancient air meant it might have been a lucky discovery inside some remnant, but it wouldn’t be Prostez’s turn to get such a ship. He was strong enough to surpass most of Zecia’s faction leaders, but at least four Monarchs within the Dravorak Dynasty were stronger than he.

Zac felt it was more likely the ship belonged to someone else. His gaze shifted to the other person on the central dais, a woman whose features were obscured by a muslin veil. She was demurely sitting a few meters from the Everfast Monarch; her eyes also closed in meditation. Her role, strength, and status were unclear. Zac only knew she was unlikely to be the Monarch’s Dao Companion, as the noblewomen of the Dravorak Dynasty rarely dressed in clothing that made Zac think of the Void Star’s nuns.

The Dravorak Dynasty was a faction with a strong martial tradition, one which covered all its citizens. A talented general like the Everfast Monarch would at least be matched with a peak D-grade Marshall with impressive military feats. She’d be wearing the army uniform of the Dravorak Royal Guard or some similar designation, and her position on the dais would be based on her own rank and contributions.

In contrast, this woman felt more like a servant, though no servant would be allowed to sit in such an esteemed position. Not to mention, Zac sensed an intangible pressure from her, despite her not releasing even a speck of aura or energy. Most likely, she was another Monarch, possibly one stronger than the Everfast Monarch himself.

A reasonable explanation was that she was the guardian of the trio of Havarok noblemen sitting on the dais’ third layer. All were Hegemons with the tell-tale purple irises common in the Havarok Empire. Zac’s eyes were involuntarily drawn to the familiar face on the right. It was Ykrodas Havarok, the princeling he loosely cooperated with inside the Twilight Ocean. He looked back at Zac with a complex expression, and for good reason.

The last time they saw each other, Zac had been channeling the full power of his remnants, and he’d killed Uona by forming a glimpse of Chaos. Such an encounter would leave a shadow on anyone’s heart. The events also led to disastrous losses for the Havarok Empire because of the Umbri’Zi Clan’s scheme. A scheme Zac had no part in yet ended up taking part of the blame for.

Their leader was likely a peak Middle Hegemon, and he shared many similarities with Ykrodas. However, he gave off a very different air, wearing a mask of haughty indifference Zac had seen on people like Valsa. Of course, he had grounds to be arrogant, boasting a stronger aura than any Zecian Middle D-grade Cultivator or Kan’Tanu Remoulded Zac had encountered. Most likely, only the Reincarnators of the Seven Kan’Tanu Chapters could match up to him.

However, Zac could tell he was a significant step below Middle D-grade Cultivators like Yselio or Kator. He was strong by frontier standards, but not enough to stand out in the Multiverse Heartlands.

Most of the officials on the ground gravitated toward the three youths, which was expected considering the Dravorak Dynasty was in a similar situation as the Kavriel Province. However, their connection was even more tenuous. The Havarok Dynasty couldn’t be bothered with their distant branch at all. That was, until they suddenly became useful.

A quarter of the attendants were gathered around the platform on the opposite side of the Everfast Monarch. On top of it sat four valiant soldiers, all solidly in Peak D-grade. Zac hadn’t seen them before, but it wasn’t hard to recognize them. They were the strongest generals under the Everfast Monarch and his right-hand men.

Their leader’s aura even emitted a heavy pressure that reminded Zac of his spar with Pavina. The weight of a world. In other words, he had already taken the first step toward Monarchy by opening a proto-space within his Cosmic Core.

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

Opening a proto-space wasn’t the only path to the C-grade. One could even say it wasn’t the right one, since it apparently limited the Inner World’s size and potential. Furthermore, taking that step was irreversible. If this general failed to open an inner world within 1,000 years or so, the proto-space would collapse, destroying the Cosmic Core and taking his life.

Despite the downsides, almost all Monarchs on the frontier used this method instead of the orthodox paths. After all, it split the breakthrough into two steps with a consolidation period between them, which drastically lowered the difficulty. And if you survived opening the proto space, you’d enjoy a millennia of Half-step power.

For all Zac knew, the general might have had zero confidence in breaking through to Monarchy yet chose to open the proto space to gain a burst of power. Unfortunately, this was a far too common occurrence among Zecia’s Peak Hegemons. Only a vanishingly small number of Zecian Peak Hegemons would normally consider Monarchy.

The heritages, environment, and opportunities were not good enough on the frontier for more than a very limited number of Monarchs to appear. In contrast, reaching Peak Hegemony was enough to live a life of abundance and luxury for nearly 100,000 years. Why take the risk, considering failure meant death?

The war had changed everything. Death was suddenly waiting around every corner, and the Limited Exchange provided access to treasures that would never appear in Zecia. A large number of Hegemons chose to take the gamble. If they survived, they could rely on their proto spaces to drastically speed up their merit accumulation. Perhaps they could even cross that hurdle they hadn’t dared dream of before.

But the house always wins. The Alliance lost hundreds of Peak Hegemons for every Half-step Monarch they gained. And of those who crossed the threshold, only a handful would succeed in taking the next step before their time was up. It absolutely wasn’t worth it, considering hundreds of Peak Hegemons were much more useful than one Half-step Monarch.

Among the four generals, only one seemed hostile toward him. The others were either smiling or neutral. They had probably heard of his accomplishes and were unwilling to hand him over to the Havarok princelings. But could their opinions change anything?

This situation was exactly what Zac had worried about and why he wanted to move the Acheron Company from the Twenty-sixth to the Thirty-seventh Field Army. Zac’s gaze returned to the two atop the central square. Curiously enough, the veiled woman sat closer to the friendly camp, though she seemed removed from either clique.

The silence was oppressive. Zac didn’t speak up, either. He was waiting to see the attitude of those in the middle. Finally, one of the generals shook his head with a wry smile. He looked quite unassuming and humble, but he had an intelligent gleam in his eyes. Judging by Tussar’s descriptions, he should be Warlin, one of the main strategists of the Twenty-sixth.

“We’re happy to see you’re safe and sound, Lord Atwood,” Warlin smiled. “The Marshall was quite worried when the connection broke and we failed to reconnect.”

“Must have been the work of the tower,” Zac said with a staid expression. “The spatial turbulence is quite strong.”

“So it is,” the strategist nodded, not bothering to call him out on his lie. “The young heroes here just finished their report.”

“Destruction of a valuable relic. Dereliction of duty. Treason,” the man next to Ykrodas said.

Zac threw the man a lazy look, somewhat certain of his identity. It should be Ardos Havarok, who once held the eighth spot on the Early D-grade ladder. He was pushed down to the tail of the top ten when Zac registered with his two identities. Since then, he’d kept losing positions and was now in the 23rd spot. Judging by the hatred in his eyes, it almost felt like he blamed Zac for his fall from grace.

“This is one creative bastard, turning white into black,” Bubbur muttered, completely indifferent to the murderous looks from the Havarok Camp’s officials.

“More like brain damaged,” Emily added.

A smile tugged at Zac’s lips. The two weren’t oblivious to the situation they were in. They had intentionally thrown a rock into the calm lake to show Zac the ripples, and it confirmed Zac’s suspicions. The Havarok Dynasty were supposed to be the superiors of the Dravorak Empire and had the numbers on their side. Despite that, these scions were clearly restrained.

Ardos looked ready to unleash a massacre but suddenly stopped and looked away.

“We did the best of a bad situation,” Zac smiled. “It’s a shame you guys weren’t around to help us. Might have ended differently then.”

“Indeed. While it’s regrettable that the fortress couldn’t be brought under the Alliance’s control, you all performed valiantly. Even if the Centurion Spear fails to achieve its goals, it’ll be impossible for our enemies to turn the weapon against us,” the strategist nodded. Nw novel chapters are publshed on NovlFire(.)nt

“You’re the guy who sells those ships?” another general suddenly interjected. He was human yet bigger than Billy and looked like he’d fit right in with the Muscle Brigade. It was Tusko, the ‘Twenty-sixth’s Iron Wall.’ With Warlin, he was one of the two generals seemingly on his side. “The ones with the dynamic energy weapons.”

“That’s me,” Zac said.

“Those little skippers are amazing. You have any more?” Tusko said, leaning forward with anticipation.

“Unfortunately, no,” Zac sighed.

The general sighed with disappointment, and a few hostile officials began muttering about greed and insubordination. However, a blue screen made them choke on their complaints.

“But as you can see, I’m pretty close to upgrading the Shipyard to Middle D-grade. It will increase my production capacity, so I might have another answer for you in a couple of months.”

The screen was the Mercantile Empire quest with some details obfuscated for privacy. However, it was clearly visible that his quest progress was at 1,858

/2,000 and 3793

/4000. He was right at the finish line, though he also needed to upgrade the Atwood Empire to a Middle D-grade faction.

“Shipyard upgrade?” Tusko roared as he shot to his feet, his eyes veritably burning. “Does that mean you’ll sell Middle D-grade Cosmic Vessels? Will they have as high quality? Can they take on Late D-grade destroyers?”

“Yes,” Zac succinctly said.

It was one word, but it held great conviction. Tusko drew a sharp breath and tugged at the strategist’s sleeve. The hostile officials looked apprehensive, while the Havarok princes frowned with displeasure. More importantly, it was enough for the Everfast Monarch to finally open his eyes.

That was exactly why Zac shared the shipyard quest. Time was too short to get any response to his calls for aid. And even if they answered, what could the other factions do now that he was ‘a guest’ of the Dravorak Dynasty? That meant his shipyard was his greatest lifeline, and its upcoming upgrade could be the key to pushing a conflicted Everfast Monarch into his camp.

“Troubled times create capable leaders,” the Everfast Monarch said, his voice a perfect match to the one from the communicator. “Your contribution to the cause is great.”

“I’m embarrassed to hear such praise from the Everfast Monarch,” Zac said with a bow, inwardly celebrating the stormy expressions on the Havarok dais.

“There’s no need to address me in such a cumbersome manner. Just call me Prostez,” the man said. “The others told us you stayed behind to secure the activation. Can you tell us what happened?”

Zac hesitated a moment. He didn’t know what these people already knew. He wanted to glance at Emily for some cues, but it was suddenly as though he couldn’t see anything but the dais. Prostez or someone else was using an ability to prevent him from corroborating with the others.

“There’s not much to say. A powerful outsider broke into the Command Center as we were wrapping up. I had the others go ahead while I tried to hold him back. Things worked out, but I blacked out for a couple of minutes. After that, I barely managed to escape with my life intact.”

“What happened with the outsider?” Prostez asked.

“He should be dead.”

“You killed an Imperial Prince from the Heartlands!” Ardos Havarok sneered, his face a mix of suspicion and victory. “How dare you stand here after betraying our race!”

“Betrayed my race?” Zac scoffed, though he was inwardly worried.

So they’d already figured out Yselio’s real identity. Zac didn’t think anyone from the Muscle Brigade had willingly ratted him out, but hiding secrets in front of such a powerful group of cultivators was easier said than done. Zac had already entered his Void State, so he didn’t give anything away with a careless word or expression, but that didn’t guarantee anything.

“Humans are everywhere,” Zac said. “Most of those cultist bastards are humans, too. Are you saying they’re our allies?”

“Humans are everywhere because of the hard work and protection from humanity’s leaders, like the Seven Imperial Heavens. How dare you conflate them with unorthodox heretics!” Ardos retorted. “Then again, I guess we shouldn’t be surprised at your lack of fidelity. After all, can a miscreation like you even be considered human? You’re more comfortable among the other unholy things, aren’t you, Arcaz Umbri’Zi?”

Zac inwardly groaned when he saw the expressions of the other Havarok scions. Ykrodas still looked conflicted, with a hint of annoyance, but their leader had no change in expression. He was clearly the one fanning on Ardos from the shadows. Zac had been uncertain of the Havarok’s stance since they’d completely ignored him since they appeared in Zecia.

He was painfully aware now.