Vlad could not help but frown at William’s revelation. It was one thing if the Zanis Association had a monopoly on the war equipnt trade thanks to genuine efficiency. There was nothing inherently wrong with a group that provided superior products at better prices, securing the market. But if other organizations were capable of doing a superior job at a lower cost, then sothing was clearly amiss.
Noticing Vlad’s interest, William did not leave him in suspense. He continued. "The reason they manage to keep such important military contracts, despite their shortcomings and the robust competition, is that they are the sole traders of Sky Dew. It’s the only mass-produced potion we have that can purge the chaotic energy of The Darkness."
The pieces fell into place for Vlad. The Depravita of Wrath had already learned that many treasures could repel or even negate the power of the Darkness. Still, most of them were rare, difficult to manufacture, and certainly not abundant enough to supply a fortress as large as a small country—one filled with millions of soldiers.
Sky Dew could be distributed on a massive scale, fulfilling the fortress’s constant need. With control over the fortress’s only source of healing from the chaotic energy of The Darkness, the Zanis Association held all the leverage they required to dictate the terms of trade.
While the tactic struck Vlad as despicable—especially given that the Golden Sky Fortress functioned as a shield for the entire Graecia Empire—he was not entirely surprised. From his prior experiences in Terra, before the apocalypse had ravaged the world, he knew all too well that wherever humans went, greed often followed. Alliances, monopolies, and underhanded dealings were just as much a part of history as wars and heroic sacrifices.
"Where there are humans, there is greed," the Depravita of Wrath muttered, his expression solemn as he let out a long sigh.
Privately, Vlad could not help but acknowledge that no matter what, he was probably destined to clash with the Zanis Association. After all, he was in the process of developing his own mass-produced Runic Formations that could fight off The Darkness—creations that would essentially compete with Sky Dew. If the Zanis Association discovered his work, Vlad had no doubt they would go to extre lengths to eliminate him and ensure his inventions died with him.
William, observing the complicated look on Vlad’s face, felt a stir of curiosity. Yet he did not pry. Even as a Royal Knight privy to many secrets within the fortress, he was not aware of the details of Vlad’s research. No more words were exchanged as they walked, and soon, they arrived at the Marshal’s residence.
Marshal Maximo awaited them at the castle entrance, arms folded behind his back. His imposing figure exuded an air of readiness as though he were perpetually on the verge of commanding an army.
He nodded to William, a silent order for the Royal Knight to leave, and then signaled Vlad to follow him deeper into the castle. The echo of their footsteps filled the hallway.
As they walked to their destination, Marshal Maximo offered Vlad a small, knowing smile. "I understand you’ve already had an encounter with the Zanis Association," he remarked, his tone carrying just the right blend of concern and humor. His presence was undeniably commanding, yet there was sothing unexpectedly warm in his deanor as he addressed Vlad.
Vlad was not surprised that the Marshal knew about the incident so soon. A leader of Maximo’s caliber would be well inford of anything that disturbed the peace in his fortress. He simply nodded. "I have, indeed. And I suspect future encounters are inevitable."
The Marshal let out a quiet chuckle, though his eyes remained sharp. "Yes, I suspect you’re right. The Zanis Association does not respond kindly to competition, particularly when it concerns sothing as crucial as Sky Dew."
Maximo then continued, his voice dropping slightly, "Should your runic project bear fruit and effectively counteract The Darkness, it would be a monuntal boon for the entire Graecia Empire."
As he spoke, Maximo’s steps ca to a halt in front of a heavy door set with intricate carvings. He turned to look at Vlad, his gaze intense. "I will make sure your contributions are recognized. More than that, if anyone dares to move against you out of a desire to stifle your inventions, they will learn just how serious I am about protecting the fortress—and those who serve it."
Vlad could sense the unspoken ssage. The Marshal was laying out a promise: if Vlad succeeded in producing a viable alternative to Sky Dew, the fortress would have his back, and the Zanis Association would find itself without an easy path to retaliate. Yet it was also clear that these promises hinged on Vlad’s success.
He offered the Marshal a small smile in return. Although he knew better than to trust words alone—especially from soone he had t only a month ago—there was a forthrightness about Maximo’s deanor that Vlad respected. "I appreciate that," Vlad said simply. "I have no intention of letting anyone snuff out my work."
At that, Maximo nodded firmly. Without another word, he placed his hand against the door, which was covered with a lattice of runic formations and magical seals. The aura of Maximo’s soul radiated briefly, and each glyph responded by glowing with faint light. A muted click signaled the door unlocking.
They stepped through into a chamber lit by a brilliance that made Vlad shield his eyes montarily. Once he adjusted to the glare, he realized it was caused by an all-pervasive, golden fla dancing above sconces lining the walls.
"Are these the Sacred Flas of Alexandros?" Vlad asked, recognizing the sa energy Agamnon had wielded upon his arrival at the fortress.
"They are," Marshal Maximo confird, gesturing for Vlad to follow him. "This chamber was built over the course of many years and has beco a specialized zone where these holy flas can stave off The Darkness. The energy they emit forms a stasis field that interrupts the spread of contamination from that chaotic energy."
Now that Vlad’s eyes had adjusted, he could see a wide series of tal pods arranged in neat rows. Within each container was a thick, golden liquid, and subrged in that liquid lay n and won of various races—so human, so entirely different. Their bodies bore deep wounds, flesh torn and scarred from savage battles.
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