After leaving Griffin’s city, Leon reported back to the supre leader and relayed the sentint of Elder Black Wing, to which the supre leader responded with a laugh.
The old fool Black Wing was always such a drama queen, but he, just like the supre leader, was also a troublemaker.
He would work with him to make sure things went according to his plan, just to ss with the higher-ups of the Golden Griffin Clan.
"Sigh," seated at the edge of one of Griffin’s Peaks edges, Leon sighed as he held a scroll in front of him.
The scroll in his hand had a special function. It had been created and further reinforced to allow whomsoever had it the ability to negate the influence of Griffin’s Peak on their body.
That ant for its 3 uses, Leon could now fly down from Griffin’s Peak without any fear of the mountain acting on him.
The supre leader didn’t know exactly what Leon was doing every ti he went down the mountain, so he could only do what he thought would be helpful with his limited information.
At least with this scroll, Leon could go down much easier.
Unfortunately, it wouldn’t serve the purpose he had planned in his mind. What was needed to temper his body was exactly the influence of the mountain—sothing to negate that influence would be detrintal.
But it wasn’t completely useless; he could still use the scroll if ever he felt sothing was wrong. Then he would just pretend that it was what he was using previously to go down.
But for caution’s sake, he wouldn’t use the Spirit of Carnage anymore—he had other ways to slow down the impact of the mountain.
"Maximum effort," Leon stood up there and then before jumping down once again.
He could feel the change; what he hoped for was coming—all he needed was to persevere.
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"Yes!!! Hold it!!!"
At the top of a platform at the very peak of the golden tower, an old wrinkly figure brimd with excitent as he stared at a purple and golden luster forming above them.
Four weeks of hard work, years of preparations, all bore fruit right here and now. They had finally succeeded once again.
Two others sat in front of him with their hands stretched forward, channeling energy into a mysterious orb that seed to be connected to the golden luster in the air.
"Haha, if only that old bitch could see now," the man smiled at this sight. They had succeeded in opening this pathway before him and his companion, but never in such a grand way. This ti things would be different, though.
"A Royal Griffin spawn..." The man bead. With the snap of his finger, he summoned a servant.
"Send out the letters. We will have a celebration in four days; make sure all the myriad clan leaders who voyaged here are present," with a massive smile on his face, the old man said.
These words would on a normal day sound overzealous and boisterous, but this man right here was the de facto leader of the Golden Griffin Clan, and the other two were his equals.
A decree from them was like a speech from the ancient heavens and would be received with utmost caution.
"Yes, Sky Sovereign," the servant bowed his head then stood up to leave. He could feel the excitent in the Sovereign’s gaze. Sothing big was about to happen.
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The night after that, ssengers were sent out with invitation letters to the various houses in the outskirts. It read:
**"Dear esteed guests,**
**I, the First Sky Sovereign of the Golden Griffin Clan, hereby invite you all to the banquet celebrating the addition of our third Sky Sovereign, Drothan. It would bring us great joy to have your esteed self present on the fourth night after today. There will be drinks and food of the highest grade and a surprise event to go with it.**
**Yours sincerely,**
**First Sky Sovereign Ziaman"**
What they had all been waiting for was about to happen. In four days’ ti, they would et this new level 5 existence who voyaged here from Elodria.
Of course, the mbers of the myriad clans were all in anticipation for various reasons. So were here to settle grudges, so were here to make a na for themselves. And all this will certainly co to a head during this "celebration."
Now was the ti for preparations.
"Fuck!!"
"Fuck!!"
"Fuck!!"
Back in Griffin’s city, a pitiful figure ran through the alleyways of the buildings, trying his very best to blend into the shadows.
—woom!!
A sonic boom resounded through the sky as a golden streak tore through the very air itself, making its way past the alleyway the figure had hidden in just now.
But even then, the figure dared not breathe. It stood in the shadows like it was part of it. His eyes closed and his body devoid of life.
One would think that he had died at this point; this kind of camouflage was extraordinary and extrely hard to keep.
But he didn’t falter, maintaining this for two more hours. After which, he exited the shadows with a bead of sweat rolling down his forehead.
"It really is here," the figure sighed as he looked towards the golden tower in the distance. Who would have thought that that thing would really be here? In this backwater part of Finor world?
"Unfortunately," he tightened his grip. There was no way he could do anything to get what was behind that pathway with his current strength. With three level 5 existences? No one could pull off such a heist.
"There’s still ti, maybe after I get it from that kid’s grimy hands," he thought to himself, he was more determined now more than ever to get what was his back from Leon.
As the figure stepped through the shadows and into the light, it was revealed to be Bran.
He had snuck into the golden tower, passed through much of its security, but at the last minute, he was noticed by the old farts of the Griffin Clan.
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