The golden gates of the Aetherion Primordial Empire’s border flickered with ancient runes as Noah’s sleek black ship glided through.
To the untrained eye, it was just another noble vessel returning from the void. But for the guards stationed at the gate, this was no ordinary arrival.
One guard, a man nad Harlen with sharp, predatory eyes, watched his scanner intensely. As the ship’s identification code pinged against the imperial database, his breath hitched.
He quickly stepped into a private communication booth, his hands trembling slightly as he keyed in a restricted frequency.
"Sir, it’s done," Harlen whispered, his voice thick with urgency. "Just now, soone with the Sorus family seal entered through the gate. He is claiming to be the heir of the Count."
On the other side of the transmission, there was a long, heavy silence.
When the response finally ca, it was a voice like cracking ice, smooth, cold, and utterly devoid of rcy.
"Let them co," the voice commanded. "I have waited for this day for so long. Finally, I will have that seal in my hand. You have done a good job, Harlen."
"Thank you, my lord," the guard replied, bowing to the empty air as the line went dead.
Deep within the heart of the Empire’s capital planet, the Sorus family estate was glowing with artificial starlight.
It was a night of grand celebration.
Music echoed through the marble halls, and the scent of exotic wines and expensive perfus filled the air.
The guest list was a "who’s who" of the imperial elite. High-ranking military officers in stiff, decorated uniforms mingled with noble families draped in silks that cost more than entire planetary systems.
The man of the hour was Kael Sorus.
He stood at the center of a circle of admirers, wearing a sharp military tunic that bore the new insignia of a Brigadier General.
"Congratulations, Mr. Sorus, on your promotion," a silver-haired Major General said, clinking his glass against Kael’s. "To beco a Brigadier General at such a young age... we expect great things from you in the future."
Kael bowed his head with practiced humility.
"Thank you, Major General, for coming personally. It is truly my honor to serve the Empire."
As the officer moved away, a noblewoman stepped forward, leading a young girl by the hand.
"My, congratulations, Count Sorus," she chirped. "You are like a sun in the sky, holding two major titles. To be a rising star in the army and the head of a Great House... truly impressive. This is my daughter, Isabella. You young fellows should talk."
Kael offered a polite, sowhat lancholic smile to the girl.
"It is an honor to et you, Lady Giara. However, I must correct you. I am not an official Count yet. I cannot take the title until I find the Count’s Seal. You know the laws of the Empire."
"Oh, you are just being modest!" Lady Giara laughed, waving her hand dismissively. "Even if you don’t find it, the Emperor will surely grant you a new one in a million years or so. It’s only a matter of ti."
"I wish my father would have told where it was before he disappeared," Kael said, his voice dropping to a sad whisper.
The crowd around him murmured in sympathy.
He looked the part of the grieving, hardworking son perfectly.
But beneath the facade, Kael’s mind was a whirlwind of calculation.
His divine sense was pushed to its absolute limit, spread out like a spiderweb across the city.
He wasn’t mourning.
He knew the seal was coming.
He wanted the rightful heir to walk through those doors while the entire nobility was watching.
It would make the "accident" he planned for the newcor so much more legal.
Noah parked the black spaceship in the public docks outside the capital’s atmosphere.
Large inter-planetary vessels weren’t allowed into the royal district for security reasons.
As the landing ramp hissed open, Noah stepped out.
He was followed by his parents, the twelve generals, and a very grumpy-looking Arthur.
The dock guards approached imdiately.
They had already received the tip-off.
Their eyes swept over the group, scanners buzzing in their hands.
When the readout flashed on their screens, the lead guard had to bite his lip to keep from laughing out loud.
"Total sixteen people," the guard whispered to his partner. "The strongest one is barely at the Mythical level. Most of them are just... ordinary mortals or low-rankers."
The guards looked at Noah with pure disdain.
In the Primordial Empire, a Mythical level being was little more than a foot soldier or a high-end servant.
For such a "puny" group to claim the seat of a Count, one of the highest noble ranks, was a cosmic joke.
However, rembering Kael’s instructions to be "welcoming," the guard forced a stiff bow.
"We welco the heir of the Count," the guard said, his voice dripping with sarcasm that Noah chose to ignore.
"Thank you," Noah said, acting like a wide-eyed provincial noble. "Can you tell how I can get to the Sorus family estate? We’ve traveled a long way."
"Yes, sir," the guard said quickly. "Please, co with . I will personally escort you."
As they followed the guard toward a high-speed transport, Rudi leaned in close to Noah, his voice a low growl.
"Boss, do we really need to act this much? I could flatten this entire city with a sneeze. My ’Mythical’ aura is starting to itch."
Noah chuckled, his eyes dancing with mischief.
"Of course we do, Rudi. It’s fun, don’t you think? Let’s see how they react when their ’peasant’ takes the throne."
The transport dropped them off at the towering gates of the Sorus estate.
The guard stopped at the threshold.
"We are not authorized to enter the party. Please, go from here alone."
Noah thanked him and led his group inside.
The mont the fifteen of them walked into the grand ballroom, the music didn’t just stop.
It died.
The laughter vanished, replaced by a suffocating silence.
Hundreds of pairs of eyes turned toward the entrance.
Noah, wearing a simple but clean robe, looked around the room with a confused, innocent expression.
Behind him, his generals looked like a pack of lost tourists.
His parents clung to each other, seemingly overwheld by the luxury.
"Hello," Noah said, his voice echoing in the silent hall. "I am Noah Sorus. May I know what is going on in my house?"
For a heartbeat, no one spoke.
Then, a roar of laughter erupted from the back of the room.
It spread like wildfire.
The nobles doubled over, pointing and whispering.
"Your house?" one of Kael’s military subordinates shouted, stepping forward to tease his commander. "Sir Kael, looks like you have a challenger! A Mythical level Emperor! I’m shaking in my boots!"
Kael didn’t laugh.
He stepped forward, the crowd parting for him like the Red Sea.
He looked at Noah with a mixture of mock pity and hidden greed.
"My dear cousin, I presu?" Kael said, his voice loud enough for everyone to hear. "I appreciate the joke, but this is a serious gathering. To claim the Sorus na is one thing, but to claim the estate? You need more than just a na."
Noah tilted his head, looking perfectly hurt.
"Don’t laugh at . I have the proof. My father gave it to ."
With a slow, deliberate motion, Noah reached into his pocket and pulled out an object wrapped in ancient silk.
He unwound the cloth, revealing a heavy, obsidian seal engraved with the Sorus family insignia.
It pulsed with a faint, rhythmic purple light.
The laughter in the room stopped instantly.
It was as if the air had been sucked out of the chamber.
Kael’s eyes widened.
He began salivating, his heart hamring against his ribs.
The Sorus Seal.
It wasn’t just a symbol of rank.
It was the literal key to the "Treasury of Albedos."
Power, weapons, and enough primordial essence to reach the peak of the immortal realm were locked behind that seal.
And it was right there.
Held by a boy who looked like he could be killed by a strong breeze.
Kael’s eyes turned cold, a predatory glint replacing his polite facade.
He didn’t care about the guests anymore.
He didn’t care about the law.
He just wanted that stone.
"That..." Kael stamred, his voice trembling with greed, "that is indeed the seal. But a treasure of the Empire cannot be held by soone so... weak. It is for your own safety, cousin. Hand it over to , and I will ensure you live a long, comfortable life in the servants’ quarters."
Noah gripped the seal tighter.
A small, subtle smirk played at the corners of his mouth.
"But the law says the one who holds the seal is the Count. Are you saying you want to break the Emperor’s law?"
The atmosphere in the room shifted.
A celebration turned into a powder keg.
The generals behind Noah shifted their weight.
Their eyes glowed with a hidden, terrifying light.
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