It was close to noon, and the sky had a cloudy and somber look, which perfectly foreshadowed the shock that all the nobles would feel when they received the messenger crows that day.
Lord Malcon was a minor lord who lived in Ignis, the city-state located on the edge of the central desert, near the mountain range that separates the Southern continent from the central one. He was subordinate to the major lord who governed the four border fiefs of the city-state. Just like the other three minor lords, his representation at the Noble's Council was due solely to the presence of his major lord in the organization.
For this reason, his astonishment was justified when the golden letter was delivered to his office. Dismissing the servant who had been waiting for a few seconds with the letter in hand, he took the golden scroll, inspecting the Seal. There was no doubt; the letter was from the Noble's Council.
Why he had received the letter was the puzzle that troubled him. Issues related to the organization were always handled by the major lords, who would later inform their subordinate minor lords. What did it all mean? Doubts and apprehension filled his mind. Whatever it was, nothing good would surely come from this significant change in the natural order of things.
Tired of conjecturing and with his mind already quite tormented, Lord Malcon decided to break the Seal. The news was worse than he had imagined: an independent Master, the most famous cultivator of the past decades, had killed several soldiers and nobles on the battlefield in the dispute between the Gofer fief of Fortress Veridia and the Yam fief of Aetheria. In that same battle, he had killed the master of fire of a great manor in the central continent and subjugated a master of earth.
It was not unprecedented for a master to do what Khaled did, causing mortal casualties. But what was unprecedented was that this time, even a high-level immortal had fallen. This showed how powerful and dangerous he was. Without a doubt, all the powers of the mortal world would unite to understand the implications of the actions of the master of space.
While Lord Malcon was in shock at the news and its likely implications, in various parts of the supercontinent, lords received the same letter, and one by one, the members of the nobility of the seven city-states became aware of what had happened.
It was certain that nothing would ever be the same, since a master had dared to cross the line and kill an equal in the mortal world. The myth and the aura of immortality of the cultivators would be threatened. There were too many witnesses to silence, and even though the common people were like ants, without real power, it was the myth of the cultivators' immortality that guaranteed unquestioning subservience.
The distinction and segregation existed on the planet Gan for the use and delight of the powerful cultivators. The billions of common people of the human race formed the basis of society, with the vast majority being people of the land who produced food, clothing, and various products for the nobility, or at least that's what the overwhelming majority of people thought. But the truth was that all the wealth produced by humanity was retained in the hands of the cultivators.
To the common man, a cultivator was the equivalent of an immortal, powerful enough to decimate entire cities in their wrath. They did not mix because they saw common people as servants at their service in the best-case scenario, and as objects for their use in the worst.
The cultivators inhabited the central continent, beyond true mountains of sand. Their immortal cities were called manors, and no one in the nobility knew for sure how many there were or what they were like. What was known was that in those lands, no mortals existed, and even the most humble and simple cultivator could decimate dozens of common people with their power.
Most of the cultivation world was concentrated in these megacities, with a few independent cultivators standing out as a rare exception, and even they did not live in the mortal world, choosing instead to wander the vast supercontinent.
The fact that the "immortals" ruled was a known but distant reality. The nobility and royalty did not interfere in the affairs of the cultivation world, and thus they could do what they wanted in the mortal world, as long as it did not cause any disruption to the delivery of resources and the maintenance of services.
However, this clear distance was broken by Khaled's act. What was once just a distant notion had now become a clear and real nightmare of what a powerful cultivator could do.
All this fear led the Noble's Council to convene a solemn assembly of all the major and minor nobles of the city-states, in Ignis on the edge of the central continent.
The present disquiet was felt even before entering the palace of the city's major lord. Ignis was a hot city because it was located on the edge of the central continent, which was a huge scorching desert. A semi-active volcano was also in its vicinity, yet the heat and tension in the atmosphere were not due to the weather or the environment.
"To the Lords present, I want to give my greetings. This is a terrible occasion. Today, we, the most prominent lords of all the city-states on the supercontinent, have gathered to discuss our future, after the massacre that Master Khaled Koros orchestrated, using as a backdrop a prolonged war between a fief of my city Aetheria and a fief of Fortress Veridia," Xander Celengor, the major lord of the city-state of Aetheria, spoke before everyone.
"The problem we have is not trivial. Hidden opposition forces must already be on the move as we speak. They will use recent events to question not only the usefulness of the parallel system of nobility but also ways to limit our power," the declaration of Lord Ferron, Major Lord of Fortress Veridia, further dampened everyone's spirits, but some who heard him were enraged.
"If you had controlled your minor lords, would we be in this situation?" bellowed Lord Darren, Major Lord of the city-state Eternal Rock.
"The dispute was legitimate, and there was no way to know about Ayla's involvement; after all, she was helping while posing as a mortal, and what's worse, how could those involved have known about Migdal's plans?" Lord Ferron thundered.
"My Lords, this is no time for accusations or exchanging barbs! The crisis has not yet passed, and if now that we are in the middle of the storm we start to tear each other apart, then we might as well accept our defeat before the lurking enemies and offer our heads." Lord Xander's words sent shivers down everyone's spines.
Once reminded of what awaited them, and the sword of the Royal Houses hanging over their necks, the altered moods calmed down.
"This is much better. We don't even know how the immortals will proceed yet. Starting an internal fight now would be suicide for everyone. We need to carefully observe what the royal courts are scheming and prepare for the attempted power grab that will come. The immortals don't care who is in the commoners' government, as long as the efficiency of production and the maintenance of their lifestyles are guaranteed, they would allow a change of government. This is the best chance for the monarchies in centuries; they will act against us. The question is, when?" Lord Xander raised the question that made everyone focus on the immediate problem of the Noble's Council.
"This explains why we minor lords had the chance to participate in this assembly. Their fear is of the imminent retaliation from the Royal Houses and the shift in the spheres of power. So petty... maybe it's time for someone better to take over the destiny of humanity." Lord Malcon's thought wandered to the willingness of the lords to cling like dying men to their fragile positions, not for the benefit of all, but to maintain the status quo of those present.
"Lord Miller, didn't you brag that in Ignis you have a minor lord who is a genius strategist? Is he here?" Lord Darren said to a man sitting beside him, who looked more like a soldier born of giants than a human Lord himself. This was Ignis's Major Lord, Lord Miller Flamus.
"Yes, my vassal is undoubtedly the most brilliant in terms of strategy and planning. Lord Malcon, present yourself!" Lord Miller, with no high-class manners at all, yelled at the crowd of minor nobles gathered behind him.
The table in the center was giant and round, beautifully crafted from gold, silver, and precious stones. Only the most powerful Lords of each city-state had a place at that table. The city where the Noble's Council met was rotational, as was its presidency. Lord Xander was the current president of the organization, which gave Aetheria a status to be considered in the general context.
Hearing his name called by Lord Miller made Lord Malcon snap out of his reverie. With a sigh, he headed toward the voice, which still insisted on yelling his name, disregarding the obvious difficulty of someone crossing the crowd of nobles and advisors surrounding the Council.
"You called, my Lord?" bowing beside Lord Miller, Lord Malcon respectfully inquired.
"We need a plan to fix this whole mess, and plans are where you shine the most. So now, sort this situation out." Lord Miller declared, leaving most of the Lords sitting at and around the table perplexed by the giant Lord's unorthodox manners.