Lord Malcon wasn't surprised by his High Lord's lack of manners. Lord Miller was known for being a straightforward person who hated roundabout ways and intrigues. His greatest passion was combat, and he saw no problem in solving everything with fists and swords.
When situations arose that required formulating complex plans and attacks, he delegated the task to Lord Malcon, who was known for creating almost infallible strategies.
"I understand, my Lord, but in this situation, one cannot be rushed. That's why I have a piece of advice to give."
"You without a plan? And giving out advice? That's unexpected, but proceed."
"The best thing to do in this situation is to collect information, but if we send too many spies, they will be noticed, as the royalty is on high alert. I suggest we reduce the number of spies and increase the number of runic puppets for information gathering."
"Would that be reliable? After all, runic artifacts are very recent. Wouldn't it be better to use a few spies equipped with legendary artifacts?" one of the major lords sitting at the table inquired. Thanks to his city-state's unique position as a supplier of drinking water, he possessed the largest spy network in the Noble's Council.
"Lord Elara, your skepticism regarding runic equipment is understandable, but legendary artifacts rely heavily on trade with low-ranking cultivators," a pale-skinned Lord, who wore armor ornamented with ice element runes, commented beside Lord Miller.
"Yes, as Lord Sten pointed out, legendary artifacts require more exploitation of the Noble's Council's connection network. I wouldn't advise this, because with the cultivation world stirred up by Master Khaled, I doubt they will help us or provide high-quality equipment," Lord Malcon observed, as a good strategist.
"Your arguments make sense, but runic equipment is not simple to obtain. For each of us here, our runic matrices and research involving this area are state secrets. So where will we find reliable runic equipment of sufficient quality so that information gathering doesn't become a potential risk?" Lord Elara pondered, frowning, as he stared at everyone around him with his sharp black eyes.
"That won't be a problem; I think I know what and who Lord Malcon has in mind for the job. He's good, but prepare your wallets, my dears, because we're going to bleed," Lord Miller said with a regretful expression.
"Don't be stingy, Lord Miller; if there's a solution, this is the biggest breakthrough we've made in this meeting. It's not the time to leave the folios in the vault; money is meant to be used," Lord Ferron declared, casting a condescending look in the giant's direction.
"It's easy for you to say, Lord Ferron, after all, Fortress Veridia has the fullest and wealthiest coffers of all those present, even ahead of my Aquilon's coffers. If money doesn't matter, how about you finance the entire undertaking? We'll be grateful and will remember it," Lord Elara voiced the thought everyone had, alleviating their frustrations with his mocking comment.
"Enough, gentlemen. As wealthy as Lord Ferron's coffers may be, we cannot make such a big folio movement without alerting a King and even the cultivators. We will divide the costs, and Aquilon will be responsible for the collection. Lord Malcon, the rest is on you; you have one week to bring us a concrete plan and present functional tools." Lord Xander organized, putting an end to that day's meeting, leaving Lord Malcon with much to prepare and think about.
Meanwhile, in the border fief that Lord Malcon administered, the windows of a rustic wooden house shone in broad daylight. The pulse of blue light leaked at a constant rhythm, causing the children playing near the Lord's private forest to point in curiosity and fear.
After all, the resident of the small house wasn't very friendly and was naturally ill-tempered.
"We're almost there... if the fons flow stabilizes, then we'll make history! We'll step into the domain of the gods!" a young, excited voice exclaimed.
"Focus, Nathan. We can't fail now because of your premature enthusiasm." a calmer, older voice rebutted.
The two individuals were leaning over a circular ebony table, filled with inscriptions and symbols within circles that connected through straight and semi-circular lines. The inscriptions pulsed with blue light, alternating between a soft and a strong pulse, enough to be noticed outside the house in broad daylight. In the center of the table was a silver tripod stand full of lines and inscriptions like the table, where the object of the two individuals' attention rested.
Energy pulses traveled from the table to the stand through the tripod, being reinforced after passing through the intricate paths of lines and circles on the stand and carried to the base where the shiny object was, which pulsed in constant rhythm with the table and accumulated energy.
"The Seal is accumulating energy in a stable way; I think we're finally going to succeed, my boy," the older man declared animatedly, his eyes shining under semi-transparent protective goggles.
"On my signal, increase the fons flow steadily to the limit."
"Yes, Rabbi Abner!" With focus, Nathan positioned his hands on two small buttons on the side of the table, anxiously awaiting the command that would determine once and for all if their efforts would be worth it.
"Wait... wait... Now!"
Firmly, Nathan simultaneously turned the two buttons, trying to maintain the same speed and synchronization. This was immediately reflected in the increased pulsations on the table and the tripod stand. The air around them began to hum as the blue light increased from pulses to a more and more intense and constant glow. A flow of energy was established through the paths on the table and was carried directly by the stand to the shiny object, which caused a peak of energy and light so great that neither the goggles nor the eyelids could do much to protect the rabbi and his apprentice.
The table, unable to withstand the intensity of the elemental energy passing through it, began to crack and tremble. The stand cracked in several places, even melting in some parts. When the flow reached its maximum energy peak, the entire setup exploded, throwing Nathan against the ceiling and Abner directly onto the wooden beam above the table. The explosion alarmed everyone outside and left them in a panic.
It was a series of disasters; the explosion completely destroyed the wooden house and gathered an angry crowd around the wreckage.
"It's the fifth time this month! But as if the noise and the annoying light weren't enough, he finally destroyed his own house!" someone in the crowd shouted.
"Hahaha, the Lord will finally drive out this useless rabbi!" This was the comment and feeling of the majority of people, who stood watching the rubble with no desire to help those buried.
"Make way for the Lord's guard!" A shout echoed in the crowd, causing a commotion and apprehension. Everyone was pushed to the sides as a group of armed knights passed through the corridor of people, followed by a beautifully crafted gofer wood carriage. Red-furred steeds with discreet horns on their foreheads pulled the carriage, intimidating any fool who didn't get out of the way fast enough.
When the carriage stopped and opened, a richly dressed, middle-aged man, appearing older than he really was, descended before everyone. His light skin contrasted with his dark eyes that stared at the crowd, silencing everyone before his scrutiny.
As gentle as Lord Malcon was, he was never known for his meekness or clemency. Criticizing a Lord's decision was madness, and the rabbi in question was Lord Malcon's direct guest and was under his protection.
"Kneel before your Lord!" The shout from the head of the guard brought everyone back from their stupor, and quickly, row by row, the entire crowd knelt before the Lord.
Ignoring everyone, Lord Malcon fixed his attention on the rubble, his forehead furrowed in concern. His plan depended on Rabbi Abner to work, and of course, he would need to be in perfect physical condition, which would be difficult thanks to the last accident.
"This blacksmith gives me so much trouble! I feel a terrible headache coming on, and frankly, I don't know if he's worth the problem he causes, even being a Rabbi in his art." Lord Malcon's wish was to leave Abner to his own luck, but with the crowd here, he had to intervene to show that everything was under his control.
"Carefully remove the rubble and prepare healing scrolls in case the Rabbi's injuries are deep! Quick, we've already lost too much time," Lord Malcon ordered, making his unit move quickly to carry out his orders.
However, before the soldiers could remove a single piece of wood, the rubble began to levitate, reaching nine meters in height and revealing a shallow crater where the runic table had been. In the crater, a light blue orb buzzed, causing some agony to the spectators.
Lord Malcon, with his mouth agape, could barely believe what he saw. Inside the orb full of elemental air fons, there was a young man lying on the ground and an older man standing up. His messy black hair and partially missing beard did not match the image of the tall, dark-skinned, sharp-eyed rabbi the crowd was used to seeing. But what stood out, besides his appearance, was a shiny rectangular object in his right hand.
A thread of energy came out of the object and fed the orb, which impressed everyone more and more with each passing second, as the manipulation of fons in this way was something only immortals could do. Mysterious inscriptions began to appear on the surface of the orb, which shrunk in size and disappeared, causing a stir. The sight was still shocking, as seeing the rubble levitating frozen in the air was a spectacle in itself.
"Hurry, you fools! Are you going to stand there all day? I am gravely injured!" In front of the kneeling crowd and the still-stunned guards, Rabbi Abner began to scream and gesticulate as if he were going to die at any moment. The situation was comical, to say the least, as it was clear that, aside from a few scratches, he was in perfect health.
"Enough with the show, Abner. I have a very important job for you," Lord Malcon, still impressed with what he saw, declared, thus arousing the interest of the shameless man.
"I barely survived this incident, and my Lord already wants to put me to work? If I die of exhaustion, the world will lose one of its most brilliant minds!" Abner retorted, still acting, little concerned about his assistant, who was being helped by guards with legendary scrolls to speed up his recovery.
"I will be clearer; we are talking about five million folios, which will be paid in full after the service."
The Lord's answer made everyone's mouths drop. The folio was the currency that circulated on the supercontinent, used by both cultivators and mortals. Its high added value was in its dual function as both money and a cultivation material, being used to restore vitality and even serving as a support for a mortal's longevity.
The amount of money mentioned by Lord Malcon made everyone's hearts stop. It was an amount they could barely imagine.
"What are we waiting for?! Let's go fast; duty calls!" With his eyes shining, Rabbi Abner jumped out of the crater and ran toward the carriage.
Everyone's gaze was one of strangeness; after all, they thought there were limits to shamelessness. Many blushed with shame at the Rabbi's posture, but Lord Malcon, recognizing the urgency of the situation, ordered the assistant to be placed in the carriage and continued the journey to the main manor.