Tyrant of the Ruined Sun - Chapter 238

Chapter 238: Maximillian’s Continued Crisis and a Cheap Imitation

I had almost forgotten the dragon I had given housing to here, half in paid agreement and half in greed of controlling and supervising whatever result arose from the world shaping disaster currently swimming in his wife’s veins.

“Come with me.” I instantly ordered, as I turned an apologetic look to my irate mother.

But when she saw the graveness of the expressions upon those around me, she instantly dissolved her displeased mask and replaced it with an understanding look, giving me a reassuring nod, as she then led my Eve and the rest of my family away with her.

With her blessing in tow, I immediately began to leave the courtyard and head directly to my office for some much needed privacy; an action obviously noticed by the members of my inner circle as well, as everyone, including the slightly awkward Hasdrubal and Leonid who were in equal measure being hugged and fussed over by Anastasia, rushed to my side.

“Am I to assume the reports I’ve been receiving on this matter have yet to change their contents even a fraction?” I asked, half knowing the answer already, as I looked to my Grand Vizier, who was a half step behind me.

“Yes, sire.” And Darius confirmed my suspicions immediately, as he shook his head with a weight that he rarely ever showed. “Lady Morgana is still uncured.”

I nodded silently in response before I muttered in a cold tone “I see.” And then asked, as my mind working as fast as it could “How bad is it?”

“She still draws breath,” Isaac began. “but that means little to a woman such as Morgana, who would choose death over weakness.”

“Which is another issue the healers and even his Excellency have brought up to us before sire, multiple times, saying that if her current mental state is to continue, or worse yet, deteriorate, then it is going to begin affecting further treatment.” Darius added.

It was then that I noticed that only Hasdrubal remained unclear on the topis of our conversation, since he hadn’t been with us in the Banquet of Concordia, nor was he here in the capital, so I was extremely glad to see Leonid taking it upon himself to fill him in, greatly reliving me, as I feared these two would no longer work so well together, considering Hasdrubal romantic relation with his sister and Leonid’s overprotective nature to her.

“I know that her sister wives, lady Eliana and lady Sophia have tried time and again to bring her out of the mental divot she has sunk into to, but they are yet to be successful in their attempts; and in all honesty, they might just be making it worse.” The familiar booming voice of the Forge Lord rung through our ears then, as he appeared with two armfuls of what appeared to be research papers from the hallway just beside my office.

“Valdour.” I greeted the gigantic man.

“Sire.” And he replied with a bow. “Congratulations on another successful campaign.”

“Congratulations, Master.” It was then that I also noticed another pair of eyes appear from the side corridor as well, ones the shade of poisoned green, having been concealed behind Valdour’s immense bulk.

“Seraphina?” I asked, somewhat surprised by her presence.

“She and I have been aiding the efforts of lord Hekan, lord Adam and lord Isaac in their research of the substance plaguing the War Dragon’s second wing.” Quickly explained Valdour, reassuringly putting his comically oversized palm over her slender shoulder, nearly toppling her over.

Though I did sense an odd air between the two, as though they had just concluded a terrible argument between them, which was absurd since Seraphina has always been the most mature and sensible of the three pupils under him.

And I could not shake the feeling that the steadying, almost fatherly gesture of Valdour a moment ago was not all it appeared to be, almost as though it was meant to also hold her back from saying something she should not.

“I see.” I nodded in understanding and slight curiosity, as I then led them into my office, saying “Excellent work, both of you.”

“Thank you.” Valdour coolly replied, but the young Demi-god answered far more feebly, whilst bowing her head as she did.

Valdour and I merely smiled at her unusual show of bashfulness and delight. Thinking that her scars have been rapidly starting to heal in these last few months.

“So then, how bad has Maximillian gone?” I grimly asked, expecting the worst as I looked back to Isaac and Darius, as I sat down.

“Not as bad as it could be, but he is growing more and more agitated with every day her ladyship remains unshackled from her suffering.” Darius quickly explained.

“So no incidents?” I asked, doubting that a wounded dragon would not run amok even once in his grief and his rage.

“None of any worth mentioning. Just a few cindered pieces of furniture and a couple of evaporated walls.” Isaac answered.

“Well I doubt he would take it too far in the middle of our capital after all, especially with his excellency and the two lords, Valdour and Hekan present as well.” Hasdrubal added at that moment.

“No, if he hasn’t done anything yet, it wouldn’t be because of his wariness towards Hekan or Valdour, but because his wife remains ill and he is desperate for her to regain her health, something that is inherently linked to the men and their unique set of expertise gathered in this city, nothing more and nothing less.” I added with the immediate approval of Darius who nodded.

“You said Morgana still draws breath, and in your letters, you said the Archpriest’s work was bearing fruit, so how much is our harvest exactly?” I asked with a great deal of interest this time, since the result of this could, hopefully not, but could very much prove to be the difference between life and death for either I or a member of my cherished family and capable subordinates, should the unknown hand currently wielding this devastating weapon turn his nefarious sights on me.

“Well the greatest achievement so far is the fact that her ladyship has regained a great deal of mobility in her legs, which were previously almost completely unusable. She is even now able to walk the gardens mostly without aid, though that is mostly a result of her stubbornness.” My Shade Corps Commander answered.

I frowned my eyebrows so hard they almost became one, as I asked incredulously in a whispering shout “Still?! After five months of healing from someone like his excellency the Archpriest, who can pull one from the brink of death with a casual wave of his hand, and can as easily heal cripples and amputees as you or I heal a papercut, and you’re telling that she’s yet to get any better?!”

“…I’m afraid so sire.” Isaac apologetically confirmed the utterly subpar results.

“It’s odd, my liege, in one session with his Excellency she grows visibly steadier and more healthy with every breath; and on another session she barely exhibits any signs of recovery. It’s utterly baffling, and it’s driving his excellency mad with frustration. Everyday he visits them in the mourning to administer his healing, and in the night, he pours over manuals and different healing arts, each more complex and advanced than the last, and yet he remains stumped.” Darius quickly added.

“What of Essence of Achlys then?” I sighingly asked then, looking to Valdour and Seraphina in particular. “Have you made any progress in that field at least?”

“On that topic my emperor, we might have some good news for you.” Isaac happily declared, as he looked back to Seraphina, clearly indicating her significant role in this certain discovery.

“Well… at least, in a manner of speaking.” Darius added awkwardly a moment later.

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“What plights lady Morgana, it is not the true Essence of Achlys. It is a cheap imitation of the true thing.” Valdour took the helm of answering my question then.

“A cheap imitation?!” I repeated dumbly for a moment.

“Yes.” And they all nodded with absolute certainty.

“I find it hard to view it as a mere as a mere counterfeit, when it has brought so low a warrior of lady Morgana’s calibre.” Abraham spoke up for the first time, his tone thick with scepticism and confusion.

“Do you know why that infamous poison was called the Essence of Achlys?” Valdour asked no one in particular.

“No.” And I answered on behalf of everyone.

“It is because, in an odd twist of irony, the secret ingredient for that dreadful poison, that has illuded alchemists and poison masters for millennia, has right before our eyes from the beginning.” Suddenly I felt a chill creep up my spine, as I came to expect Darius’ coming words. “To make the Essence of Achlys you will require a drop from descendant of the God of Poisons and Snakes.”

“That was why it was so horrific sire, because it was infused with the very life blood of the Serpent Sovereigns, and without it, the poison will forever remain a shadow of it’s former self.” Isaac quickly then finished his words.

I stayed silent for a full minute, before then asking again to be sure “Are you certain it is a fake?”

“Yes master, I checked time and again, and there is not even a trace of my ancestor’s divinity within the lady’s body.” This time it was Seraphina who stepped forward to explain, speaking in absolute confidence about her discovery.

And though I doubted how accurate an ungated demigods’ senses are in such a situation, I erred on the side of believing her for now, since my powers and abilities would not be the same as hers.

“So that means the key for whoever has learned the full recipe of this poison only requires the blood of either Seraphina or her father and they would be able to perfectly recreate the masterpiece of the ancient king Achlys?” I asked.

Though Seraphina’s face paled and her knuckled clenched at the mention of her father, she still confidently answered with a simple “Yes.”

I sighed again for the hundredth time it felt today, as I looked to Darius and Isaac “Immediately send a force of Hecatombs to the Poison Palace in the south. Have them monitor and safeguard the old master of the city, am I clear?”

“Of course, my liege. My men have been ready and waiting for a month within the target’s inner sanctum.” Isaac instantly replied, clearly having expected my command and already acted upon it.

“Pardon me sire, but wouldn’t it be more prudent to use more permanent and possibly heavy handed measures to make sure that whoever it is that has access to this most dangerous of poisons, is utterly unable to get his hands on it?” Hasdrubal hesitantly said, casting apologetic glances at Seraphina without pause, while she herself remained perfectly stone faced in return.

“You misunderstood our liege’s plan general.” Darius quickly addressed him. “His imperial majesty means to use him as bait so that we may catch the culprit.”

“Exactly.” I nodded, before I looked to the ancient assassin. “And speaking of the culprits, what of them? Have we found a trace yet? Anything at all?”

“I have failed you sire.” Isaac bowed. “I offer no excuse.”

“Double your efforts.” I calmly said, expecting that he is yet to find any tangible value of them, considering that even I, who has lived through this world twice, has never before came across these saboteurs and their hidden agenda.

“Understood sire.” Isaac replied.

“Send me Maximillian. I have words for him.” I then commanded as I leaned back in my chair, massaging my temples.

“I think it best if you don’t sire.” Darius advised.

“And why is that?” I asked.

“The Mercenary King has been especially irate since last week, and he might be unfit to appear before you today.” Darius explained.

“If I have words that means I have words for him. I don’t care what his current state is.” I coldly demanded.

“No need to bother the two lords, Eclipse Emperor. I’m already here.” Maximillian’s voice rang out.