Book 7, Chapter 142

A Lesson In Love

“Hmm… this sounds nice,” Apeiron’s eyes started to glow purple, an indication of her killing intent. Even Julian quietly retreated a few steps as she looked at the youths that were massaging her, “You lot are annoying!”

A wave of her hand sent out a dozen whips of invisible energy, dissecting the youths into evenly portioned sections of flesh. None of the doctors and priests managed to dodge in time, blood spurting on to their faces and bodies, but they just froze up on the spot without crying out. A pair of them fainted in shock, but they had learnt not to annoy the Empress further.

As he watched from the side, Julian’s eyes glowed with reverence. Apeiron was the only one he knew to have such control of her energy; if he were trying to do the same thing, half of the priests would have wound up dead. Pain flashed across his eyes as the Empress threw away the towel and stood up, revealing even more criss-crossed wounds that made one wonder how she was still intact. However, that was quickly suppressed as he flashed away and returned with a set of lavish ceremonial robes that she could wear directly.

These robes had actually taken a herculean effort themselves. An enormous amount of the family’s wealth had to be spent to hire the tailors and leatherworkers to design this legendary outfit, matching both the tastes of modern nobility and Apeiron’s own preferences. They had even prepared a spare set; even being extremely tough, one could never tell when the Empress would destroy her armour.

“When is the convention?” Apeiron asked as she dressed up.

“In five days, Your Majesty.”

“Five days?” she was a little surprised, a subtle smile flashing across her face as she thought it over, “Many of the older people will have to rush over as quickly as possible, it won’t be cheap. Looks like the kid is really confident in his work.”

“I believe it is a good time for us. Many of them will be unable to make it, giving you the pick of the lot.”

Apeiron sneered, “Anyone who wants to come should be allowed. I’m the Empress of the Sacred Alliance, and I took over the position from that damned fatass; I can’t have the old coots looking down on me. Go to the warehouse and make an inventory of what we have; if it isn’t enough, go to the women and take from them too. I’m going out for a bit, I’ll see if I can meet up with that cursed fellow and bring back a top-tier offering. Who knows how long it’ll be before Richard makes another.”

“Of course, Your Majesty. Should I obtain the details about the runes from Richard?”

“No, not knowing is part of the fun. I haven’t felt excited in so long!”

“As you wish, Your Majesty. I will also prepare the sixth batch of your harem before you return.”

“Ugh, it’s been so long! You’re getting sloppy, I didn’t find one person I actually want to have sex with!” Apeiron raged.

Julian remained calm, “I needed to calm your mood swings. You haven’t returned to Norland in so long, you’ve forgotten that you can enjoy the world at a slower pace. Isn’t it good to give you more choices? That’s why I showed you people from all races and styles. If you wish to be serious, I suggest moving to the special list.”

The purple in Apeiron’s eyes started flickering from internal struggle, and after a while she finally said, “You said there are only three people on it?”

“Yes, and only two of them are from the Alliance itself.”

“Fine, choose whoever’s name is at the top.”

Julian flashed a smile that was both graceful and sinister as he bent forward, “As you wish, Your Majesty.”

Apeiron nodded and threw a fist into the sky, tearing a hole in space that she stepped through immediately. Julian only straightened up once the aftershocks faded away, staring at the priests and doctors who had been scared out of their wits, “Clean this place up. As always, forget everything you just saw; if I hear so much as a word circulating about this, all of you will be dead! Am I clear?”

The priests and doctors hurriedly agreed before starting to clean up the flesh and blood.

Julian flipped out an intricate little notebook and flipped to a page with three names on it, every name supplemented with a number of scribbles below. Taking out a feathered pen, he circled the name in the middle and squinted his eyes, fading into his own thoughts.


In island 5-5, the Ironblood Duke was in his study repeatedly scanning through a letter in his hands. There weren’t many words on the sheet, but it still took him fifteen full minutes to put it down before he started to contemplate.

A long while later, he tapped a copper bell on his table to summon Agamemnon, “Word is that you’ve been associating with a girl recently, why didn’t you tell me?”

“She is only level 17,” Agamemnon replied. It was an important rule in the family that for a core member to decide their own marriage, the other party had to be a saint or grand mage. The only exception was for extraordinarily talented individuals like runemasters. If neither of these conditions were fulfilled, the family would pick their partner instead.

“The girl is a very gifted cursemaster, isn’t she?” the Duke muttered, “Richard’s sister?”

“Yes, her name is Demi.”

The Duke looked Agamemnon in the eye, “Are you serious about her? If you are, I will allow it.”

“Huh? But she’s only…” Agamemnon was shocked; he had never recalled his father making exceptions to family rules.

“She has a gifted bloodline, that is good enough to give her an exemption.”

“But the Archeron bloodline is not in the list.”

“It is now,” Duke Orleans grabbed a sheet of paper embalmed with the family crest, writing a short order before signing his name and giving it to Agamemnon. Reading through it, the youth trembled; the letter stated that the Archeron bloodline was now top-class in the Sacred Alliance and all of Norland, granting it diplomatic immunity from the Orleans Family.

Agamemnon frowned, “The Archeron bloodline isn’t top class!”

“It soon will be,” the Duke quickly penned down another letter, “Make a trip to the Land of Dusk and give this to Beye, try your best to summon her back. Also, ask her to borrow a top-tier offering from Saint Lawrence for my personal use.”

Still confused, Agamemnon took the letter and walked out.

“Hold up,” his father called behind him, “If you really do feel that you love Demi, if you even just don’t hate her… try your best to make her happy. This is a good chance; Richard… he’s already a saint runemaster.”

Finally understanding why his strict father had changed his view, the silent youth just flashed a true smile and walked away.

Similar incidents occurred in all the other families of Faust, some sooner than the other. The first to react were the core nucleus of the city who had received official invites, and the news rippled out layer by layer until the other two human empires and even the rest of the mainland knew about it.


By this time, Richard had already reached the Deepblue. When he stepped out of the portal, Blackgold who had received the news rushed to him and leapt into an embrace, “You bastard, I thought you’d died in Faelor!”

Richard just laughed, returning the momentary hug before letting the grey dwarf go, “Where’s Master?”

“Her Excellency is currently guiding Ensio in enchantments, I can take you there.”

“Alright,” Richard nodded, following him to the upper levels of the Deepblue.

By this point, almost all of the damage to the Deepblue had been restored. This included Sharon’s personal laboratory and testing arena, a vast land constructed in folded space similar to Thor’s demiplane. This place was covered in protective arrays; with enough energy, it could even withstand legendary magic.

As he followed Blackgold into the training arena, Richard saw a scene that would leave others speechless. At least seven enormous dragons were flying around in the sky, circling around Ensio who was in the middle. Sharon was lazing into a chair enjoying some fruit, her legs just shaking about in mid-air.

While she seemed completely at ease, Ensio was facing a very difficult situation in mid-air as he often barely escaped the dragons’ attacks. Richard was a little taken aback by this; well aware of the bald youth’s terrifying powers, he knew that ordinary black dragons were no match. Besides, wasn’t Sharon instructing him in enchantments? Why wasn’t he using any magic at all?

Sharon suddenly waved her hand, lighting up Ensio and the dragons in a bright glow. However, Ensio slowed down to a third of his speed while the dragons behaved like they were in heat, growing extremely ferocious. Not long after, a black dragon managed to get to him and pin him to the ground.

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OMA's Thoughts

Translated By: Styles

Edited By: Theo

TLC'ed By: OMA