Mystic Calling：Stone of Glory
Chapter 410: Now that was interesting

Chapter 410: Now that was interesting

"My Lord, right now, they still don’t know I’m a mole... which actually gives us a perfect opportunity!" Astharel’s eyes gleamed with a sharp light. "I was thinking—maybe we can use this chance to make a move."

Even though he had already defected to Emerald Castle and pledged loyalty to Ethan, that didn’t change the fact that he was still a king in his own right. And someone who could rise to the throne of a nation? Definitely not some useless figurehead.

He had real skills—serious ones.

And this was the perfect moment to show them off. To prove his worth. To carve out a solid place for himself in Emerald Castle and in Ethan’s eyes. There was no way he was going to let a golden opportunity like this slip through his fingers.

He was already gripping it tight.

Ethan glanced at Astharel, his gaze thoughtful, then asked, "How much do you think we can trust this Grand Duke Opriston?"

"Well..."

Astharel hesitated for a moment, his eyes flickering. "Normally? Not much. If he says ten things, maybe one of them’s true—on a good day. But right now... My Lord, to be honest, I don’t think he’s got the guts to mess with us over something this serious."

"So you’re saying the part about Maelthorak being seriously injured... that’s probably true?"

"Most likely, yes. But we should still prepare for the worst-case scenario."

Astharel didn’t even pause.

"The worst-case scenario? What would that be?" Ethan looked at him intently.

"My Lord, after the recent war between the factions, the Tidesworn suffered a total defeat. The seas are in chaos."

"Even that mighty, seemingly invincible Overlord Aurclim—he was forced to admit defeat, and rumor has it he was injured too. That tells us one thing: the chances that Maelthorak took even more damage are pretty damn high."

"And for us, for Emerald Castle, that’s the best possible news. But..."

He didn’t finish the sentence before Ethan’s eyes narrowed sharply. "You’re saying there’s a chance Maelthorak isn’t actually that badly hurt? Or maybe not hurt at all?"

"Exactly."

Astharel nodded, his expression serious. "My Lord, if we go with the simplest explanation—Maelthorak hasn’t shown his face at all. That would suggest he’s seriously wounded, right? He’s afraid that if he shows up, someone will target him. Given the current state of the seas... even if a Sea King really did die, the Tidesworn might just have to swallow it. It wouldn’t be the first time."

Ethan’s eyebrows shot up. "Wait—Astharel, are you saying a Sea King has already been killed?"

"Yeah... and not just one," Astharel said, his voice low, eyes dark with memory. "From what I’ve heard, during the last big clash between the factions, even the Overlords from both the Tidesworn and Inferno sides got involved directly. But the enemy was just too strong. Even on the sea, they completely overpowered Overlord Aurclim. He didn’t stand a chance."

"Word is, in the final battle, Aurclim was utterly defeated. He nearly suffered damage to his Primordial Force. And to cover his retreat, two Sea Kings died—cut down by the Inferno Arch Devil’s scythe."

Astharel shook his head slightly, as if still shaken by the news.

"Inferno’s no joke," Ethan muttered, shaking his head too. "For an Overlord from their side to beat a Tidesworn Overlord on the sea... that’s a huge power gap."

But just then, Cicero spoke up, his brow furrowed as he looked at Astharel. "You mentioned the simplest explanation earlier. Are you suggesting that Maelthorak might be faking it? Spreading rumors that he’s badly hurt to lure us in, and then..."

"Your Highness Cicero, I wouldn’t rule that out," Astharel said, nodding gravely. "To be honest, I don’t know Maelthorak’s personality or how he operates all that well. But I do know Grand Duke Opriston—very well."

"To put it bluntly, he’s a full-blown schemer. The man’s smart—no, scratch that—he’s cunning as hell," Astharel said, eyes narrowing. "If Maelthorak chose him to be the mouthpiece, then there’s no doubt they’re working closely together."

"That’s why I don’t think this is as simple as it looks."

"And there’s another reason I’m suspicious—Grand Duke Opriston deliberately avoided contacting Grand Duke Fiesto of the Blazeblade Kingdom. That, to me, is seriously odd."

"Didn’t you say it was because he was afraid the Greenwave Empire might catch wind of it?" Ethan asked, puzzled.

"That’s what he said, yes. But, My Lord, doesn’t that make it even weirder?"

"Sure, Fiesto’s basically Greenwave’s lapdog, but let’s be honest—we... I mean, they, the other three, aren’t any different. Fiesto and the Blazeblade Kingdom are all vassals of the Greenwave Empire. And not just in name—they’ve signed binding contracts."

"My Lord, you know how contracts work. Even the weakest kind, like a Mercenary Contract, carries serious consequences if broken. So now Opriston—or Maelthorak, really—thinks they can just toss a few sweet words our way and expect us to break a contract? Come on. They can’t be that naïve."

Ethan’s brow furrowed deeper. "Wait... something’s not adding up."

"You’re saying all of you signed contracts with the Greenwave Empire?"

"Exactly," Astharel confirmed with a nod.

"Then what about Maelthorak? He’s a Sea King. Shouldn’t the contracts have been with him?" Ethan pressed, his tone sharpening.

That was the real question.

He’d always assumed the Five Sea Kingdoms—and even the Greenwave Empire’s agreements—were all under Maelthorak’s control.

But apparently... that wasn’t the case?

Now that was interesting.

If he’d known that earlier, he might’ve taken a lot more risks.

"No," Astharel said flatly, shaking his head. "All the contracts from the Five Sea Kingdoms are held by the Greenwave Empire. And the Greenwave Empire’s own contract is with the Tidesworn faction. Maelthorak may be a Sea King, but he doesn’t actually command much directly. Maybe it’s his personality, maybe something else—I’m not sure."

"Aside from his personal Hero Units, he only has nominal authority over the powerful nations in his territory. He doesn’t really control them. But he’s not the only one."

"A lot of Sea Kings—or really, anyone at the King level—are in the same boat."

"I see..." Ethan nodded slowly, his eyes gleaming with thought. He was starting to piece it together.

"Then..." Cicero hesitated, then asked, "I still don’t get it. Why would they do this? What’s the point?"

It wasn’t that he wasn’t smart—he just hadn’t seen enough of the world yet.

The games nations played, the layers of deception, the political chess matches—those weren’t things you could fully grasp just by being clever. You had to live through them. Learn them. Feel them.

Take Astharel, for example.

He’d been a king for years, and not just any king—one from the Five Sea Kingdoms, a place where power dynamics were especially twisted. So naturally, he was way ahead of both Ethan and Cicero when it came to this kind of thing.

And Astharel knew it.

He knew this was his edge.

So he didn’t waste time explaining the basics.

He just laid out his theory.

"I think the reason he left Fiesto out... is because he knew he couldn’t fool him."

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