Rising god
Chapter 97: Authority

Chapter 97: Authority

The Darkan banquet had reached its crescendo, with the empire’s elite beginning to arrive, signaling the time for the Darkan Head to make his appearance. But before he could step into the grand hall, he received an unexpected guest.

Quintelle Lindell, the second daughter of the Lindell family.

The Lindell family.

They were a renowned family of water mages who had amassed three suns in their storied history, and were not only a powerhouse but also the Darkans’ direct neighbors. Their proximity and influence meant their requests carried weight, and refusing an audience was a difficult move.

’Why is she here?’ he wondered, honestly, a part of him could almost guess the reason; however, he was still curious.

Quintelle entered, her luxurious light blue dress shimmering like a tranquil sea, accentuating her striking blue eyes. Her silver hair cascaded in elegant waves, framing a pale, ethereal beauty.

"Haha, please have a seat," the Darkan Head said, his tone polished as he gestured to a plush chair. "Would you like anything?"

She nodded, accepting a glass of sparkling wine. For twenty minutes, they exchanged pleasantries; however, the air still hung heavy with unspoken intent. Finally, he broached the subject. "May I know the reason for your visit?"

"You threw a celebration, and we came," Quintelle replied, her voice deceptively simple, as if her presence needed no further explanation.

The Darkan Head’s eyes narrowed briefly before softening. ’Is she really here just to announce their attendance?

"Alright, but you sought me out, meaning you have a request. I’ll assist to the best of my abilities."

"The party felt lackluster without the main character," she said, her tone sharpening. "I thought you could remedy that."

His mouth twitched, restraining a surge of frustration to scream out, just say it outright. "I’m sorry, but I cannot do that for you," he replied firmly.

"May I know why?" Quintelle pressed, her eyes narrowing.

"No, you may not," he said, shaking his head.

A tense silence followed. Quintelle’s gaze hardened, but she rose gracefully. "Eventually, you’ll have to give him up," she said, her words sounding like an inevitability, before gliding out of the room.

The Darkan Head sighed, slumping in his chair. He knew it, everyone did. Jin was too extraordinary to remain with the Darkans forever. He would eventually have to give him up.

***

In the shadowed underbelly of Darkan, Ralph attended the underground general meeting, his 5th-star presence drawing suspicious glances.

The spiral meeting room, made from obsidian and lit by flickering torches, buzzed with the arrival of the underground’s elite, pirates, bandits, slave traders, terrorists, and more. Their eyes narrowed further as Ralph sat with the Mistars, but nothing was said, and no one approached.

The meeting’s purpose wasn’t actually about Dawnless’ recent expansion, despite Mirta’s claim to Baines. It was actually just to get his attention and find out if she could benefit from the relationship.

But there was a reason for this gathering, and the tension in the room fully displayed a deeper crisis; maybe it was only Dawnless who didn’t feel the pressure.

A man stepped onto the central platform, his voice commanding attention as he spoke, "We gather today to discuss the future of the underground organizations."

No one flinched at his words; it was obvious that this was the reason for their meeting. "Recently, we lost thirty percent of our forces to a branch family’s purge, backed by the church," he continued. "And now, the Darkans have reclaimed their heritage. What do you think awaits the rest of us?"

The question hung heavy, sinking into the minds of the gathered leaders. After a pause, he spread his arms and continued, "Now, we, the Maroon Marauders, have a solution."

The Maroon Marauders, Dawnless’s top-ranked underground organization. Maybe only they and the second-ranked held the authority to convene such a meeting.

Eyes widened at the promise of a solution, but skepticism lingered.

"What do you propose?" a voice shouted, his voice laced with anger; however, the man in charge wasn’t angry. After all, the angry person was the head of the second-largest underground organization, the Doombringers.

At his words, a new figure entered, silencing the room.

Clad in a white robe, his black-and-white hair neatly combed, Marron, the Maroon Marauders’ leader, exuded a mature air around him.

But that wasn’t what surprised people. It was the power he was radiating at the moment.

He was in the grandmaster rank, more specifically, an 8th star.

Here? In Dawnless, an 8th star? It was shocking. Even Darkan’s head, the strongest person in Darkan, was still a 7th star.

"I’ll take it from here," Marron said, scanning the room with a knowing smile.

"I understand your thoughts and worries. Most of you are currently like, Why didn’t I act sooner? We could’ve crushed the Darkans, and you’re not wrong." His candor disarmed them. "But consider the two events our colleague mentioned. What is the commonality between them?"

The room stirred, brains grappling for answers. Brawns with no brains thought hard but couldn’t come up with anything; however, surprisingly, the leader of Mistars, Mirta, spoke, her voice cutting through the murmurs, "The variable called ’Jin’ is the commonality."

Heads turned, understanding dawning. Marron nodded. "Exactly. His strategies, formations, and weird usage of techniques made this possible. The height of it is that he even restored the dragon clan."

"Are you saying we should kill him?" the Doombringer leader mused, his tone speculative.

"That was the initial plan," Marron admitted. "But we don’t have to."

"Why not?" another voice demanded.

"Now, let me ask this question: after what he’s done, do you think the empire will leave him be?" Marron’s question landed like a thunderbolt. Eyes widened, realization spreading.

It was true. Would the empire actually leave the Darkan alone with a variable like Jin?

The answer was a BIG, NO.

***

In the Darkan estate, the banquet’s revelry was shattered by a sudden gale, the wind howling like a beast unleashed.

Guests poured outside, their finery whipping in the storm, and gasped at the sight above. A colossal golden vessel, the size of a castle, hovered in the sky, its hulls gleaming with runes that pulsed with arcane energy. Cannons capable of unleashing beams to annihilate armies adorned its sides, and its ornate design bespoke unmatched craftsmanship.

There were only five of them in the empire, each a symbol of ultimate authority wielded by an Imperial Commander, and they got the name, Sun Destroyer.

The crowd wasn’t afraid of an attack; the vessel’s presence signified something far weightier because this was even the highest protection any of them could get.

The Darkan Head, standing at the forefront, felt his stomach plummet. His worst fears had materialized. Just as he had exerted his authority over the Last Front to claim Baines, the imperial family was now flexing theirs to take him from the Darkans.

Quintelle’s warning echoed in his mind: Eventually, you’ll have to give him up.