Chapter 574: The Mark of Cain (I)
Marshal Maximo’s eyes narrowed momentarily before a flash of enlightenment coursed through them. He understood Elder Damian’s words.
Thanks to Vlad’s Darkness-Devouring Runic Formation, the Golden Sky Fortress had significantly diminished its dependence on Tier I Sky Dew, eliminating the need to accept such outrageous overpricing. However, had Maximo outright rejected the purchase without even attempting to negotiate, it could have alerted the Zanis Association that something was amiss. While the Darkness-Devouring Runic Formation was a military secret, no secret was ever perfectly contained.
"Ahhhh, thank you for the assist, Elder Damian. I sometimes carry on with these matters too hastily," Maximo admitted, not shying away from his mistake, acknowledging it, and making sure to learn from it.
The elder gave a small nod, his expression calm yet instructive. "Marshal, you are a general. Making decisions in a fraction of a second is in your blood. You are accustomed to seeing only the battlefield ahead of you, which is an invaluable trait in war. However, that perspective can be too narrow in diplomacy and intelligence matters." His tone was patient and wise, honed by thousands of years of dealing with political intrigues and manipulations.
...
Vlad had no idea what was transpiring in the throne room of the Marshal’s castle. He was currently in his residence, deep in sleep. His body was utterly exhausted, which was understandable after engaging in a series of intense battles against Voroe Sages, followed by rapidly constructing the Darkness-Devouring Runic Formation. Not to mention, his body was still riddled with wounds. Though none were severe, they still demanded a significant amount of vitality to heal and placed a heavy burden on his stamina.
Nearly fourteen hours passed before Vlad finally awoke. As soon as his eyes opened, a wide smile appeared on his face. Every wound on his body had healed completely, and he could feel his strength surging, stronger than before.
"It has been a long time since I was able to sleep so profoundly and for so long," the Depravita of Wrath murmured, his smile lingering. During the Leviathan War, he could barely afford a few hours of rest each week, and even then, he remained in a constant state of alertness. After the war, there had been a brief period of respite with Freya, but soon, the conquest began once more, filling each day with plans and schedules demanding his attention.
Here, however, he was just a warrior. His only mission was to kill enemies and grow stronger—nothing more. There was no army to lead, no governmental affairs to oversee, only the battlefield and his own progress.