Chapter 122: Desperate help
In the imperial palace, a tense meeting unfolded within the emperor’s opulent chambers, its walls adorned with glowing runes and tapestries of conquests. The emperor sat at the head of a polished obsidian table, his presence commanding despite the faint pallor of illness. Flanking him were his successors alongside the Third Imperial Commander, Kiol Malakar, and the head of the Darkan family. Their faces were grim, the air thick with unease.
For months, after hearing of the storm’s movements, the Vodal Kingdom had demanded answers for the disappearance of one of their family’s gods. Due to the immense pressure they put up, the emperor had summoned the Darkan head to recount the war’s details—what happened and what didn’t—to craft a response.
Normally, Solaris would have dismissed such accusations with a sneer, blaming the Vodal’s defeat. But with the storms’ presence, they had to be careful, lest a full-blown war occur. And the storms’ sudden silence wasn’t a good omen.
The only plausible theory was chilling: the storms had allied with the Vodal Kingdom. Given the Astras’ abilities, it wasn’t far-fetched to imagine their army had already begun infiltrating the empire. And that exact reason was what worried them.
Kael, the First Prince, broke the silence, his voice steady but sharp. "They haven’t attacked yet because they’re cautious of the possibility that we have such means."
Heads nodded, including Kiol Malakar’s. "Yes, they’re probably holding back for that reason," he agreed, his fingers tapping the table.
A new voice cut in, soft but piercing. "It’s strange, isn’t it? Only an apostle can summon a god’s descent, yet you say one did. How are the Darkan still alive?" All eyes turned to him.
Argon Sol’aris, the Third Prince of the empire. He was the only successor who didn’t meet or speak to Baines that day. With the signature look, he had a lean frame, relaxed, but his eyes glinted with calculation.
The emperor’s gaze lingered on his youngest son. ’So, you’re interested in this too, huh,’ he thought. Among the successors, he was the one he saw the least, and surprisingly, he rarely knew where he was and what he did.
"What are you implying?" the emperor asked, his tone measured.
Argon’s lips curved into a faint smile. "Unless the wind god saw something worth sparing or that interested him, there’s no reason the Darkan army survived a divine descent."