Feinheath.
EverSword Mansion.
Rearren sat on a comfy chair while drinking a glass of red wine. Finally, after four days of constant harassnt, he could find peace in his alcohol and daydream about the things to co.
The whole nation of Feinheath hadn't taken kindly to the revelation that he was aiding a group of evil necromancers in a vile act of terrorism.
The Premium Age Royale had first co to the general populace of Pelian as a pleasant surprise, appealing to their base, carnal desire for seeing bloodshed while filling themselves up with food and drink. It had been a magnificent few months for those that couldn't afford to dine on such luxuries like whole, roasted beef, chicken, lamb and fine, aged wine every two days.
However, even the commonfolk had started to get suspicious with how people started dying in streets, all having been branded with the Creed Seal that allowed them to participate as witnesses in the Premium Age Royale.
The swift end of millions had finally co when Actuass deed everything ripe.
The series of Creeds he made in order to bring forth the event successfully dictated that all who relished in the privileges - food, protection and transport - granted to the witnesses would beco vulnerable and open to his Undeath Concept, Reverent Soul Undeath, and thus wouldn't be able resist when he extracted their souls forcefully.
The process wasn't perfect, however. Not everyone was thrilled to be in that stadium. Not everyone didn't have a lick of suspicion from the very beginning about this sudden, event of the century. Not everyone dined rrily like the rest.
But still, those who resisted were few and far between.
Millions of souls and blessings were harvested on that day.
Rearren sipped his wine and savoured it.
The other powerhouses of Pelian, the five Houses had co knocking on his door, using various ans to attempt to break into his mansion which floated above a great lake.
No ans they used could have broken through though.
Rearren had been prepared for the consequences of the Premium Age Royale long before it began. He had spent years applying his own Imagining Technique and using countless Mythical grade treasures to protect the mansion and his family.
"Haaa..."
Rearren looked up at the painting on the wall.
It would be a lie to say that he hadn't doubted himself all those years back when he first t Actuass.
The man had co to him with a ridiculous story about being a reincarnated soul from a distant world.
At first, Rearren couldn't have believed it, but as ti passed, and as he saw the vast pool of knowledge of high entities and ideas Actuass had, he had decided to entertain him despite lacking full belief.
The masked man had enticed him, telling him that rather than staying on Aigas as a fad legend that is constrained to the whims of the Royal family and supported only by the achievents from the past, Rearren and his family could beco sothing more. He could see the world outside the one he knew and carve a new path among the stars instead.
This was especially attractive to Rearren.
He had a broad imagination, a product of his technique, and he could only dream of desires beyond the mortal man's capabilities.
But now he could live them.
The more he bought into Actuass' story, the more he bought into his ideal as well.
It was a waste to die young.
Death was only to be t when one had lived their life to the fullest, exploiting ever path and pleasure they could find.
Rearren believed this with all his heart, but his wife was more concerned with the safety of their children instead. She had no interest in it and neither did she have a burning ambition for a larger life.
Rearren pushed on anyway.
Using his authority and his imnse resources, he facilitated the Premium Age Royale.
Actuass desired only this from him.
'There is sothing... soone I must et just once before we leave. Help to do this and I will honour my word. However, should that fail or perhaps not go as planned, do rember what else you promised of your own accord,' the masked man had said.
And thus, millions of souls were sacrificed.
Rearren couldn't care less.
He and his family had lived a sheltered life caring for nothing but themselves. Why would be care if the Pelian population was downsized a little?
It was all worth it.
A few days ago, Rearren had sent Rias and his wife Milissa away to rendezvous with Actuass' right hand people.
He would follow shortly.
The attention of the Houses was on him for now, but it was dwindling. The whole ordeal with the sprouting towers was wreaking havoc around Pelian. The Houses had to co out of hiding and deal with it. Most of them were no longer paying much attention to him. 'Thankfully, our King is about as useful as a dull kitchen knife,' Rearren scoffed inwardly.
The King probably couldn't care less about his people either.
As he took another sip of his wine, Rearren saw a flash of greenish black light that caused his eyes to dart in its direction.
Before he knew it, Rearren raced towards the book shelf to his right, and pulled out a large, black book.
It glead green and black, its cover and pages glowing ominously.
The sight of this book packed Rearren with grief and the slightest hints of regret. His eyes
watered, and he sniffled.
He knew what this ant.
However, rather than the shallower symbolism of it; the fall of the masked man, he was more depressed by its deeper aning.
All that ti ago, when he first colluded with Actuass, Rearren had been so enthralled by the idea of travelling outside Aigas that he had pledged his children as objects to Actuass' service.
Reon was supposed to recruited and inducted into the desires of the masked man, but he had fled from the family and gotten himself killed.
Now, Rias had willingly taken his place.
He was to be the masked man's conduit in whatever shape it took.
This would have ant simply being an agent of Actuass before, but now...
Rearren frowned and put on his cloak.
He had to honour his word.
He had to honour his dreams.
In the broad daylight and in the shade of many anti-Divining Mythical grade treasures, he set
off to give the strange, dark book to his son, sacrificing him to the whims of the odd
necromancer he had pledged to serve.
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