Acryon, Acadian Empire.
At the heart of the Empire’s capital lay a luxurious and sprawling palace.
It was ho to none other than the royal family that had been ruling the Empire for over two thousand years.
Long ago, when Ulier was torn apart by war and bloodshed, the Founding Emperor, Arnold Acadia, rose from the chaos.
He was a Magus of unmatched vision and might. With unyielding resolve, he united the warring factions, forming a single faction from the ashes of a shattered continent.
His successor, the Second Emperor, Gerald Acadia, was no conqueror, but a visionary statesman. Under his reign, the Empire flourished to even greater heights.
The Empire’s cities grew grand, its magic and knowledge expanded, and its influence spread far beyond its borders. It was a golden age of glory and progress.
Now, the current Emperor ruled with quiet strength and unwavering resolve.
Everything looked safe and stable on the surface, but a shadowy storm was brewing underneath... one that would encompass not just the Empire, but the whole world.
In this age of false security and growing threats, the Third Emperor had brought stability to this realm. Not through expansion, but through vigilance.
Under his watchful eyes, the Empire stood firm, its foundations firr than ever.
But there was one critical factor that made all of this possible—his strength.
If the Second Emperor, Gerald Acadia, was considered to be arguably one of the, if not the, strongest Magi on Ulier, then his son, the Third Emperor, was believed to be even stronger.
Moreover, these two weren’t the only Mana Core Magi within the Empire. As for the exact number, no one truly knew.
And that uncertainty was exactly the reason why the Cult of Bones has marked them as the primary obstacle to their grand design.
Even the Sovereign Union in Europa did not pose as much threat as the Acadian Empire!
And that is why... the Cult of Bones had chosen the Grand Magus Tournant to make their move. But the Magi from the Acadian Empire were no fools either.
After all, there was a reason why the Emperor Eritus, Gerald Acadia, had personally gone to secretly oversee the Grand Magus Tournant.
Every thirty years, a mber of the Acadian Royal Family would arrive at the tournant venue to preside over the opening ceremony, formally declaring its comncent.
Traditionally, it was always a Mana Vortex Magus who perford the honors.
But this ti, no one—except for three people—knew that Gerald Acadia was also secretly present in Ravenfell.
The first two people were naturally the Headmaster of Saratoga Castle, Marcus Blackwood, and the Dark King, Adam Constantine.
And the third one... currently stood on the balcony on the highest floor of the royal palace. On the marble railing before him lay a jug of half-empty wine and a goblet.
The man reached out for the goblet and leisurely took a sip, his gaze seemingly piercing through the dark clouds and landing on Selene and Luna.
He was tall for a human—just over two ters—with broad shoulders and a powerful, muscular build.
Long, wavy blond hair cascaded down his sculpted back and shoulders, reaching all the way to his waist. His eyes were a striking gold, carrying a piercing gaze that seed to see through everything.
He wore white silk robes adorned with golden embroidery, the fabric clinging to his fra and accentuating his physique.
His skin was fair and healthy, and his features were sharp—high cheekbones, a strong jawline, and an undeniably handso face.
But what stood out most wasn’t his height, build, or looks.
It was the mysterious symbol of a golden sun etched at the center of his forehead!
This was the Third Emperor of Acadia.
A formidable Mana Core Magus.
Lucian Acadia!
His golden eyes flickered with yearning as he gazed at the twin moons and the stars in the distant cosmos. A long ti later, a sigh escaped his lips, and he lowered his gaze.
The Hanging Gardens of Acryon were a marvel of architecture and magic. This was the Inner City, ho to influential aristocrats and other affluent Magi. And at the center of it all was the residence of the Royal Family.
His eyes flashed with golden light under the ghostly glow of the twin moons as he scanned the ostentatious buildings belonging to the nobles in the Inner City.
They bask in luxury and flaunt their titles as if power is their birthright, Lucian thought to himself as his golden eyes narrowed, gleaming with disdain.
They pursue magic not as a path, but as a prize... sothing to flaunt at court banquets and duels of pride.
Riches, status, vanity... that’s all they care for now.
They’ve forgotten what magic truly is.
His expression gradually darkened.
Where is the discipline? The devotion?
Fools!
Most of you would crumble if I stripped you of your titles.
You disgrace the legacy of the Empire and insult the very essence of what it ans to be a Magus.
Lucian Acadia detested such people.
In fact, most of his sons and daughters had also turned out to be like that. He truly worried about the future of the Empire.
They lack hunger, he thought.
Unlike the current leaders of the Four Pillars, who were born with nothing to their nas and slowly carved their way to the peak of Tron, my children have had it easy...
Too easy!
The image of a raven-haired youth surfaced in his mind.
Lucian had had his eyes on Adam since before the world called him the Dark King.
A youth becoming a Mana Liquefaction Magus at the re age of twenty was already astounding. But his later accomplishnts made it seem like sothing out of a legend.
None of them will last a second against him, he thought to himself, letting out a quiet, helpless sigh.
He poured himself another drink, then took a sip.
With a pondering look on his face, he wondered, Hmm, how do I convince the Dark King to join the Empire?
Should I marry Janine off to him? No, I suppose, one won’t be enough for soone of his caliber.
Hmm, perhaps five?
Hell, I don’t even mind marrying off all my daughters to him.
Suddenly, his eyes narrowed. A mont later, the space before him trembled ever so slightly. Then, a tiny portal to the Spirit World materialized, and from it, a golden feather shot out.
Effortlessly catching the feather in his grasp, Lucian looked at it and frowned.
A letter from Father?
It was strange to him because his father, Gerald Acadia, almost never spoke to him unless it was sothing truly important.
Lucian wondered what it could be this ti.
And when he read the contents of the feather...
His face instantly darkened.
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