Planet Jura — Imperial Capital
Whoosh!
Emily dropped a thick, overstuffed file onto her desk after spending the last hour buried in its pages. The faint echo of paper and tal reverberated through the quiet office. "Heh~," she sighed wearily, rubbing the space between her eyes with slow, circular motions until the tension began to fade from her temples. For nearly fifteen minutes she simply sat there, eyes half-closed, letting her thoughts drift like dust in sunlight.
When she finally felt ready to continue, she straightened her posture, exhaled deeply, and moved the finished file aside. Then, without hesitation, she pulled a new one toward her—its edges frayed and its weight promising yet another mountain of work—and opened it from the very first page.
...More than a century ago, when His Excellency had returned from the Middle Belt, the Empire already possessed around seventy powerful soul masters—individuals whose nas alone could command respect. Those seventy were spread among the three imperial domains, acting as overseers of almost everything that sustained civilization: industry, inscription training programs, and scientific research. Every aspect of progress bore their imprint... except for one—warfare.
Perhaps that very restraint was what had displeased His Majesty back then?
Regardless, many among those seventy were eventually reassigned to the Imperial Headquarters to aid Emily in the enormous task of administration. They might not have shared her intuitive sense for order and governance, but with their naturally potent souls and power levels asured in thousands of units, they possessed formidable ntal and analytical capabilities—enough to shoulder so of her burden. And indeed, they did.
Their duties were focused: handling minor requests directly, summarizing larger projects, auditing their histories, and then forwarding the refined reports to Emily’s desk.
Did this reduce her workload? Hardly. With the Empire’s explosive territorial expansion and the sheer number of legions requiring logistical support, their help felt like a gentle breeze in a blazing inferno—a brief relief amid endless flas. Still, it was only thanks to their presence that Emily hadn’t completely collapsed under the overwhelming pressure when the True Beginning Empire grew to encompass hundreds of planets back then.
But everything changed after His Majesty returned.
From the day he ca back holding those two fabled volus—the Atlases of Soul— the foundation of the Empire entered a new age of transformation, one so sudden and vast it could only be called an awakening.
The first book, written with profound clarity, explained every stage of soul developnt—from the mont of awakening to the ascension into the Silver Grade. His Majesty ordered copies distributed to every academy across imperial space, enforcing a sacred oath through the advanced tablets for anyone who wished to read it.
At first, the students hesitated. But curiosity is a fire difficult to smother. One by one, students of the Soul Path gave in to that irresistible pull, and as they imrsed themselves in the teachings, sothing extraordinary occurred: within re years, many of them achieved the title of Soul Master.
Their transformation spread like wildfire. Each new success story inspired another, until thousands abandoned their old ambitions of becoming wealthy rune masters. They no longer cared for gold or prestige—they longed for power, for transcendence, for the second book. The promise of unimagined strength burned in their hearts like a new dawn.
And Emily did not stand in their way. After instituting an even stricter oath, she granted the Silver Soul Masters access to the second volu—allowing them to study it in solitude for years if they wished.
This ti, their path was not plagued by the curses of the Second Academy Head. No longer were they forced to battle one another for knowledge. Instead, they spent their years in peaceful study, deep ditation, and ticulous experintation.
And when at last they completed that sacred text—the one they knew would forever redefine their lives—they erged transford. Yet Emily had one more surprise waiting for them. She introduced a revolutionary technique among their ranks: The Minor Soul Filling technique, better known as Soul Hunting.
It was an invention of His Excellency himself—a thod that enabled a soul master’s soul creatures to train autonomously, venturing beyond their domains to hunt and capture nearby initial souls. Once ensnared, those souls could be pierced and their essence imdiately absorbed to nourish and expand the master’s own soul domain.
Of course, they discovered that the technique contained nurous seals, restrictions, and layers of protective bindings—each one designed to prevent their soul domains from collapsing, overloading, or even detonating under the imnse pressure. Despite all those barriers, the results were nothing short of miraculous.
If traditional ditation and conventional absorption techniques had once granted them only the faintest of connections—allowing them to attract weak, initial souls from insects, trees, and other lowly life forms—and if acquiring even a single strong initial soul once every decade had been considered a rare triumph, then the Soul Hunting Technique had rewritten those laws entirely.
Now, with this technique, the impossible beca routine. Even an average practitioner could obtain one powerful initial soul per session, sotis more, depending on the place they are searching and the strength of their own soul creatures. What had once taken ten years could now be achieved in the span of an afternoon. The growth of a Soul Master was no longer a slow ascent— it beca a blazing climb toward transcendence.
With The Atlas of Soul as their foundation, the new generation of trainees gained an understanding of soul essence unlike anything the Empire had seen before.
They could now sense the birth, rhythm, and decay of souls around them. Their insights differed in depth, of course, but all of them—without exception—could reach the Silver Tier eventually.
Whether in a decade, a century, or even two, their advancent was no longer a matter of chance, but of ti.
And with the Soul Hunting Technique eliminating the age-old limitation of slow absorption, progress surged at a pace that defied every previous era’s logic.
To further empower this new wave, senior Soul Masters began presenting each disciple, upon their oath of initiation, with a personal soul creature—often a fox, wolf, or hound—capable of independent hunting. They were the seed of hunters, designed to venture outward and ensnare unbound initial souls so their masters could absorb their force directly.
These advancents—combined knowledge, refined discipline, and revolutionary practice—turned the Soul Path into the most sought-after calling across hundreds of worlds. On many planets, it was no longer just an option; it was the path, the very foundation upon which one could rise to power, prestige, and immortality.
Over a century passed since His Majesty’s fateful return, and in that ti, the True Beginning Empire evolved into a bastion of Silver Soul Masters, a living monunt to soul evolution.
Of course, their strengths varied. Most still wielded less than ten thousand units of soul force. But so, their strength exceeding one hundred thousand units. Such beings were no longer re Soul Masters; they were forces of nature, capable of reshaping entire battlefields with a thought.
This surge of power rippled through the Empire like a living tide, transforming every system, every foundation, every institution—especially the Headquarters, the Empire’s brain and heart, where every law, plan, and dream took shape.
...Emily’s duties, once crushing and endless, were now refined. She no longer had to micromanage the distant conflicts or respond to the chaotic flow of minor crises across the Empire. Her focus narrowed to the great issues—the monuntal projects carefully condensed into reports and bound files.
For the first ti in decades, she could afford to pause, to breathe, to exist. There were even rare monts when she could train... or reclaim sothing almost forgotten: sleep.
"Hmm..." Emily leaned her cheek against her right fist, halfway through reading another thick report. Her thoughtful gaze turned soft and distant.
His Majesty... who is that man, truly?
Was he really just the son of so minor noble house from Jura? Or was he sothing far beyond human comprehension? Everything he touched transford—projects, people, even entire systems—turning effortlessly into power, like gold spun from the void.
In a single generation, with nothing more than a few designs and doctrines, he created soul-based armies—forces that rivaled or surpassed the mightiest soul legions of the Middle Belt.
While other factions relied on grim, unethical specter farms to harvest and imprison souls, the Empire possessed the brilliance of Soul Hunting, a technique pure, elegant, and infinitely sustainable.
The only true obstacle now was structure. The Soul Masters remained dispersed—each one following their own vision, their own pride. Many drifted toward the Cradle Empire and the Grave Empire, seeking to broaden their horizons and to ta stronger soul creatures during warti. But there, they were treated as ordinary soldiers—naless, unrecognized, unappreciated. They did not know how to organize themselves, and none of the Three Empires seed to understand their potential.
Emily’s lips curled into a faint, tired smile as a spark of ambition glimred behind her eyes. Maybe... once I finish my daily duties... I could try to unite them. Bring order to the chaos. Turn the Soul Masters into sothing greater—sothing enduring. A Syndicate, perhaps... or even a Council of Souls...
Knock knock!
"Headquarters lady Emily, have you finished reviewing the requests?"
Her daydream shattered like glass. "Ah—sorry!" she replied quickly, straightening her back and pulling the next file toward her. "I’ll get right back to it now!"
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