Chapter 417: Chapter 417 – Tars War – Sacrifice
King Coleoran observed his daughter.
Selthia remained seated cross-legged before the massive Grand Crystal, her small hands resting on her knees while her closed eyes moved rapidly beneath her eyelids.
The sight never failed to unsettle him, his little girl communing with sothing ancient and alien, serving as a bridge between human understanding and cosmic intelligence.
King Coleoran watched his daughter with paternal pride but also growing anxiety.
At eleven years old, Selthia seed impossibly small next to the abyssal energy emanating from the pulsating core of their power, but her hydra moved happily beneath her skin. The creature’s agitation was a constant reminder that his daughter’s body was fine.
Bringing her here, to the outskirts of the city where the Grand Crystal pulsed with ancestral power, was always stressful for him. Not because of physical dangers… the Iron and Bronze Ring monsters were nothing against his power, and most in the vicinity of the massive crystal were now corrupted in a way that made them docile in his presence.
There were also many strong guards with them, just outside the cave… there shouldn’t be any safety concerns.
But the girl was too valuable. She was irreplaceable.
It wasn’t that he cared for her now that he had discovered her value as an interpreter of the crystal. He already loved her, and deeply… his only daughter, his spoiled princess, the light of his darkest days.
But since her translations beca more frequent and accurate, since he had discovered what she could truly accomplish…
No, since she discovered the thod to create sextuples.
The crystal had told them through Selthia, piece by piece during weeks of careful sessions. The process was sowhat complicated, more tedious than difficult, but the promise was extraordinary. If they had a double tar with Gold beasts, then they could easily create a sextuple now.
It was a marvel that could soon give them definitive victory in this war. Tars with six beasts… power that would rival ancient legends, forces that could reshape the very balance of the world.
But they were missing sothing.
The incomplete knowledge gnawed at him like a persistent ache. So close to ultimate power, yet still lacking the final piece that would make it all possible.
“What else does it tell you about the mission, little star?” the King asked, his voice loaded with the urgency that had dominated his recent weeks.
Selthia frowned, her childish face wrinkling with the effort of translating voices that existed in frequencies human minds weren’t designed to comprehend.
There was still a small instability that Selthia had ntioned. She had warned that the thod needed a small adjustnt she didn’t yet fully understand.
But they had proceeded anyway.
War wouldn’t wait for perfection, and the pressure from multiple fronts demanded imdiate action rather than cautious preparation.
“Daddy,” Selthia’s soft voice pulled the King from his thoughts. Her eyes remained closed, but there was a line of concentration between her eyebrows that indicated intense ntal effort.
“What is it, little star?”
“I’m not sure if I heard correctly because the word is strange,” Selthia murmured, her head tilting slightly as if she were trying to hear sothing very distant. “It’s… a different na from the usual words for beasts or their parts.”
The King moved closer, his heart accelerating. Any new information from the crystal could be crucial. Each revelation brought them closer to the power that would end this war and reunite his family.
“What did you understand? Anything you can tell helps rather than having nothing.”
Selthia frowned, clearly struggling with concepts that existed beyond normal language.
“It says they need ‘accustod centers’, not ‘born centers’,” she finally reported. “But I don’t know what that ans.”
The King considered the words, trying to find sense in what might be an imperfect translation of arcane concepts.
“Accustod centers?” he murmured. “Maybe… experienced cores? Mature cores?”
Selthia shook her head, her connection with the crystal allowing her to test the suggestions directly, like consulting an ancient library that responded to thought rather than speech.
“No, those aren’t the right words… The first part is indeed ‘cores’ though!”
“Cultivated cores? Developed cores?”
“No.”
The King continued suggesting synonyms, each word being bounced through Selthia toward the crystal as if he were playing a strange guessing ga with an entity that spoke a barely comprehensible language.
The frustration of near-understanding was maddening.
“Trained cores? Refined cores? Cores that are…”
“Human!” Selthia interrupted suddenly, her eyes snapping open wide. “Human cores. That’s the word in our language the crystal was looking for.”
The King felt as if he had been struck by a bolt of ice.
The simple word carried implications that made his blood run cold. Human cores weren’t materials you gathered… they were parts of living people.
“Human… cores?” he asked slowly, desperately hoping he was misunderstanding.
Selthia nodded, though she seed confused by her own translation, as if the concept didn’t quite fit together in her mind.
“Human cores. ‘Centers accustod to mana, not born with it’. It’s the sa thing to the crystal.”
The King remained silent for a long mont, the implications of what his daughter was saying settling into his mind.
The distinction the crystal was making suddenly beca clear and horrifying. Born with mana ant natural magical creatures… but accustod to mana ant humans who had learned to channel it through their beasts. Tars.
“Selthia,” he said carefully, his voice controlled despite the turmoil in his chest, “are these tar cores for the potion? The human mana vessel, and the mana veins? Not any beasts cores?”
His daughter closed her eyes again, diving deeper into communication with the crystal. The conversation that followed was mostly silent, ntal communication that the King couldn’t directly intercept.
But he could see the exact mont when Selthia fully understood what the crystal was asking for.
“They must… They must be from Silver Rank soldiers,” she finally whispered, her voice barely audible. “If we want to advance to the next level. If we want to stabilize and improve the fusion, it must be at least Silver Rank.”
King Coleoran stood staring at his daughter, feeling as if the world had stopped around him.
Silver soldiers. His own n. Lives he had sworn to protect as part of his duty as king.
“How many?” he asked, though he wasn’t sure he wanted to know the answer.
“The crystal says it depends on the base tar’s power,” Selthia responded, her voice taking on the chanical quality she used when directly translating. “For soone like Lord Venmont… maybe five or six.”
‘Five or six lives to create a sextuple tar,’ the King thought. ‘Five or six soldiers who trusted , who swore loyalty, many with families waiting for their return.’
The doubt gnawed at him like acid. Was he really considering this? Had he co so far that he would sacrifice his own n for this power?
The weight of kingship had never felt heavier. Every decision carried consequences, but this went beyond tactical losses in battle… this was deliberate sacrifice of loyal soldiers for personal gain.
But then Selthia looked up at him, and in her eyes he saw sothing that broke his heart:
Pure sadness.
“Daddy,” she asked with the small voice she used when she had nightmares, “won’t I be able to see Mommy again then?”
The question hit him like a physical blow. All his political calculations, all his strategic planning, suddenly seed trivial compared to the simple pain in his daughter’s voice.
The King knelt beside his daughter, taking her small hands in his own. In that mont, he wasn’t the leader of a kingdom or the commander of abyssal forces. He was simply a father who saw genuine pain in his daughter’s eyes.
The war, the conquest, even the survival of his kingdom… everything paled before the reality that his little girl was suffering the absence of a vital part of her family.
He sighed deeply, feeling the weight of every decision he had made to reach this mont. The path of corruption, the alliance with abyssal forces, the gradual sacrifice of his principles… all of it for the promise of reuniting his family.
“Of course you will, little one,” he said softly, his voice loaded with determination he hadn’t felt in years. “We’ll do whatever is necessary.”
After all, what was a king if he couldn’t provide for those he loved most?
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