Legacy of the Void Fleet

The Emperor’s golden eyes narrowed slightly. His tone didn’t change, but the weight behind it grew. ”Is that so…? Then speak plainly.”

Without delay, the Duke summarized everything Earl Verion had relayed to him: the secretive meeting with the Minotaur delegation, the mention of the Holy Land and the Forbidden Zone, the rumored artifact of incredible power, and most crucially, the Minotaurs’ supposed willingness to share the land instead of claiming it outright.

Zarvok remained still as he listened. His aura didn’t flicker, but to someone attuned to such presences—like Duke Flexiy—it was clear the Emperor was intrigued, and perhaps more than a little disturbed.

When the Duke finished, there was a brief pause before Zarvok finally spoke.

”This… is no trivial matter,” he said. ”If what you say is true, then the implications stretch far beyond a single noble house. It’s good that you came directly to me.”

He rose slowly, his eyes fixed on the distant horizon as if trying to see the future itself.

”The Holy Lands… they are vital to our race’s development and growth. If we truly hope to rise to the level of a Super Tier-1 state, claiming such lands is essential. For countless years—perhaps even millions—our forefathers have tried to seize the sacred regions held by other races. But their strength… their defenses… are simply too great. No matter how powerful we became, we never succeeded.”

He turned, eyes blazing with the weight of history.

”And now, for a new, unknown Holy Region to emerge… Even if, as you say, it must be shared with others, I have no issue with that. Possessing even a fraction of such a land would benefit our race immensely. I will not let this opportunity slip away because of pride or our unwillingness to share—with anyone, even a so-called lesser race like the Minotaurs.”

His voice trailed into silence. The pause was sharp, like a blade hovering just above the flesh.

Then, in a sudden, commanding tone, he asked, ”Have you confirmed the authenticity of this information? Who brought it to you? Can they be trusted?”

Flexiy answered without hesitation, ”The one who informed me is Earl Verion Flambron. His loyalty is beyond question. Though he hasn’t verified the region himself, he trusts the source—not merely an individual, but an entire organization involved in its discovery. The news came to us through the Minotaurs. And they would not bring such an offering lightly. Furthermore, the mention of the Alchemy Association and the Forgers’ Guild being involved adds serious weight to the claim.”

The Emperor’s golden eyes flickered with faint surprise, his sharp brows rising—not out of anger, but out of thoughtfulness. That alone was rare. Zarvok Starborn was a ruler whose very presence was chiseled from command and absolute certainty. Yet now, as the weight of what the Duke had said settled upon him, a more contemplative side briefly emerged.

”So… both the Alchemy Association and the Forger Guild are involved?” he repeated slowly, each word deliberate.

His tone sharpened again, but not out of dismissal—rather, a tempered edge of intrigue.

”Hmm. But since this information has not yet been verified, I cannot act rashly,” Zarvok murmured, his voice like tempered steel. ”Still… this possibility cannot be ignored.”

Then, without warning, the Emperor snapped his fingers.

In the Imperial Palace’s great throne room—an immense chamber adorned with luminous banners of the Star Empire and vast golden star-crystals—the sound echoed like a thunderclap. Moments later, a tall, elderly man dressed in white and crimson formal attire appeared at the base of the gleaming stairs that led to the Emperor’s throne.

This was the Head Butler of the Imperial Household, the man who oversaw everything within the palace. A servant in title only, he was one of the Emperor’s most trusted logistical minds.

Zarvok spoke without ceremony. ”Send an imperial-level summon to both the Alchemy Association and the Forger Guild headquarters—those based here on the Imperial Star. I want their respective leaders brought to the palace immediately. No delays. I will speak to them myself.”

The Head Butler blinked.

Not because the command surprised him—but because of what he had just learned, moments before being summoned.

”Y-Your Majesty,” he said, bowing low, ”forgive the interruption, but before I carry out your command… there is something you must know.”

The Emperor narrowed his eyes, the air turning heavier. ”Speak.”

The Head Butler straightened slowly. ”Just before I was summoned, I was informed by the Imperial Guard that… both the Alchemy Association’s Master—of the Imperial Star branch—and the Guild Master of the Forger Guild had already arrived at the palace. They are currently waiting in the guest halls… and have formally requested an audience with you.”

Zarvok’s expression didn’t shift much—but a faint glint of calculation lit his gaze.

”…So they’ve come of their own accord,” he said, almost to himself. ”How convenient. Or perhaps… how perfectly timed.”

A long pause followed.

Then, with a wave of his hand, the Emperor stood from his throne. His golden robes shimmered like starlight, and his presence intensified.

”Summon them to this chamber. Now,” he said, voice cold but decisive. ”I want to hear exactly what it is they’ve come to discuss—and whether their concerns align with what the Duke has just told me.”

The Head Butler bowed deeply again. ”At once, Your Majesty.”

As he departed swiftly to carry out the command, the Emperor stepped down from his throne, his mind already working several moves ahead. Whatever this was—it was no mere coincidence.

Before the doors to the Imperial Throne Room opened to receive the guests, Emperor Zarvok turned his golden eyes back to the hovering holographic projection of Duke Fleximy Thunder born, still waiting patiently in the secure communication channel.

”As you have just heard,” Zarvok said, his voice firm and laced with calculation, ”the leaders of both the Forger Guild and the Alchemy Association have arrived.”

He paused, giving the Duke a moment to grasp the implication before continuing.

”This cannot be a mere coincidence. Most likely… they, too, have come to seek confirmation. Confirmation of whether we were approached… and of what our intentions may be.”

Zarvok stepped forward, descending a few more steps from his elevated throne, his image glowing in contrast to the flickering blue projection of the Duke.

”They will ask for our stance. They will test the waters. So I will have to cut this communication here, Duke Fleximy.”

The Duke nodded deeply, understanding the weight of the moment. ”Understood, Your Majesty. I await your word.”

But Zarvok was not the type to forget loyalty—or ambition. He knew how to punish betrayal just as well as he knew how to reward initiative. And Fleximy had done what few dared: he had bypassed layers of bureaucracy and brought a potential treasure trove of opportunity directly to the imperial seat.

With a final approving nod, Zarvok added, ”You have done well, Duke Fleximy. You will be rewarded for your effort.”

The Duke’s expression straightened into one of proud composure, but his eyes gleamed.

”Here is my directive,” Zarvok continued, voice crisp. ”Remain alert. Prepare your fleet and your command for possible deployment.”

The Emperor did not elaborate where or what for, but he didn’t need to. The Duke, shrewd and eager, understood exactly what this meant. The mere mention of deployment in relation to such an ancient and mysterious find hinted at something far greater than political maneuvering—it hinted at imperial expansion, resource acquisition, or even more.

And if it truly involved the Holy Lands or the Forbidden Zone, as Earl Verion had claimed… then being the first noble to move under imperial sanction could elevate the Thunder born family’s legacy to heights unseen in centuries.

”Yes, Your Majesty,” the Duke said, bowing with both duty and ambition burning in his chest.

The communication ended.

And for a long moment, as the starry projection faded, Duke Fleximy Thunderborn stood alone in the quiet of his estate’s inner sanctum… smiling.

He didn’t need confirmation.

He could already see the path opening ahead.

Meanwhile, back in the Imperial Palace, exactly five minutes after the Emperor cut the transmission with Duke Fleximy, the grand obsidian gates of the throne room slowly began to open with a deep, echoing boom. The sound reverberated through the vast marble chamber like the call of a great bell announcing something momentous.

All present turned their eyes to the entrance.

Through the rising mist and swirling motes of starlight that framed the threshold, three figures walked in.

The first was the familiar and composed head butler, walking with the perfect balance of humility and ceremonial pride. Behind him were the two visitors—men of enormous stature and status, though their outward appearance was surprisingly unassuming.

The First was: The Forger Guild Master

The man walking slightly ahead had a dark red mane of hair, cut short but thick, with streaks of metallic bronze. His steps were steady, and though he wore no armor, his presence seemed to weigh the air down with every movement.