The internal structure of the Astral Requiem was divided into two primary martial wings that rarely intersected.
On one side stood the Saint Knights, a prestigious and small circle consisting only Leylin's closed confidantes and the seven orphans rescued from the Nightless City. On the other side was the Rebel Hearts, the larger, more turbulent wing of the Bloodline Knights.
Among the youths, only Ivy and three others had successfully triggered their life seeds to reach the Grand Knight level. Upon their breakthrough, they had immediately transitioned to the high-level Saint Knight meditation techniques provided by Leylin.
However, Leylin's ruby-colored eyes remained fixed on Ivy for a different purpose. He was planning to steer her toward the path of a Bloodline Knight.
Unlike the common Grand Knights who required a volatile and life-shortening bloodline transition ritual, Ivy was a natural possessor of the Pala Nighthawk bloodline. Her genetic heritage gave her a far greater chance of success and stability.
"Your Highness, Commander Gregory has apprehended the assailant," Ivy spoke softly, breaking the silence of the throne room. "But the prisoners suffered a great degree of injuries and were also poisoned by the Lord Emissary. They are barely being kept alive in the Acheron Oubliette. The chief investigator has yet to be given permission and awaits your order."
Ivy explained her report with the poised cadence of a steward. She had been groomed by Anna to one day take over the administrative mantle, and Anna who viewed the girl as a little sister had ensured she was the one to deliver such high-priority information to Leylin.
"I will see to it myself," Leylin nodded, his face an unreadable mask of marble. "Were there any casualties?"
"Yes, sir. Two Bloodline Knights died in battle and Lord Greem suffered some injuries. Commander Gregory was also lightly injured, but thanks to the Lord Emissary, no significant damage was suffered by the reinforcement team."
The "Lord Emissary" Ivy referred to was none other than the Black Horrall Snake. With strength equivalent to a Peak Rank 1 Magus, it was far too potent a weapon to leave idle. Leylin frequently dispatched it on high-stakes missions, and within the Requiem, the serpent was respected as an honorable magical pet, a living extension of the Master's will.
"There has been a significant decline in the number of Bloodline Knights," Leylin mused, his fingers tapping rhythmically on the armrest. "I shall reimburse their numbers soon. Until then, inform Anna to deploy the various Four-Wings department heads and Saint Knights to key positions."
As Leylin discussed the tactical deployment, Ivy shifted uncomfortably. She and her peers were considered "Two-Wings" talents—the designated future of the Requiem's martial force. With the elite resources, specialized potions, and top-tier training facilities at her disposal, reaching the Peak Grand Knight level was a certainty.
The choice ahead of her was a chasm. One path was the rigorous, orthodox route of the Saint Knights, a path available only to the select few under Leylin's direct tutelage.
The other was the Bloodline Knight easier to achieve, but turning the practitioner into an expendable tool with only a few years of life remaining.
Ivy was acutely aware of the "dead-end" nature of the Saint Knight department. While the path was prestigious, the next step toward becoming a Spirit Knight was still under research and inaccessible.
Furthermore, in terms of raw, explosive power, a Saint Knight could not compare to a Bloodline Knight who ignited their life force. This was why even veterans like Mandal, Freed, and Fraser remained stuck, unable to achieve the Saint Knight rank despite their loyalty.
Leylin was simply too busy to guide every individual personally. But Ivy, being the only other person with a Warlock-compatible nature in the Requiem besides Leylin, sensed his unspoken desire. He wanted a precedent, a success story to stabilize the Bloodline Knight path.
The next evolutionary step for bloodline knights, the Blood Sovereign, was already mapped out in Leylin's A.I. Chip. The only thing preventing the experiment was the fragility of the test subjects. If Ivy volunteered, Leylin's bloodline knowledge could finally bridge the gap between unstable soldier and undeniable sovereign.
Leylin looked at Ivy, seeing the conflict swirling in her soul. He spoke in a sudden, reminiscing tone. "There was once an orphan kid, who was hated and feared by all around him. They shunned him, detested him, but he always kept going forward..."
He paused, his gaze boring into hers. "...He made up his mind to achieve his goal, and despite a precarious and seemingly impossible way, he gained strength. When everyone thought there was no way he could get stronger, that this idiot was done, he kept going. He kept getting stronger."
"Conventional paths are orthodox for a reason, Ivy. Because they work. But sometimes the world around us does not operate in a set path. To achieve what your heart truly yearns for, you must take a path that can solidify your conviction."
Ivy's eyes grew red, her small fists clenching until her knuckles turned white.
"Your mortal enemy, the Yale family, has joined Sage Gotham Hut," Leylin continued, leaning back into his throne. "The principal of that organization is Guru, a Rank 2 Magus."
"If you wish to kill the head of the Yale family, the Saint Knight path is enough but you too would die. Sage Gotham wouldn't let you go scot-free after provoking them. If you stay under my castle, not even Guru can touch you. But once you leave and cross to the other side of the golden desert, the Astral Requiem has neither the means nor the reason to protect you."
Leylin's voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper. "But if you choose to volunteer as a Bloodline Knight... I cannot simply let you die. I would need to send people to protect my valuable asset."
The hint was as heavy as a mountain.
"My life's goal is to kill the Yale family head and exterminate their entire bloodline," Ivy declared, her voice trembling with a mixture of rage and resolve. "This is a bloodline feud that must be paid in blood. The Langster name will not be sullied by me, nor will I continue to rely on your Highness's kindness like a vermin. I choose the Bloodline Knight path. I wish to fulfill my goal, I wish to return, and I wish to serve the rest of my life as your sword!"
"Good... good," Leylin's lips curled into a faint, dark smile. "Go inform the head warden of the Acheron Oubliette. I shall be arriving soon. Command him to keep all prisoners alive and gather them together. As for an investigation into the attack... there is no need. The captive wouldn't speak, and quite frankly, I don't care who the mastermind is. Anyone who is not us, is against us."
"I understand, sir," Ivy bowed deeply and turned to leave, her silhouette framed by the flickering shadows of the hall.
Leylin stood up from his throne and his boots clicked rhythmically against the cold stone floor, the sound echoing through the silent hall.
He reached the rear of his throne, where a serpent laden with ancient, moth-eaten scrolls in its mouth slid aside at a touch of his spiritual force, revealing a narrow, descending passageway.
At the end of this tunnel stood a gate. It was unlike any other in the mansion; it was forged from a pitch-black, unknown alloy that seemed to swallow the light of his surrounding magical lanterns.
Deep, pulsing violet runes were etched into its surface, shivering like living veins.
Leylin stood before it, his expression indifferent, and began the incantation. His voice was low, carrying a strange, resonant frequency that caused the air to vibrate.
"By the Astral Blessings that veil the void, and the blood that flows through the Eternal River Plains... Open the Mediterranean Gate to the Abyss and acknowledge thy Master!"
Rumble!
The heavy gates groaned, parting slowly to reveal a chamber that stood in stark contrast to the medieval aesthetic of the Magus world.
The room was vast and blindingly white, constructed from a seamless, ceramic-like material.
It looked futuristic, almost sterile, save for the millions of shimmering silver runes and magic inscriptions that crawled across the walls, floor, and ceiling like a digital web. This was the true brain of the Astral Castle.
"A.I. Chip, begin scanning. Monitor the energy output of the central formation," Leylin commanded internally.
[Beep! Scanning... High-density energy source detected at the center of the formation. Subject: Artificial Consciousness Body (Designation: Eternal Pulse). Total Inscription Power Level: Grade 3A. Synchronization with Castle Arrays: 99.8%.]
A cascade of technical data and inscription notes flooded Leylin's vision, projected by the chip.
[Technical Log: Inscription Note #774. Elemental Particle Flow: Stabilized at 4,500 units/sec. Spatial Anchor Strength: Sufficient to withstand Rank 3 spatial turbulence. Consciousness Frequency: 14.2 Hz. (High compatibility with the Eternal River Plains Secret Plane).]
In the center of the room, a sphere of ethereal, swirling light hovered within a cage of crystalline pillars. This was a body of consciousness birthed from the secret plane itself.
It pulsed with a rhythmic, incomplete spiritual wave, the same wave emitted by the massive Platinum Gate that served as the entrance to the Eternal River Plains.
This "intelligence" was the key. Leylin had forcefully severed this consciousness from the gate and sealed it here. He knew that the other major organizations holding the remaining six entrances had done the same.
Originally, the Light Magus had 4 of the seven gates leaving just 3 for the Dark Magi which prompted them to scheme by using a traitor (Fang Ming, orginal Leylin) to scheme the destruction of the consciousness sealed within the Four Seasons Garden.
If the consciousness were destroyed, the Platinum Gate would collapse, stripping the Light Magi of an entrance and evening the odds.
But Leylin had seen through their schemes from the very start. By seizing the seventh entrance and its consciousness, he had shifted the entire balance of the South Coast.
'Control over the gate is control over the war,' Leylin mused, his eyes reflecting the silver glow of the runes.
In the Magus world, the entrance wasn't just a door; it was a logistics hub. Gaining control meant the rapid transport of troops and the immediate extraction of spoils. By holding the seventh gate, Astral Requiem had become the fulcrum of the conflict.
He offered a neutral ground for commerce and opportunity, a status quo that the major powers were still too terrified to shatter.
The recent probe by the ten Dark Magi was merely a pebble thrown into a lake to gauge its depth. They wanted to see how the "ghost" of Astral Requiem would react.
'Soon, it won't just be newly advanced Magi. They will send accomplished Peak Rank 1s... and eventually, the Rank 2s will have to come out of their holes,' Leylin thought.
He didn't fear the coming storm. On the contrary, a cold, predatory smile played across his lips. The more high-level Magi that died, the more high-quality souls he could harvest.
"The more chaos there is, the more it feeds my Soulbound Devourer," he whispered to the white room.
To a Warlock, war wasn't a tragedy; it was a harvest. And Leylin Farlier was the finest reaper the South Coast had ever seen.