It was supposed to be a rotational mission, with a new replacement every thousand years.
But Angus was already into his third millennium, and still no one had arrived to take over.
'Three millennia.'
Never mind the fact that he had never fully controlled the dozen or so worlds he'd been awarded; so many years had passed now.
While the envoys stationed in those worlds would send reports and resource lists every now and then...
...who knew how much was being skimmed off the top, never appearing on those lists at all.
It was a lie to say Angus didn't regret it.
He had only himself to blame.
After all, before he competed for the Ancient Divine Source Blood to ascend to the Authority Level, Angus had been nothing more than an Ascetic who only knew how to train relentlessly and fight in one war after another, all in the hopes of quickly growing strong.
He didn't understand the intricate politics of the Titan Race at all.
