Arcadia’s Wealthiest Man
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Sitting in the Hellforge, Kilian browsed the pages of a large, ominous grimoire while the docile Inyoka looked over his shoulder. Contrary to his usual looks, Kilian now wore a pair of rectangular eyeglasses, and while he seemed calm, veins occasionally bulged on his forehead.

An ancient relic crafted following Adramelech’s ascension as Fehl Prince and enhanced across his life, the Grimoire of Adramelech contained all spells and Arcana known to its fehl creator. Whenever he learned something new, the grimoire automatically recorded it. However, without Adramelech’s blessing, most couldn’t endure the content.

Even for Kilian, the Grimoire’s spells, hexes, rituals and incantations put his mind to a severe stress. So much in fact that he had to craft unique glasses to shield his eyes and mind from the Grimoire’s side effects. And while Kilian couldn’t put most things above Archon rank to use, he still learned plenty.

But as Kilian digested fehl knowledge, an alarm rang from his watch. Closing his book, Kilian turned the alarm off and left the Hellforge. That he could use his outside items in the Hellforge always intrigued him. After all, unlike those he brought in, Kilian’s body remained outside, with his clothes and items intact. But considering the level of technology the forge controlled, it wasn’t that surprising.

Back in the physical world, Kilian’s eyes opened. But while Lena and the aistis remained close by, Jezebel was gone. Gone, yes. Far enough that even with the Fehl Bond, Kilian couldn’t sense her presence. She only left three words behind: “I will return.”

When the words first echoed in her mind, and they realized Jezebel’s departure, Lena felt a conflicting mix of joy and loss. Joy because without Jezebel, she became the second-in-command—the closest to her beloved master—and loss because without Jezebel, she lost her partner.

And though it’d only been five hours, Lena couldn’t help but worry.

Meanwhile, the party still raged with Urag enjoying the company of two lovely students.

“You know, not to brag but I’m super close to the boss. Stick with me and who knows where you’ll end up—if you catch my drift,” Urag chortled as the girls poured him glasses of zilac. The party still raged and unlike Lena, Urag had no fear regarding Jezebel’s current or future situation.

In the Mortal Plane, no one could harm her. In the Fehl Plane, no one dared. As for other places, unless she personally sought trouble, most entities of that level didn’t have time to harm for naught.

But as music and booze flowed alongside wild dances, an alarm akin to Kilian’s resounded in every corner of the academy, seizing the attention of its 3,000 students.

“From brown to purple-gold, from servants to students, all are summoned to the Grand Arena,” Hanns’ low-pitched voice boomed alongside the alarm, and without delay, hordes of students left their room to rush toward the Grand Arena.

The battleground used to assess students’ fighting abilities and select the purple-gold, the Grand Arena also hid the gate toward the Sura Plane. Dawn had barely reared its head; for Hanns to summon all students on such short notice presaged nothing but disasters.

Even the students slouching at Kilian’s party forcefully rose to their feet and crammed the doors as they raced toward the arena. “Let’s go,” Kilian ordered, and in tandem, the three left their seats to head toward the gathering place. Shaped like a massive roman coliseum, the arena could accommodate 83,000 people. Even at an average of six servants per student, it didn’t lack space.

Hanns stood in the middle of the arena, flanked by Adam, the Chair of Light, and another high-ranking chair. Several professors surrounded them.

“Where is Esther?” Hanns asked Adam and the surrounding professors. They either shrugged or remained immobile.

At that time, Esther stood in her study, facing two von Skoll youths who, despite the commotion, remained stoic.

“Alan and Irma, was it? How may I help you?” Esther cooly asked. Her words creased the pair’s brows. And as if reading through their doubts, she pursued, “Was it about your Technomancy grades?”

Taking the hint, the two bowed in greetings and presented two gift boxes to Esther. “Our father heard that your daughter’s future coronation still faces many obstacles and has us send you these tokens of his appreciation. Please accept them,” Alan explained.

“I don’t remember being that close to your father, but never mind, better have one more friend than foe,” Esther replied as if caving in to the von Skoll name and received the two’s gifts. Their task complete, Alan and Irma left Esther’s study. But before she followed them, her eyes brushed past an invisible nano-spying-machine hidden in her chair.

It didn’t take long for Alan, Irma and Esther to join the coliseum’s bluster. The two von Skolls picked two casual seats, while Esther joined her peers.

“What took you so long?” Hanns barked as Esther settled behind him.

“I had to receive bribes from two of your house’s youths,” Esther countered in a remarkably detached tone, and with no time to argue, Hanns shifted his attention back on the students.

“Thank you all for answering my summon on such short notice. As you know, due to safety concerns, the academy canceled the usual Sura Hunting Selection and planned to send you all to the Sura Plane in the upcoming days. However, the situation has changed, and we must leave now.”

*BANG*

Hanns had barely finished his words that the buzzing blast of plasma salvos hammered the ears of all on the scene. At the academy’s door, Rupert’s 3,000 fighters emerged from their cloaking and fired thousands of plasma beams at the island. The academy’s energy shield kicked into gear, withstanding the beams’ assault.

Instantly, panic filled the scene. But as the students readied to lose their shit, Hanns raised his hand, and all the dra across several kilometers became his to control. Even the 3,000 students’ dra no longer obeyed them, forcing them all to sit without disturbance.

“The Dra Shackle,” Kilian noted. The first of the Three Shackles, the Dra Shackle enabled Archons or above to turn all dra across kilometers against non-Archons. The ability ensured that before breaking their First Shackle, non-Archons couldn’t defeat Archons. However, for bottom-tier Archons, it was more taxing than beneficial. Unless faced with no other choice, they wouldn’t use it.

“Several hours ago, His Majesty and the Grand Master of the Blood Rose awoke from their comas, and exterminated the rebel forces. 800,000 rebels perished at Orloth’s borders, 1.2 million at Erlom, and 2 million at Koln. The treasonous Prince of Koln was executed alongside all members of his branch house. And all rebel nobles now face house extermination. Hundreds of aristocrats suspected of collusion with the rebels have already committed suicide.

Yes, a good chunk of you no longer have parents.

Yes, you might not have a tomorrow either. Some are doomed, but for others, it will depend on how the elder council chooses to investigate this case, Hanns broke the news, and instantly, silence fell.

Three-thousand students’ eyes widened in disbelief, the worst soiled their pants, while the best’s faces twisted in horrible grimaces. Only a tiny portion maintained their cool, and as she sought her master’s reaction, Lena was startled to see Kilian biting his lower lip to restrain a burst of laughter.

“Adam, pass my verbal decree and have the elder council exonerate all nobles that owe me money. I will give you a list. Also, I want the Imperial City to throw three days of celebration because damn it all, I am rich. So rich that I can buy the state!”

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