Chapter 1186: Seed of Doubt

Imperial Citadel.

The colossal fortress-palace of House Haynam, both a symbol of power and a marvel of architecture, loomed over the capital city of Aranal.

Upon the grand balcony of the Emperor’s private chamber, two figures stood in silence, gazing out at the vast city sprawled beneath them.

The weather was gloomy, and the sky hung heavy with dark clouds, promising the arrival of rain. A cool breeze brushed against Marden’s figure as he poured himself a glass of wine.

Beside him, Leland rested his hands on the marble railing, his expression dark and contemplative.

Marden took a sip of wine from his goblet, then turned to Leland with a faint smile on his lips.

"No need to brood, my friend," he said calmly. "No matter the Lord’s origins, our loyalty to him remains steadfast."

"That goes without saying, but..." Leland nodded. He then turned to the man and added with narrowed eyes, "But why would you suddenly question the Lord’s origins? That is unlike you."

"I’m not questioning anything," Marden replied, his gaze shifting to the sprawling city before him. "Just curious, that’s all..."

"You better not speak such words in front of the other Elders," Leland reprimanded lightly.

Marden simply chuckled. "Do you take me for a fool? Of course, I won’t. Unlike you, they are unpleasantly rigid and conservative."

He took another sip from the goblet, then continued, "Don’t mistake me, brother. Questioning the Lord’s origins doesn’t make me disloyal. I might even claim to be the most loyal of anyone in the Inner Circle. My actions during the Battle of Ravenfell speak louder than words, don’t you think?"

Leland remained silent, seemingly unable to retort.

Marden’s eyes flashed with a peculiar light. "We are Magi. Curiosity runs in our blood. Don’t tell me you’ve never once wondered about the Lord’s origins?"

The Emperor of Haynam heaved a long and heavy sigh. He turned to look at his friend, then shook his head ever so slightly. "You’ve changed," he said as he grabbed the jug of wine placed on the railing.

After taking a large mouthful of liquor, he placed the jug back on the railing. At last, he said, "I have thought about the Lord’s origins before. He’s a lich, which means he must have lived for thousands of years."

He paused for a moment, chuckling to himself. "In my mind, I always imagined the Lord as the last remnant of the Feypore civilization."

"I thought so, too." Marden nodded. He took another sip from the goblet, then added, "Once upon a time, that is..."

Leland turned to him and asked in a solemn voice, "So now you think he’s not from Tron? Tell me, Marden. How did you even arrive at that conclusion?"

Marden remained silent for a long time, then finally said:

"It’s just a hunch. We know that Feypore collapsed about five thousand years ago, and with it, much of its magical knowledge was lost. Countless smaller kingdoms and warlords rose across Tron, but none ever matched Feypore’s brilliance.

"Our Cult, however, was founded about three thousand years ago, around the same time as the Brotherhood. For such a powerful organization to emerge so long after Feypore’s fall... it makes me wonder if the Lord was truly a native to Tron.

"Perhaps he came from elsewhere, carrying advanced magical knowledge with him. Our Cult’s emergence and sophistication just don’t align with the timeline we know. And that raises another question... was the founder of the Twilight Brotherhood also not a native?"

Leland slipped into deep thought, his face gradually shadowed by a frown.

Seeing him in such a contemplative state, Marden continued, his voice strangely bewitching:

"And the Twilight Brotherhood... why did they appear at the same time as our Cult? Coincidence? The number of our spies we have in the Brotherhood’s upper echelon paints quite a story, don’t you think?

"If the Lord did come to Tron from somewhere else, then how did he arrive? Was it by design, or simply by accident? He’s already disclosed to us about the teleportation gate on Luna that supposedly leads to the Greater Universe. If we already have the means to leave this world, then why are we dealing with the devils?"

Seeing that Leland was now lost deep in thought, Marden couldn’t help but reveal a faint smirk—which he quickly hid. He took a sip from the goblet, then patted the man’s shoulder.

"Don’t think too much about it," he said with a light chuckle. "Perhaps these are just the ramblings of a madman who has lost everything. In the end, when the day of reckoning comes, the world will belong to the Lord, and we shall be the ultimate victors!"

Leland turned to look at Marden and smiled faintly. He replied with a slight nod, "Yes, you’re right."

Yet the lost look in his eyes told Marden a different story.

"Anyway," Marden began, changing subjects. "My work here is done. I’ll be visiting the rest of the portals and reinforcing the runes over there. I suppose you won’t be coming with me?"

"No, I..." Leland suddenly found himself at a loss for words.

"Ah, yes." Marden nodded. "You have to prepare for war with the rest of those emotionless brutes. I understand. I would love to have your company while I travel the world, but I suppose you can’t leave your post."

He took another sip from the goblet, his gaze lingering on the darkening horizon. "It will take me several years to visit every portal and finish my work there. I hope that when we meet again, it will be in a place less burdened by blood and duty."

Leland glanced at him, a faint but genuine smile on his face. He stretched his arms and offered a hug. "May fortune be with you, brother."

"And you, brother," Marden replied, returning the embrace. He placed his empty goblet on the railing, then turned to leave.

Leland suddenly called out to him, "Where are you heading now?"

"...I suppose I’ll go to Indus first, and then Yen-Lu," Marden answered after a brief pause, thinking it over.

"Well, then." Leland’s expression turned solemn. "Take extra care when you visit Ulier. You’re a wanted man there. Best believe every Mana Core Magus will be hunting for you."

Marden simply smiled in return. He turned around and walked away, leaving behind his parting words:

"Not

every

Magus."