Lord Lioren's funeral took place as scheduled.
That day, all citizens of the Empire of Aetherlight remained in their homes, watching the grand funeral broadcast live nationwide.
For some of the elderly, this wasn't their first state funeral. But for many of the younger generation, witnessing the funeral of a Sovereign-level Lore Cardian was unprecedented.
A solemn atmosphere enveloped the entire Empire as everyone waited for the grand ceremony to begin.
Finally, Lord Lioren's body appeared on the television screen.
The Sovereign-level Lore Cardian who had dedicated everything to the Empire lay quietly in a crimson coffin.
Compared to his pale appearance at death, Lord Lioren's complexion had been carefully restored. To the uninformed, he might have appeared to be merely sleeping.
He was indeed asleep, but it was an eternal sleep.
As the camera zoomed out, four Master-level Lore Cardians, led by Azrael, appeared in the frame. Behind them stood envoys from various nations.
Given Lord Lioren's status, he would naturally be buried in the imperial mausoleum in Beijing, originally constructed to inter the emperors of the past.
However, with the emergence of Lore Cardians and the emperor's transformation into a largely ceremonial position, emperors had been denied the right to elaborate funeral rites long before the Empire's overthrow.
While still called an imperial mausoleum, the vast majority of remains currently interred there belonged to Lore Cardians of the Master level and above.
Of course, not every Master could have their remains preserved. For those whose bodies couldn't be recovered, only cenotaphs marked their sacrifice.
As the current representative of the Empire, Azrael stepped forward, preparing to close Lord Lioren's coffin.
Just then, Motian, standing among the foreign envoys, suddenly spoke. "Wait."
Hearing this, Azrael couldn't help but sigh inwardly. He'd feared Motian would cause trouble at Lord Lioren's funeral.
Unfortunately, the man was a Sovereign-level Lore Cardian, and the Empire clearly couldn't prohibit him from attending Lord Lioren's funeral without creating a diplomatic rift.
All eyes turned toward Motian.
Some gazes held concern, others indifference, and still others barely concealed satisfaction.
Everyone waited for Motian's next words.
Lucian glanced at Aramaki beside him, silently questioning whether the former emperor knew what Motian was planning.
Noticing the elder's gaze, Aramaki shook his head slightly, indicating complete ignorance of the Mughal ruler's intentions.
While he had indeed been responsible for Motian's arrangements these past few days, Aramaki had usually just accompanied him for drinks and conversation.
Before the coffin, Azrael turned after hearing Motian's words and calmly asked, "Your Majesty Motian, do you have any concerns?"
Motian grinned. "If it's just a simple funeral, wouldn't it be a waste of the Empire's kindness in inviting us to attend?"
"I have a thought."
"Let's perform a small service for Lord Lioren."
"How about that?"
The handsome man glanced at the other envoys, seemingly seeking their approval.
But none dared interfere in the conflict brewing between the Mughals and the Empire at this critical moment. They all averted their gazes, refusing to meet Motian's eyes.
Despite Motian's pleasant phrasing, this was Lord Lioren's funeral.
His actions were undoubtedly provocative.
Therefore, the Empire would never back down. Who knew what Motian might demand?
Meanwhile, the Empire's citizens watching from their televisions had no idea what was transpiring, as the live feed had been cut.
The broadcast operated on a delay specifically to prevent such incidents from reaching the public.
Standing before the crimson coffin, Azrael fixed Motian with a stern expression, his voice cold. "Your Majesty, this is the Empire of Aetherlight. I suggest you exercise restraint."
Motian appeared genuinely surprised for a moment before bursting into laughter. "Restraint?"
"Even if I didn't, what would you do to stop me?"
"That dead man behind you?"
He gestured dismissively toward where Lord Lioren's body lay.
Upon hearing this, the faces of the Empire's Lore Cardians darkened considerably. These words constituted a blatant insult to both Lord Lioren and the Empire itself.
The envoys from other nations also frowned slightly.
Motian had crossed the line, but given his status as a Sovereign-level Lore Cardian, none possessed the courage to confront him.
At that moment, a clear voice rang through the assembled crowd.
"Your Majesty Motian, isn't this inappropriate?"
It was Petrovna, finally unable to restrain herself.
Unfortunately, while she felt relieved to speak up, the Russian courtiers around her nearly wept, they hadn't expected their princess to suddenly interject.
Curious that someone had dared challenge him, Motian turned around.
After observing Petrovna's features, he curled his lips in disdain. "That's more than enough for Catherine."
"As for you..."
"Ridiculous."
Petrovna's face flushed crimson at the humiliation.
Just as the princess prepared to respond, a voice interrupted her. "That's enough, Your Highness Petrovna."
"The Empire will remember this friendship from Tsarist Russia."
It was Azrael.
After briefly acknowledging Petrovna, he turned to Motian. "Whatever you propose, the Empire will not approve."
"Now, Your Majesty, please leave."
An eerie silence descended upon the gathering.
No one had expected Azrael to be so uncompromising, daring to directly expel a Sovereign-level Lore Cardian, not even Motian himself.
The handsome man appeared stunned initially, then raised his eyebrows and spoke in an exaggerated tone. "I didn't expect it. I truly didn't expect it."
"You're indeed as interesting as I imagined."
Motian raised his index finger. "How about this, you and I will spar. As long as you can last one minute under my power, regardless of the final outcome, I'll withdraw without further disruption."
"What do you say?"
"Of course, you can refuse, but there's a price."
Motian pointed his index finger at Lord Lioren's body, the threat unmistakable.
Seeing this, Azrael realized he had no chance of protecting Lord Lioren's remains if combat erupted here.
After a moment's silence, he nodded slightly and accepted Motian's challenge.
Seeing Azrael's agreement, Motian smiled with satisfaction. He crossed his legs and floated into the air. "Since that's settled, let's find somewhere appropriate."
With a flash of golden light, both he and Azrael disappeared from view.
Lucian and the other Master-level Lore Cardians' expressions darkened at this development, regretting their decision to extend an invitation to the Mughals.
But they couldn't truly be blamed. While the Empire and the Mughals had experienced friction in the past, it hadn't been a matter of life and death. Therefore, they hadn't anticipated that Motian, a Sovereign-level Lore Cardian, would bully someone of inferior strength.
Furthermore, even if the Mughals successfully incorporated the Empire into their domain, they wouldn't possess sufficient manpower to maintain control across such vast territory.
Unless the Empire's high-ranking officials, led by Azrael, surrendered directly.
But that was clearly unrealistic.
Therefore, no fundamental conflict of interest existed between the Empire and the Mughals.
Unfortunately, it was too late for such considerations now. They could only pray for Azrael's safety.
Meanwhile, several Russian envoys surrounded Petrovna, their faces threatening tears as they pleaded, "Your Highness, please reconsider. There's no need to inform His Majesty over such a trivial matter."
Indeed, the young princess was about to contact her mother, Catherine the Great, Empress of Tsarist Russia.
She wore an unusually serious expression, her voice like frozen ground that never thawed. "Silence."
"The Empire isn't as weak as he assumes."
"And Mother will understand."
With that, Petrovna withdrew the communication card her mother had given her, typed a message, and sent it.
Her motivations were complex, partly concern for Azrael, partly fury at the humiliation Tsarist Russia had suffered.
Of course, another factor was practical investment. After all, the Empire and Tsarist Russia had already exchanged numerous interests. If something happened to the Empire, Russia's investments would likely prove worthless.
Seeing the situation was irreconcilable, the Russian envoys waited with despair for the outcome.
The princess, however, gazed toward where Azrael had disappeared and murmured, "Be careful, Lord Azrael."
Amidst swirling chaos, Azrael surveyed this unfamiliar space.
A voice, shifting from side to side and sometimes near, sometimes distant, captured his attention. "Boy, welcome to my world."
As the words faded, Motian appeared in Azrael's sight.
Seeing Azrael observing him, he reclined casually in the air. "As you can see, this space is created by the power of my cards."
"Here, even time is at my disposal."
"A minute outside can become a second here."
"Or even ten thousand years."
Whether due to the power disparity or simply his personality, Motian freely revealed his card's abilities.
After this explanation, he carefully observed Azrael's expression, seeking the reaction he desired.
To his disappointment, Azrael's face remained impassive.
Motian felt a flash of boredom and yawned. "Don't worry. I said one minute, so it'll be one minute."
"I wouldn't resort to such petty tricks."
Azrael ignored Motian's words and summoned all his cards.
Just to be safe, he manifested the Soul King directly.
Motian was, after all, a Sovereign-level Lore Cardian. Azrael couldn't afford to be careless.
Upon witnessing the Soul King, Motian finally abandoned his slouched posture and instinctively straightened. "Interesting."
"Is this the card that forced Edley to retreat?"
He'd finally gotten his wish and witnessed Azrael's ultimate weapon.
After becoming a Sovereign-level Lore Cardian, few beings could capture Motian's interest, which explained his erratic personality.
When you grow numb to the world, only two paths remain.
Either self-destruction, or seeking maximum stimulation.
Clearly, Motian had chosen the latter. Everything he'd done in the Empire thus far stemmed from this motivation.
Perhaps, compared to Aramaki, Motian was the most entertaining person Azrael had encountered.
Or perhaps this was why Motian found Aramaki interesting, like attracts like.
At this moment, Motian summoned his most powerful card. A four-headed, four-armed elder seated upon a lotus throne materialized beside him.
Upon seeing Motian's card, Azrael immediately recognized its origin: Brahma, the God of Creation, one of Hinduism's three principal deities.
Based on the deity's mythological background, Azrael immediately became wary and refrained from attacking first.
After all, Motian's condition stated he only needed to survive for one minute to succeed.
Of course, since some Hindu depictions were notoriously exaggerated, Azrael didn't expect this Brahma to possess the terrifying reality-warping powers described in actual mythology.
Naruto had already entered Six Paths Sage Mode, his orange-yellow form blazing amidst the chaos.
Beside him stood the silent Soul King and a host of Shinigami and Naruto-series cards.
Witnessing this display, Motian crossed his arms, sitting upright in the void. "Azrael."
"You don't resemble a Lore Cardian who only recently reached the Master level."
With his Sovereign-level perception, he could easily discern that, excluding the Soul King and Naruto, all of Azrael's cards were essentially Diamond-level cards.
Yet now, enhanced by their unique characteristics, they performed no worse than genuine Master-level cards.
Such exaggerated card specifications were unprecedented in Motian's experience.
Unfortunately, what might overwhelm an ordinary Master was child's play for him.
"How about this? I'll make it easier for you. From now on, I'll only use the Brahma card."
"If you can force me to summon another card, you win."
As soon as he finished speaking, before Azrael could respond, Brahma took the initiative.
Suddenly, the chaotic space began writhing, and countless stars erupted from the primordial void.
The next moment, an entire universe burst forth from a singularity's explosion.
Of course, this wasn't a genuine universe, even a Sovereign-level Motian couldn't achieve such a feat. It was merely an illusion, occurring within the space Motian controlled.
However, it proved more than sufficient to overwhelm a Master.
The explosion accompanying the universe's birth instantly engulfed Azrael's position.
But soon, pale blue spiritual pressure surged outward from the distant explosion, and Azrael and his cards reappeared within Motian's sight.
Seeing this, the handsome man simply raised an eyebrow and uttered two words calmly.
"Ten seconds."
These two words meant Azrael still needed to withstand Motian's assault for fifty seconds.
But Azrael had no intention of continuing purely defensive tactics.
As Motian watched, the Master-level card that had blocked his attack several days prior suddenly raised its right hand. Then, even those pitch-black orbs he couldn't quite comprehend suddenly became wreathed in swirling orange-yellow energy.
"Truth-Seeking Orb Rasenshuriken!"
Using the Truth-Seeking Orbs as cores and combining them with Nine-Tails' chakra, Uzumaki Naruto formed the most powerful technique he could currently manifest.
He accomplished this in a single fluid motion.
As the yellow-haired shinobi threw them, six Truth-Seeking Orb Rasenshurikens flew directly toward Motian's position.