Lord Malcon wasn't surprised by his High Lord's lack of politeness. Lord Miller was known to be a straightforward person who hated roundabout ways and plots. His greatest passion was combat, and he saw no problem in solving everything with fists and swords.
When situations arose that required formulating plans and devising complex attacks, he delegated the task to Lord Malcon, who was known for creating almost infallible strategies.
"I understand, my Lord, but in this situation, I only have one piece of advice to give."
"You without a plan? That's unexpected, but proceed."
"The best thing to do in this situation is to gather information, but if we send too many spies, they will be noticed, as the royalty is on alert; I suggest we reduce the number of spies and increase the number of runic puppets for information gathering."
"Would that be reliable? After all, runic artifacts are very recent. Wouldn't it be better to use spies equipped with legendary artifacts?" commented Lord Steven, who had the largest spy network in the Nobles' Table.
"Lord Steven, your skepticism about runic equipment is understandable, but legendary artifacts depend heavily on trade with low-ranking cultivators," commented a Lord next to the giant Lord Miller.
"With the cultivation world stirred up by Master Khaled, I doubt they will help us or provide equipment," observed Lord Malcon, as the good strategist he was.
"That makes sense, but where will we find reliable runic equipment?" pondered Lord Steven, frowning.
"That won't be a problem, I think I know what Lord Malcon has in mind, but prepare your pockets, my dears," said Lord Miller with a regretful expression.
Far away, in the border fief that Lord Malcon managed, the windows of a rustic wooden house shone in broad daylight. The pulse of blue light leaked out at a steady rhythm, causing the children playing near the Lord's private forest to point curiously and fearfully. After all, the resident of the little house was not very friendly and naturally bad-tempered.
"We're almost there... if the fons flow stabilizes, then we'll make history," a young voice exclaimed excitedly.
"Focus, Nathan. We can't fail now because of your premature excitement," a calmer, older voice countered.
The two individuals were leaning over a rectangular ebony table, full of inscriptions and symbols within circles, which connected through straight lines and semicircular lines. The inscriptions pulsed with blue light, alternating between a soft pulse and a strong pulse, enough to be noticed outside the house in broad daylight. In the center of the table was a silver tripod stand full of lines and inscriptions like the table, where the object of the two individuals' attention rested.
The energy pulses traveled from the table to the stand through the three supports, being reinforced after passing through the intricate paths of lines and circles of the stand and carried to the base where the bright object was, which pulsed at a constant rhythm with the table and accumulated energy.
"The Seal is accumulating energy in a stable way, I think we'll finally succeed, my boy," the older one declared excitedly, with eyes shining under a semi-transparent protective glasses.
"At my signal, increase the fons flow steadily to the limit."
"Yes, Rabi Abner!" ready, Nathan positioned his hands on two small buttons on the side of the table, eagerly awaiting the command that would determine once and for all whether his efforts were worth it.
"Wait... wait... Now!"
Firmly, Nathan simultaneously turned the two buttons, trying to maintain the same speed and consistency. This was immediately reflected in the increased pulsations of the table and the tripod stand. The air around began to buzz as the blue light increased from pulses to an increasingly intense and constant glow. An energy flow was established through the paths on the table and carried directly by the stand to the bright object, which caused an energy and light spike so great that neither the glasses nor the eyelids could do much to protect Rabi and his apprentice.
The table, unable to withstand the intensity of elemental energy passing through it, began to crack and shake. The stand cracked in several places, even melting in some parts. When the flow reached the maximum energy peak, the entire set exploded, throwing Nathan against the ceiling and Abner directly into the wooden beam above the table. The bang alarmed everyone outside and panicked them.
It was a series of disasters, the explosion completely destroyed the wooden house and gathered an angry crowd around the wreckage.
"This is the fifth time this month! But as if the explosions weren't enough, he finally destroyed his own house!" someone shouted in the crowd.
"Hahaha, the Lord will finally expel this useless blacksmith!" This was the speech and feeling of most people, who stood watching the rubble without the slightest desire to help the injured.
"Make way for the Lord's guard!" a cry broke out in the crowd, pushing everyone aside so that a group of armed knights could pass in front of a beautifully crafted gofer wood carriage. The six-legged black steeds intimidated any fool who didn't get out of the way fast enough.
As the carriage opened, a richly dressed middle-aged man, appearing older than he really was, stepped down in front of everyone. His fair skin contrasted with his dark eyes that stared at the crowd, silencing everyone before his scrutiny.
As kind as Lord Malcon was, he was never known for his meekness or leniency. Criticizing a Lord's decision was madness, and the blacksmith in question was Lord Malcon's direct guest, as was his entire family under his protection.
"Kneel before your Lord!" The guard chief's shout brought everyone out of their stupor, and quickly, row by row, the entire crowd knelt before the Lord.
Ignoring everyone, Lord Malcon fixed his attention on the rubble, with his forehead furrowed in concern. His plan depended on Rabi Abner to work, and of course, he needed to be in perfect health, which would be difficult with this latest accident.
"That blacksmith gives me too much trouble! I feel a terrible headache coming on, and frankly, I don't know if he's worth the trouble he causes, even being a Rabi in his art." Lord Malcon's will was to leave Rabi to his own devices, but with the crowd here, he had to intervene to show that everything was under his control.
"Carefully remove the rubble, and prepare the healing scrolls in case Rabi's injuries are deep! Quickly, we've already wasted too much time," commanded Lord Malcon, making his unit move as one to fulfill his orders.
However, before the soldiers could remove a single piece of wood, the rubble began to levitate, reaching thirty feet in height and revealing a shallow crater where the runic table was. In the crater, a light blue orb buzzed, causing some agony to the spectators.
Lord Malcon, with his mouth open, could hardly believe what he saw. Inside the orb of pure fons was a young man lying on the ground and an older man standing. His black hair matched his dark skin, and he was holding a rectangular, shiny object in his right hand.
A thread of energy came out of the object and fed the orb, which impressed everyone more every second. Mysterious inscriptions began to appear on the orb's surface, which shrank in size and disappeared, causing an uproar. The sight was still shocking because seeing the wreckage, levitating frozen in the air, was a sight in itself.
"Hurry up, you fools! Are you going to stand there all day? I'm seriously injured!" Before the kneeling crowd and the still stupefied guards, Rabi Abner began to shout and gesture as if he were about to die at any moment. The situation was comical, to say the least, as it was visible to everyone that apart from a few scratches, he was in perfect health.
"Enough with the show, Abner. I have very important work for you." Lord Malcon, still impressed with what he saw, declared, thus arousing the old shameless man's interest.
"I barely survived this incident, and my Lord already wants to put me to work? If I die of exhaustion, the world will lose one of its brightest minds!" Abner retorted, still acting, little concerned about his assistant, who was being helped by guards with legendary scrolls to speed up his recovery.
"I'll be clearer, we're talking about five million gold papers and two million gold coins."
The Lord's response dropped everyone's jaws. Gold paper was the currency in the mortal world and, along with silver and bronze coins, formed the basis of the economy. Ten bronze coins were worth one silver coin, and twenty silver coins were worth one gold coin. And ten gold coins were worth one gold paper.
The amount of money mentioned by Lord Malcon made everyone's hearts stop. It was an amount they could barely imagine.
"What are we waiting for?! Let's go quickly, duty calls!" With shining eyes, Rabi Abner jumped out of the crater and ran towards the carriage.
Everyone's gaze was one of strangeness, after all, they thought there were limits to shamelessness. Many blushed with shame at Rabi's posture, but Lord Malcon, recognizing the urgency of the situation, ordered the assistant to be placed in the carriage and continued the journey to the main mansion.