After the council ended, Sigmund did not leave the throne hall immediately.
The Empire always respected the strong.
He had just decisively defeated Mofrey in a mental clash; His Majesty had deliberately glossed over his faults during the meeting to preserve his face. This was the respect he deserved.
But that didn’t mean the catastrophic losses from command failure and dragging down subsequent strategy would be brushed aside.
After all, even the prince who failed against the uncontrollable “Wrath” had received some punishment. Sigmund’s case was far worse.
Yet Sigmund had come prepared.
In the shadows beneath the stone steps, Sigmund knelt on one knee, hands holding aloft a platinum vessel carved with intricate runes.
Before the Emperor could speak, he said first, “Your Majesty, please allow me to present the ‘Twilight Kiss.’”
“Twilight Kiss…” Mortis leaned on the throne, gesturing for an attendant to take the vessel and open it. Inside was merely ordinary-looking blood.
“This is specially selected and nurtured half-elf heart-blood,” Sigmund maintained a humble posture. “Every drop condenses ultimate flavor.”
Mortis looked at the crimson liquid without much expression.
He knew Sigmund was trying to please him to reduce punishment, but just one jar of blood…
For blood-clan, different races’ blood might taste slightly different, but ultimately it was about the power within.
The stronger the source, the more powerful the blood.
Cultivating blood had been tried before; the result was immense effort and time for a negligible taste improvement. Hardly worth anticipating.
And naming it was presumptuously named “Twilight”…
Looking at the jar, Mortis instead recalled that human Sword Saint.
The one who left a wound on his neck that still hadn’t healed, needing blood armor to conceal; a true powerhouse.
His blood would have been brimming with power, perfect for either direct consumption or [Blood Manipulation]. Unfortunately, back then he was focused on the Demon King’s unsealing and couldn’t be bothered with the corpse. What a waste.
Glancing at the still-kneeling Sigmund, though not expectant, Mortis would give him face.
His right ring finger’s ring flashed several times. Subtle mana fluctuations enveloped the vessel; no poison detected.
Only then did Mortis take a light sip.
Below the steps, Sigmund kept his head bowed, only seeing the hem of His Majesty’s black robe.
Suddenly, the feet in gold-trimmed black boots tensed slightly.
Though fleeting, Sigmund caught the minute change.
It worked!
Clear swallowing sounds came from the throne, followed by a second sip, a third…
Mortis was still the Emperor; his self-control was extraordinary.
After three sips, he set the jar down; half remained.
“Sigmund,” the Emperor tried to keep his voice calm. “You should understand that today’s leniency in council does not mean the Empire will forget your mistakes.”
“Your subject understands,” Sigmund replied with bowed head.
“However, your initial judgment wasn’t wrong. Dragonroar Valley was merely a loss due to bad intelligence…” Mortis tapped the throne armrest lightly. “Then surrender administrative rights to two eastern mines and use twenty percent of your taxes for the next three years to compensate Velariss’s losses.”
This punishment was far lighter than expected.
Sigmund rejoiced inwardly but kept a submissive expression. “As Your Majesty commands.”
After a brief silence, Mortis asked casually, “This ‘Twilight Kiss’… must have taken considerable time to cultivate, yes?”
“Indeed, it required meticulous care. These special pure half-elves were fed only [Delicious] fruits; better than most nobles eat; plus special rituals and secret medicines…”
In his mind, Lin Jun watched little Sigmund bullshitting. How would he know how this blood was made?
Pure half-elves? He had plenty of hairy-legged, barrel-chested brutes among D-class personnel.
Little Sigmund… has salesman potential!
After a tale of nonexistent painstaking cultivation, Sigmund finally said what the Emperor most wanted to hear. “If Your Majesty enjoys it, your subject can offer one jar monthly.”
“Then so be it,” Mortis nodded satisfied, adding finally, “With the war paused, it’s time to retrieve the holy codex. I don’t trust Elinore alone; you assist her.”
“Yes!”
After Sigmund left, Mortis rubbed his brow, pondering his arrangements.
The demons always had rough positioning methods for the holy codex. Previously it had fallen into human dungeon territory, making retrieval impossible.
Latest positioning showed it in the north; perhaps related to the abnormal cold there.
Time to reclaim the codex. Letting it remain lost was a hidden danger.
When the seal broke, their first suspect had been the codex.
But after positioning, that possibility was ruled out.
Still a mystery: who, and how, had broken through that barrier.
There was a traitor.
To Mortis, this was obvious.
With the Demon King escaped, the Hero still growing, and an internal traitor unidentified…
Internal and external troubles exhausted even the ruler of the continent’s mightiest empire.
Unconsciously, he raised the golden vessel and took another light sip.
*Gulp—*
[Delicious LV6]
A never-before-tasted exquisite flavor bloomed on his tongue. In that instant, days of worries seemed to melt away with this mouthful of delicacy.
Unfortunately, beautiful moments were always brief.
When he came to, the vessel was empty.
He knew Sigmund must have kept some, but quantity was surely limited.
Such a treasure was naturally hard to obtain. As Emperor, he wouldn’t stoop to coveting a subject’s stash for a taste.
“One month…”
The low murmur echoed softly in the empty hall.
…
Meanwhile, on the post road returning to High Fort, Sigmund was drinking heartily.
*Glug glug—*
Unlike the ornate vessel offered to the Emperor, his was a common glass jar; contents slightly different: [Delicious LV10].
He had prepared two large bags of such blood jars as travel rations.
Having narrowly escaped disaster, Sigmund indulged himself, downing several jars in a row. The sweet blood slid down his throat, bringing unprecedented satisfaction.
“By the way, the old guy wants you to find some holy codex. What’re you going to do?” Lin Jun asked.
Sigmund wiped blood from his lips, long used to his roommate’s irreverent tone.
“Just assisting that idiot Elinore on a mission. Even if it fails, she’ll be punished first.” He gently swirled the half-full glass jar, watching the crimson liquid ripple. “Compared to that, His Majesty’s recent movements of Blood Guards and shadow agents are more worth watching. My instincts tell me something big is hidden there.”
Lin Jun smacked his lips.
Little Sigmund… are you being a bit disloyal?
I like it!
(End of Chapter)
