Chapter 1952: A Really Bad Situation
Chapter 1952: A Really Bad Situation
"How many casualties and damage?"
Davina asked one of the town leaders who oversees the entire town within the Cavity, a middle-aged man with a big belly and a long grey beard—Noor. His slanted eyes narrowed even further as he stared at this woman before him whom he did not recognize.
"Forgive me," Noor smiled politely. "But who are you?"
"She’s a representative of the High Lord," A soldier from the Red Skull Elite Force answered for Davina.
And what he said changed Noor’s behaviour instantly.
"Really bad," Noor let out a long sigh, knowing that things would be really unstable right now. Nothing good would come from this. "As of an hour ago, the reports stated that there are at least three hundred Pale Defenders dead, and fifty Divine Sources tampered."
"Tampered?" Davina frowned. "What do you mean tampered? Do you mean destroyed?"
"No—that’s not it. Whoever attacked the Cavity certainly knew the Divine Sources intimately," Noor’s eyes stared into the horizon—recalling what he had read from the reports. "Several nexuses underneath the Divine Source’s core were severed, effectively cutting its connection to the realm."
Davina gestured for him to continue explaining.
She wasn’t well-versed in this.
"It means the fifty Divine Sources would not produce any Baby-blue Periwinkles until the nexuses were fixed."
"And how long would it take to fix them?"
"About a week for each Divine Source, so that’ll be roughly a year of repair. If the High Lord authorized more manpower, then it might be done in six months."
Davina’s expression turned grim when she received the news; her nose wrinkled and forehead creased into a frown. Six months’ worth of repair is overkill. Considering the evaluation is days away, this seemed like going overboard.
But then again, the enemy High Lord hated High Lord Rashal.
And this would most certainly damage High Lord Rashal’s reputation as being adequate in governance.
It was a devastating blow.
"No... I can’t believe this," the soldier muttered under his shaky breath. He couldn’t believe that things turned out this way. It was especially hard for him as this was their second consecutive loss against the forces of High Lord Ursa. "How can we explain this to the High Lord?"
"Manvac is dead," Davina said firmly. "That’ll be the first thing out of our mouths."
Even though they were beaten in the bigger picture, the enemy forces still sacrificed a strong soldier.
Someone that couldn’t be replaced easily.
"But he’s not a High Millinar anymore..." the soldier clenched his fists until his knuckles turned white.
"What?" Davina snapped towards him. "What do you mean he’s not a High Millinar?"
"About a month or two ago, I don’t quite remember, he stepped down from the High Millinar position. It was news that spread everywhere fast, and people were surprised to learn that Manvac refuted a direct order from his High Lord. And rumour stated the step down was a mess."
"So, they were already planning to do this..."
Davina massaged her throbbing forehead.
Seems like this ultimate defeat was a calculated one; prepared at least more than a month ago.
"If that’s the case, how come nobody thought Manvac leading this attack on the Grey Realm was odd?"
"Because everyone knew Manvac hated High Millinar Alexander—as he could never quite achieve the necessary strength to beat Sir Alexander fair and square. Probably hated him more than he hated High Lord Ursa."
It wasn’t the answer that Davina was expecting, but that explains everything.
Based on what she learned from this soldier, she was positive that High Lord Ursa had set up everything in order to make this invasion. He made Manvac step down from the High Millinar position in order to avoid blame after the attack was made.
And the reason for why Manvac stepped down was simply optics.
A reason for the public to believe in.
High Lord Ursa hadn’t fabricated Manvac’s insubordination as a ploy against High Lord Rashal’s side; they are too sharp to swallow such an obvious lie. But he had chosen Manvac to lead the attack for the very reason of lowering their guard.
Every single person knew that Manvac would never duck an opportunity to clash with Alexander.
And that lowered their guard enough for High Lord Ursa to plant the helper Demigod in the Cavity.
Normally, a Cluster Custodian would be alerted by an incident like this.
Rex specifically said that to her as he assumed attacking the Cavity should be off-limits, so for the enemy to dare do such a thing meant they also have the permission of the Cluster Custodians, or even have the permission from the Overseer of Realms himself.
He thought this because he knew that High Lord Ursa has been a High Lord longer.
And he’s also older than High Lord Rashal.
Ever since he travelled together with Davina and Lilliana, he learned that connections are important for growth, and people as strong as High Lord Ursa would most certainly have incredible connections. One that he could utilize to gain an advantage against High Lord Rashal.
After all, High Lord Rashal is new to the playing field.
Like the previous High Lords, he is corrupt, but his corruption hadn’t touched High Lord Ursa’s level.
It was an advantage that was hard to detect.
Anticipating what was unknown is simply impossible to do.
’But still... Rex thinks highly of High Lord Rashal. Even the emperor and the Sky People did not get that kind of treatment for him,’ Davina’s forehead creased further in contemplation. ’I doubt he wouldn’t at least be suspicious that Manvac was leading the attack.
’Since High Lord Ursa bothered to make a public reason, then High Lord Rashal should know—that he was going to use Manvac for something. Did he get overconfident by his own intelligence, thinking that Manvac was only used to invade the Grey Realm? It might be the case, but I somehow doubt it.’
Roar—!
Just then, a resounding roar reverberated through the sky.
Davina lifted her gaze and saw a massive obsidian dragon emerging from a portal that was widening by the second. Its scales drank the light as dawn approached—and its wings stirred the air like a storm. But there was no roar from it.
Only a growl.
Almost like its dominance was stripped away; perhaps it could feel the defeat in the air.
Mounted atop it was a figure she recognized instantly.
Alexander’s eyes found her and Noor below, and without hesitation, he banked the dragon sharply and hurled himself from its back, crashing onto the ground a few dozen feet away in a tremor of dust—and stone.
He straightened his back and immediately fixated on Noor with a peculiar, demanding gaze.
But even with the shield of domination masking his face, one could see the nervousness behind his eyes.
"It’s bad, Sir Alexander..." Noor said without waiting for the question to come.
Almost instantly, Alexander grimaced. He turned away—and chuckled inwardly, still in denial that this happened. That he won the battle but lost the war against Manvac. He abandoned his post and requested High Lord Rashal to handle this situation, believing that he could handle it.
Other High Millinars need not worry about the Grey Realm; he and his squadron could handle it.
And that was a mistake, as he spectacularly failed.
"Don’t dwell on it," Davina opened her mouth. "Focus on finding the solution to this mess. There’s still time before High Lord Rashal hears about this, and we have to have a solution by the time he asks for us later."
"Solution?" Alexander looked over his shoulder sharply. "Do you have any idea what this disaster would do to High Lord Rashal?" He asked with clear indignation, and then approached with big strides. "As a matter of fact, who do you think you are for advising me?’
"I am not your enemy." Davina raised her hand and pressed it against Alexander’s chest, stopping him. "Don’t add more problems to your plate by making me an enemy. I know how you’re feeling, but don’t be swayed by it. No matter how dire, there’s always a way."
She learned it from her mother.
A true noble would do anything to deal with the problem at hand without breaking.
Until death, any problem can be handled.
Alexander snorted and turned away, placing both hands on his waist. "Where’s Sir Rex?"
"He had been sweeping the entire Cavity, searching for any clues of the perpetrator behind this mess. I don’t know what he was thinking, but you should help him," Davina pulled back strands of hair behind her ear. "Don’t waste time sulking and find a solution with him."
Despite the blatant mockery, Alexander didn’t answer.
He simply launched himself to the horizon to meet up with Rex and talked about the situation.
...
Far away from the Cavity, a meeting was going on.
The meeting room drifted in a pocket of folded space; its walls were planes of shifting light that cycled right between deep navy and pale silver. Beyond them, distant nebulae coiled in lazy spirals. At the center, a single dark wood table with cool glass above it reflected fifty faces.
Each one was sharp, refined, and quietly impatient.
All of them are architects of Gamma Cluster’s economy.
Shipping magnates, mining houses, textile empires. Men and women whose business empires spanned sectors vital to Larta City and beyond. For months, their ledges had been bleeding. High Lord Ursa of the Zeta Cluster had imposed bloated tariffs on a critical component produced within his jurisdiction.
One that empowered most machines that they really needed.
And the stranglehold had spread through their supply chains like a sickness.
Everyone in the room knew that High Lord Ursa did this because of High Lord Rashal.
Due to that vendetta, their businesses suffered.
Complaints had been filed. Dozens of them. And now, against all expectations, High Lord Rashal sat at the head of the table. Most of them thought a delegate would be sent to address their concerns, but no, High Lord Rashal came personally.
His evaluation was imminent—everyone knew the timing could not be worse.
But to their pleasant surprise, he came in person.
"High Lord," A silver-haired middle-aged man leaned forward, his voice measured but edged. "I’m sure I can represent us all to say that your presence is appreciated, but how would you handle this? The bad tariffs are strangling us. We can’t keep this up for long."
High Lord Rashal met his gaze.
And after a brief pause, he spoke, "Larta City will subsidize the tariffs. Not all of them, but a significant portion. Enough to ease the pressure on your operations—while I resolve the situation with the old man directly. What I ask in return is patience. Will that suffice?"
He didn’t plead. Didn’t negotiate. He simply stated, and the weight of his certainty settled over the table.
For him to say such strong words meant he wasn’t struggling to survive the evaluation.
Seems like he had everything under control.
Just that he needed more time before things turned around for the Gamma Cluster.
Murmurs rippled, then stilled.
"We can work with that."
"I always believe in your potential, High Lord. I’m sure you can get past this."
"Any great man needs a great calamity to test him, and this is simply your turn to sail through it."
Assurance spread through the room like warmth from a fire. High Lord Rashal came in person and even presented this solution as a calculated move. It was a display of strength. For all the whispers about his evaluation, for all the political knives aimed at his back, he had shown the steadiness of an absolute leader who still commanded the board.
And the tension that had wound tight through months of certainty began, at last, to loosen.
Certainty is a powerful thing.
But as High Lord Rashal sucked in the room’s warmth, his secretary approached.
He materialized at his elbow—a slight figure in a neat suit and tie; his lips barely moved as he whispered.
Everyone watched.
High Lord Rashal’s expression didn’t change. Not even a twitch. But something behind his eyes shifted.
He rose smoothly, unhurried, yet the motion silenced the table.
"Forgive me," He said—his voice still calm and collected. "An urgent matter requires my attention. My people will remain to finalize the terms. I trust this will suffice."