Far away from the catastrophic collapse of the Bluemoon Kingdom, a secret meeting took place.
The room was located deep inside a luxurious, entirely hidden mansion. The mansion sat on the very edge of the Belmontia Empire. The room lacked windows. Thick velvet curtains covered the walls. A single crystal chandelier hung from the ceiling. It cast a very dim, warm light across a large mahogany table.
The Masked Prince sat in a plush leather chair at the head of the table.
The Masked Prince wore an incredibly expensive, tailored black suit. Silver embroidery lined his collar. He looked very sharp and very handsome. But his eyes were cold. His face held a permanent, bitter scowl. He held a delicate porcelain teacup in his hand. He took a slow, silent sip of hot tea. He placed the cup gently onto its saucer.
He waited patiently. He did not like waiting.
Suddenly, the dark shadows in the corner of the room began to swirl. The air turned freezing cold. The shadows stretched and twisted together. A tall figure stepped smoothly out of the darkness.
It was Javier.
Javier was a highly powerful, incredibly dangerous Black Magician. He wore a long, flowing dark cloak. He did not wear a pale mask like his foot soldiers. His face was entirely visible. He had pale skin, sharp cheekbones, and dark, slicked-back hair. His eyes burned with a faint, toxic purple light. He smiled a cruel, highly sinister smile.
"Good evening, Your Highness," Javier greeted smoothly. His voice sounded like dry leaves scraping against stone. He walked over to the mahogany table. He sat down in a chair across from the Prince.
"You are late, Javier," the Masked Prince stated flatly. He crossed his arms over his chest. He glared at the dark mage. "I despise tardiness. Did your little operation succeed?"
Javier chuckled softly. He leaned back in his chair. "You have absolutely nothing to worry about, my Prince. The operation was a flawless, absolute success. The Bluemoon Kingdom is completely destroyed. Their grandmasters are totally defeated. Their defenses are entirely shattered."
Javier reached into his dark cloak. He pulled out a small, lead-lined box. He placed the box on the table and opened the lid.
The Neitherworld Devil Seed sat inside the box. It pulsed with a sickly, glowing purple light. The dark, terrifying energy filled the quiet room.
The Masked Prince stared at the dark artifact. A massive, wicked smile finally broke across his face. His cold eyes lit up with pure, unfiltered excitement. He leaned forward and stared at the seed.
"It is beautiful," the Masked Prince whispered. He did not reach out to touch it. He knew it was highly dangerous. "You actually secured it. The legendary seed of madness."
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"I always deliver on my promises," Javier bragged proudly. He closed the lid of the box. The purple light vanished. "The seed is currently dormant. But it is very hungry. It needs to feed. Once it is fully awakened, its power will be completely unstoppable."
The Masked Prince nodded slowly. He picked up his teacup again. "Excellent. We are completely on schedule."
This meeting was highly illegal. It was pure treason. The Masked Prince had formed a treacherous alliance with the Black Magician. They were actively conspiring together in the shadows. They shared a single, massive goal.
They wanted to launch a devastating attack against the Belmontia Empire.
"My father is a complete fool," the Masked Prince spat angrily. He placed his teacup down with a loud clack. "He sits on his golden throne in the capital city. He forces his own children to fight in this ridiculous, pathetic Succession War. He treats us like wild dogs fighting for a bone. He thinks this tournament proves who is the strongest."
The Masked Prince stood up from his chair. He paced back and forth across the plush carpet. His face twisted with deep, undeniable rage. He harbored a deep-seated disdain for the current Belmontian system. He hated the Upper Council. He hated the rules.
"The entire system is utterly broken," the Masked Prince ranted loudly. "The nobles in the Inner City are arrogant snobs. The politicians are greedy cowards. The Empire does not need a winner of a silly tournament. The Empire needs to be completely burned to the ground. It needs a total cleanse. It needs to be rebuilt from the ashes."
Javier smiled his cruel smile. He enjoyed watching the Prince vent his anger. "And you will be the one to rebuild it, Your Highness. You will rule the new world."
"Yes," the Masked Prince agreed fiercely. He stopped pacing. He stared directly at the dark mage. "I will use this seed. I will unleash absolute chaos upon the capital city. While my foolish siblings are busy fighting each other in the arenas, we will strike the very heart of the Empire. The destruction will be massive."
Javier nodded slowly. "The plan is flawless. But we must be very careful. The Belmontia Empire has strong defenders. We must prepare the seed properly before we launch the assault."
"Take all the time you need, Javier," the Masked Prince commanded. He sat back down in his chair. He smoothed out his expensive suit jacket. "Prepare the dark magic. Gather your remaining forces. When the time is right, we will tear the capital city apart. The Emperor will watch his precious system crumble."
They shook hands across the table. It was a dark, treacherous agreement. The fate of the Belmontia Empire hung in the balance. The storm was officially gathering.
Meanwhile, miles away in the capital city, the atmosphere was completely different.
The 13th Unit estate was incredibly peaceful. The bright afternoon sun shined through the large glass windows of the living room. The room felt warm and very cozy.
Ken Eliot lay flat on his back on the large, comfortable sofa. He wore his baggy gray sweatpants and an oversized white t-shirt. He had a giant bowl of buttery popcorn resting perfectly on his stomach. He tossed a piece of popcorn high into the air. He opened his mouth and caught it flawlessly.
"I am an absolute master of snacks," Ken mumbled happily to himself. He chewed the popcorn loudly. Crunch. Crunch. Crunch. "I need to add this skill to my official resume. It is highly impressive."
Naomi walked into the living room. She carried a plate of warm, freshly baked chocolate chip cookies. She wore her simple dark training pants and a gray shirt. Her red hair was tied back in a neat ponytail. She did not yell at Ken. She did not tell him to sit up straight.
Naomi’s attitude toward him had completely changed over the last few weeks. She smiled a very warm, very fond smile. She walked over to the sofa and playfully nudged his knee.
"Move your legs, slacker," Naomi teased gently. "I brought you some cookies. But if you drop crumbs all over the sofa, I am going to make you sweep the floor."
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