Julver emerged onto the surface with an unusual buoyancy in his step, his spirits lifted by the warmth of the sun casting its golden rays upon him. Yet, the intensity of its brilliance forced him to narrow his eyes against the searing sensation, a paradoxical mix of discomfort and contentment.
Drawing a deep breath, he savored the untainted air, devoid of the metallic tang of blood and the sickly sweet scent of decay. Despite being only 17, Julver had spent most of his life confined within the sterile confines of a laboratory under the watchful gaze of specialists. Surface excursions like this were a rarity for him, reserved primarily for the purpose of recruiting new subjects.
As he gazed upon the vibrant hues of green and blue that dominated the landscape, Julver found himself momentarily captivated, his mind momentarily liberated from the weight of his purpose.
Clad in somber black robes and concealing his visage behind a mask that obscured the unsightly seams of his creation, Julver's eyes, however, betrayed a gleaming smile that seemed to radiate warmth despite the mask's cold exterior.
"Sir, your presence was anticipated," murmured the attendants stationed near the gaping portal, their nervous shuffling betraying their uncertainty regarding the exact timing of such an esteemed guest's arrival.
"Yes, yes, lead the way," Julver replied in his typically unhurried manner, a facade that belied the underlying sense of detachment that surrounded him.
Though regarded as formidable among the gifted, Julver was far from immortal. The servants, reluctant to meet his gaze directly for fear of his formidable aura, bowed respectfully before setting off along the shores of the Oblivion Lake.
The rhythmic lapping of the waves and the gentle rustle of the grass stirred Julver's senses, yet he found himself unable to steal even a glance at the tranquil waters. An inexplicable urge tugged at him, beckoning him to plunge into the frigid depths and immerse himself in the rejuvenating embrace of mana.
His reverie was shattered by a surge of agony coursing through his mouth, ancient runes manifesting upon his swollen tongue, their faint glow illuminating his torment. Clenching his fists in silent anguish, Julver's brow furrowed as he resigned himself to the relentless onslaught of pain. His body, once a vessel for boundless potential, now repelled mana and other energies, a cruel reminder of the irreversible toll exacted by the ruthless experimentation that had forever robbed him of the chance for cultivation.
Squandering his talents in a futile spiral of self-pity, Julver stewed in the bitterness of his own perceived injustices, harboring a deep-seated hatred towards humanity that had long permeated his fragile bones. It was this festering resentment that often led him to turn a blind eye to the inhumane experiments conducted on defenseless children, sometimes even deriving twisted satisfaction from the agony of others.
The fractured state of his mind rendered him incapable of empathy or compassion for others.
---
As he approached the Head, Julver's gaze met Elder Gufu's, noting the sickly pallor and dark circles beneath the elder's eyes with a sense of detached amusement.
Grinning sardonically at the sight of his biological father, he greeted the Head with a mocking formality, "Greetings, esteemed Head. May prosperity and glory be bestowed upon the Great Families."
"Skip the pleasantries," the Head interjected brusquely, his facade of composure failing to conceal the genuine concern etched upon his features. "Tell me, what news do you bring from the research center? Have they made any progress towards finding a cure for the disease?"
"We are in the process of developing a treatment," Julver responded evenly, his tone betraying little emotion. "However, I do not yet have a finalized prescription or treatment method. I have come here to oversee the heir's condition to ensure it does not deteriorate further before the medicine is ready."
"Even a tentative treatment?" Elder Ah Lung's voice rose with frustration. "It has been two days already! The research center has dealt with diseases even rarer than this in a shorter span of time. It has been five days since the diagnosis!"
Confusion and anxiety permeated the atmosphere as the small gathering of elders, exclusively serving the Clan of Despair, grappled with the limitations of their abilities and the urgency of their predicament. They delved into ancient manuscripts and documents spanning millennia, desperate for clues that might lead to a solution.
"Energy imbalance is indeed a rare affliction, but its presence in our records is not new," the man persisted, maintaining his bowing posture. "We must exercise caution before initiating any treatment. We cannot afford to act recklessly."
The Head listened intently, his focus unwavering as he absorbed every word spoken.
"In order to mitigate the progression of the disease," Julver continued, his tone measured, "it would be prudent to keep the heir isolated from all forms of energy, including the mana emanating from the Oblivion Lake."
His suggestion sent a ripple of unease through the already nervous assembly of elders.
"What if the absence of dark energy adversely affects the heir's well-being?" another elder protested, challenging the expert's recommendation. "It's widely known that mana serves as a protective barrier for the gifted. Depriving them of access to the Oblivion Lake could have dire consequences."
"These are not my words, but those of Mr. Helmuth," Julver clarified, deflecting any further moralizing from the elders and redirecting their attention towards the Head.
Observing the Head's impassive reaction, the elders realized the gravity of the situation. It was apparent that isolating the heir was indeed a necessity.
"Summon the servants immediately," the Head commanded, turning to Elder Gufu. "We must take every measure to prevent any further deterioration of the heir's health."
As expected, the authority of Helmuth's words held considerable sway, even over the Head of a Great Family. Julver's gaze lowered slightly, his emotions masked behind a facade of neutrality.
"In addition," the Head continued, his voice carrying an air of finality, "prepare accommodations for the researcher to facilitate his observations of the heir without impediment."
As he issued his directives, Asher felt a subtle sense of relief wash over him. Perhaps it was an overreliance on the researchers, a predisposition shared by many Heads of Great Families. Having stood in Helmuth's shadow for centuries, it was only natural for the elders to regard him with a reverence akin to that reserved for the divine or even the Owner of the Oblivion Lake.