Thorian believed that snatching the throne with Lysander in the picture wouldn't be a cakewalk.
He pondered how to keep Lysander at bay, and he needed someone trusted by the leader to execute his plan.
Desperation filled him as he ruminated his plan.
As he wracked his brain for potential allies, the memory of the day he became Elasander Stormwaden—the realm's protector— resurfaced.
A man had boldly declared that no one else was as worthy as Lord Lysander. Could this man be the key to his strategy?
"Seraphis," Thorian called for the man who had been by his side that fateful day. The man flushed in in a jiffy and knelt before him. Thorian asked, his eyes maniacally across the man, "On the day I claimed the Elasander Sigil at Heka, there was a man who insisted that no one could match Lysander's competence. Do you remember him?"
"Yes, I do, my lord. His name is Elion, and he is Immortal Lysander's right-hand man."
His mouth curled into a slight smile as he thought his hunch was correct. He then ordered Elion's presence, dismissing Seraphis.
Ten minutes later, Elion was taken to Thorian's study room.
The study room exuded an air of ancient wisdom, bathed in the soft glow of flickering candlelight that cast intricate shadows on the worn tapestries lining the walls.
The scent of aged parchment mingled with the faint aroma of sandalwood, creating an atmosphere that whispered of forgotten secrets.
In one corner, a meticulously organized collection of ancient tomes and scrolls stood as silent guardians of knowledge, while the faint echo of distant whispers seemed to linger within the room, hinting at the weight of the decisions made within its confines.
"Your honor," Elion greeted, bowing his head. He doubted what the summon was all about, knowing what Thorian was capable of. He said, "I'm curious as to why you summoned me."
Thorian placed his writing brush on the table and looked directly at Elion. "You've served Lysander with unwavering dedication and skill, yet your efforts have gone unrecognized. Don't you think something is off?" But Elion was undeterred.
"I'm prepared to offer you immense wealth and the guaranteed role of Heka sect leader if you're willing to work with me."
Elion remained unfazed by the generous offer. "I was once sold as a servant, but Lord Lysander never treated me as such. His kindness is all I seek."
Silence contained the room as Elion said that, and he said,
"Your honour, if there is nothing else you have to say, I am afraid I...."
Thorian remarked, "Being treated like family doesn't mean you are family. Do you know that?"
Elion maintained his composure, warding off Thorian's manipulative tactics. "What exactly do you want from me? I won't be swayed by manipulation."
Thorian smirked. "Must one be manipulated to realize their true worth? You should also have a claim to his wealth, but Lysander selfishly reserves it for his family. You ought to be the next Heka leader, but Lysander intends to make his daughter the leader and assign you the role of her protector, as you've done for him."
Elion wrestled with conflicting emotions, wary of Thorian's manipulation.
He felt frustrated but still didn't want to submit.
Thorian rose from his chair and stepped closer, observing Elion's reactions. "You should be the next sect leader, my friend. You should inherit his wealth after a lifetime of service."
Elion remained resolute, refusing to let Thorian's words sway his loyalty to the Chen family. "My mindset is unchangeable. No matter what you say, my devotion to my savior remains unwavering. I'd readily sacrifice my life for him if it came to that."
Thorian smirked gently. He was eager to know how long this young man could remain loyal to that savior of his.
With a bow, Elion signaled his departure, leaving Thorian's words behind as mere deceit.
Upon getting back to the Heka sect, Elion was greeted by the sight of Master Chen and Lysander. A genuine smile crossed his face, as if he'd found a family of his own.
He bowed.
"Please, rise," Master Chen welcomed him.
Elion inquired if Master Chen was leaving soon.
"I've been pestered about that all day. I'll return in due time," he replied.
"We'll eagerly await your return," Elion said with a respectful bow before Lysander's call broke the moment.
"I'll accompany him out now. Ensure Liora doesn't leave the sect; guard her well."
Simultaneously, Thorian's words echoed in Elion's mind, casting doubt on his place in Lysander's world. His mind churned with conflicting emotions, torn between loyalty to Lysander and the tempting promises Thorian dangled before him.
Before he knew it, Lysander and Master Chen had embarked on their walk. Elion shrugged off the thoughts, assuming the order held no significance.
As Elion recalled shared moments with Lysander, the unspoken bonds that tied them together emerged, revealing a history deeper than loyalty alone.
Meanwhile, across the realm, another set of events unfolded. As Caelum, accompanied by his two friends, left the Songwan sect, he noticed a peculiar wound on Merrick's palm. Concerned, he pressed it gently, prompting a sharp cry of pain from Merrick.
"How did you get this wound? It doesn't appear to be ordinary," Caelum inquired.
Memories flashed of the day he disposed off the dead body and tripped off a cliff. His qi energy healed his other parts, except his palm.
Merrick snapped, "Why is it any of your business?! It was my mistake to come to your sect in the first place!" before storming off.
Darian sensed that something was amiss with Merrick, and Caelum agreed, suspecting that Merrick had been acting strangely since their earlier encounter.
"Should we keep an eye on him?" Darian suggested.
Caelum shook his head. "We can't tail our friend like a shadow. Let's give him some time to find his bearings."
"Okay."
At Heka sect, Liora approached Arion with a plea for assistance in leaving the sect. She was desperate to step outside, even if only briefly.
After some reluctance, Arion accepted her request, and they stealthily made their way toward the entrance, avoiding the guards' notice. Liora's heart filled with joy, but their escape route unexpectedly crossed paths with Elion.
"Hey, you," Elion pointed at Arion, "aren't you supposed to be resting in your room?"
Liora rushed to Elion. "Heya, Elion, just this once. Let me go, and I will treat you well. Please, huh?"
Elion turned away, refusing her plea.
Then, with a warm smile, Liora made a daring offer. "I'll let you kiss me if you allow me to leave without informing father."
Arion glanced at her in surprise, and she signaled him to stay quiet. Elion was taken aback, his desire for her lips conflicting with his resolve.
With a gentle push, Liora grabbed Arion's hand and fled the sect. In that moment, it seemed to Elion that if he were to be rewarded for his years of dedication, the gift he truly desired was Liora herself.
Unbeknownst to him, his choices would send ripples through the political landscape, setting in motion events that would shape the fate of the realm