Rise Of The Infinite Sovereign

212 Proceedings

Days flashed by while Ezra polished his skills, sparring with his vassals on most days.

All the gifts Gwendolyn gave him, he gave to his vassals after having Bard sift through them.

They grew as one, and with Ezra's help, hit Advanced-rank by the fifth month.

That wasn't enough to satisfy them, it wasn't even close.

Witnessing the enormous gap between them and Ezra, their aim was to create aura while in Advanced-rank.

Ezra didn't tell them otherwise, as the stronger they got, the better.

Instead, his focus laid on perfecting the Infinite Forms.

To start with, he changed much through the technique in five months, letting it retain only a hundred moves - in each sequence!

Meaning, the sword sequence had a hundred movements, as did the fist, scythe, staff, and dagger.

In total, that was five hundred movements!

Now, he was blending the sequences into one, creating the real Infinite Forms.

—-------------------

Meanwhile, war stalled completely.

People were tired, and too many resources had been wasted.

The rewards were bountiful, but such manipulations could only do so much.

Enough blood had been shed.

Now, Nitonians fought a defensive battle, aiming to keep the occupied territory till the war was called off.

But a few groups stood out, those still going strong.

At the top of those was the Black Jaws regiment as they'd come to be called.

They were razing down places left and right, building an astronomical amount of contribution points by taking out Master-ranks and the likes.

As a consequence, the rankings thought to be set in stone were shaken up, which forced others into action.

Some attacked Black Jaws, only to fail of course and have their contribution points added to that of Black Jaws. Others sought to copy them, most of which didn't live to tell the tale.

The guild was also going strong, having completed the skyscraper and produced fourteen more batches of Experts thanks to the combined efforts of owning beast regions, cultivating with mana stones and giving them the best elixirs.

The port built in Qunchester was completed, becoming the biggest in Niton.

Now it was being fitted with ships.

Multiple other projects went along in the other slums.

As they racked up achievements, trouble followed close by.

Having been given land certificates, guilds and clans were buying up lands as well.

Of course, with Bolton tripling the land prices, they couldn't buy as much as they wanted.

It was the commoners that felt the brunt of the price hike the most.

Land appreciating meant house costs appreciating, which meant increased rent and so forth, which led to the price of every commodity increasing as well.

Everything except their wages!

The fluctuating prices of goods were crazy, flying sky-high.

Those well to do lived frugally, while those below starved.

Crime rates increased exponentially and so did the death toll.

—----------------------

Meanwhile, the Emperor was going strong, expunging the poison.

If the next few years elapsed with him still in seclusion, others would guess that something had happened. And he couldn't allow that to happen.

The people were already raising discontent on the ongoing war. Whether he would succeed or fail though, was for time to tell.

If the current situation were to be maintained, the Emperor would not have much of an Empire to rule over.

—-----------------------

Elsewhere…

*Bam*

Gaga slammed the table, looking at the visage conjured by an artifact akin to a locket, but with the size of a fist.

"We had a deal!" Gaga hollered.

"Yes, we did" a cold voice replied, a smile on his face.

Gaga popped a vein.

"My people are being massacred, yet I do not see the aid I was promised"

"Oh sir. You must calm down-"

"Answer me-"

The cold voice became strict.

"It would wise to remember that you're the one in need"

Gaga clenched his fist, before slowly releasing it.

He'd forfeited his pride the day he accepted their help.

"Good" the other implored.

"No worries, we will take care of Niton when the time is right"

"Take care of Niton? I asked you to help my people!"

The man shook his head ever so slowly.

"Is that so? I don't remember it as such. Yes yes, you told us to give you a successor and to not let your pitiful kingdom die out"

"You must understand that such things are big tasks. They cannot be rushed"

Gaga was fuming. They were twisting his words.

But what could he do, he'd already started on this path, so he had to see it through.

"So, what do you plan to do?" he changed the question.

The man smiled.

"Now, that is a good question…that I would rather not answer. Instead, I'll let you witness it. After all, it shouldn't be long now"

"Instead, shall we not talk about your successor? I feel that is the most urgent matter"

"What should I do"

"You? Nothing. Simply send him to us, and we'll take care of the rest"

"I see. I will do so" Gaga huffed.

Like such, the visage vanishes and the artifact clasped shut.

—-----------------------

Six months passed after this day, entering the year 1712.

For one, Ezra was now twelve.

Also, it would be the seventh year since the start of the war.

Lastly…

'It's done'

The Emperor huffed with pride while looking at the pool of purple liquid on the floor.

At the same time…

*Crack*

The mana stone in his hand cracked into pieces.

"What a waste" he muttered, but desperate times called for desperate measures.

It wasn't all bad though. While expunging the poison, he'd gained a resistance to it, and then, his mana pool had also widened.

He stood for the first time in a long time, his bones snapping as he did.

Having grown a short white beard, he cleaned it up, and then had the royal healer take the poison into a vial to study it.

For one, they would create an antidote and then see if they could recreate it. The Emperor smiled at such thoughts.

"Ha…" he exhaled, now in his polished battle armor.

Excitement budded in his chest as he would be using his power on the war for the first time in a long time.

Concentrating, his body lit up with sparks as did his beard.

With a steady stomp, he flew out of Avilla's palace, calling the attention of all to his visage.

Grandmasters whipped their heads to the abrupt presence of another.

He spoke, his voice booming.

"LET IT BE KNOWN. THE WAR HAS GONE ON LONG ENOUGH. IT HAS COME TO AN END"

Without delay, he flew in the opposite direction.

Niton was immediately notified of the Emperor's return.

History was made as the Great war ended in the sixth month of the year 1712.

With the Emperor's command, forces began to withdraw, having sucked away all they got their hands on.

Avilla had been claimed and they had extended their borders.

External powers could choose to continue the war of course, but they needed a break to recuperate.

The war left everyone with more losses than gains, and the subsequent periods would be turbulent as the people would have to adjust to the tides of change, lest they get wiped out.

The Emperor got back to the castle in a few hours, but it would take others a few days.

"Welcome Sire" Bolton bowed.

Two days ago, the Emperor notified Bolton of his arrival.

As such, Bolton effectively rendered land certificates useless by citing them as invalid, thus ceasing any ongoing land sales.

Subsequently, he dropped the land prices back to their normal amounts.

The Emperor nodded, looking around.

"I see I left things in capable hands"

Walking on, he arrived at not the throne room, but the dining hall.

Thereafter, the Empresses arrive, each giving curtsy bows before taking a seat.

Food was served and, while the Emperor ate, the Empresses brought him to speed.

"Haha"

He smiled.