Chapter 49: Demonic sword

The remnants of the once-great city of Seraphine smoldered beneath the cold gaze of Lucius. Ash and smoke painted a sorrowful picture of what used to be the empire's beating heart. Yet, to Lucius, the city and its inhabitants were just pawns in his intricate game.

General Will, his uniform now a tattered relic, approached through the haze. Blood streaked his face from wounds earned in the confrontation. With utmost respect, he greeted, "Your Imperial Majesty, I've never seen such power as those Sages displayed."

Lucius met his gaze, a glint of cruelty flashing momentarily. "Inconsequential. Just a minor disruption. Now, do as commanded. Relocate the survivors to the next stronghold. And bring me the body of Gottfried."

Without hesitation, General Will bowed. "Your wish is my command," he replied, signaling to a group of soldiers nearby to begin their gruesome task.

Octavia's mocking laughter cut through the air. With malicious glee, she approached the emperor. "Even gods bleed, it seems," she sneered, taking pleasure in Lucius's rare moment of vulnerability.

But Lucius, not one to be easily ruffled, retorted coolly, "Do not mistake a moment's distraction for weakness." Without another word, he vanished, reappearing in the nearby city of Rhinopolis.

In the city's heart, Lucius swiftly summoned the next individual worthy of the Prime Minister's title. A tall man, with sharp features and a calculating demeanor, knelt before him. His name was Verus, a cunning strategist.

"You will serve as the new Prime Minister," Lucius announced, transferring essential memories and directives into Verus's mind. The newly appointed Prime Minister shuddered under the overwhelming influx of information but held his composure. "Your first task is to restore the empire's foundations. Our armies, our resources, our menpower —ensure that all remain unshaken."

Verus, grasping the gravity of his new role, nodded. "Your directives will be executed with precision, Emperor."

Back in his secluded chamber, a grotesque display awaited. The body of Gottfried, the fallen Sage, lay prone. Lucius began his dark ritual, extracting flesh from bone with surgical precision. Each slice echoed with a chilling resonance, filling the room with a symphony of carnage.

The bones, once cleansed, were engulfed in the sacrilegious fires of primordial chaos. The melting process, accentuated with chilling screams from trapped souls, melded them into a single, fluid form. Carefully, Lucius inscribed forbidden runes onto the forming blade, infusing it with immense power. The dark blade, now complete, emitted a terrifying aura—a weapon of pure dread.

Outside, the relentless clamor of war persisted. The Confederacy, with its numbers, appeared daunting, but they faced the indomitable spirit of the Eternal Empire—represented by the fierce red Phoenix on its black flag.

When Lucius emerged, sword in hand, General Will approached, awe evident in his eyes. "The frontlines have been fortified, my lord. Our men stand ready."

Lucius, with his weapon reflecting a menacing gleam, declared, "The Confederacy remains unaware of our city's fall. But when they hear of their Sage's demise beneath its walls, they will come to know true fear."

Will, buoyed by Lucius's words, nodded in agreement. "We've withstood our trials, and the Eternal Empire will emerge stronger. For now, we hold steady."

However, Lucius appeared contemplative, already plotting his next move.