Floating Island - Triple S Talent-Chapter 508: The king’s worries

After those words were spoken, silence returned. Only the soft breeze flowed through the palace courtyard, rustling the leaves of distant trees. The old man standing behind him did not dare to speak. His face remained calm and expressionless, yet his gaze held unspoken concerns he would never voice.

"Akhola..."

The middle-aged man's voice was calm, yet it carried a weight that was impossible to ignore. He waited for a response from the old man, as if testing something.

"Yes, Master. Akhola is listening."

The old man bowed his head slightly, sharpening his ears to catch every word that would follow.

"Do you think the decision I made was the right one?"

His tone was flat, but there was something hidden within it—a doubt rarely seen in someone usually so full of conviction. He glanced at Akhola, waiting for an answer.

The old man shuddered. For a brief moment, the lines of wrinkles on his face deepened. His facial muscles tensed as he turned his thoughts, searching for the most appropriate response. He knew well that this man would not accept empty words without meaning.

After a moment of contemplation, Akhola finally spoke. "I believe the choice you made is the best, Master." His tone was firm, full of certainty.

Then, carefully, he added, "Facing the God Seed is certain death."

The middle-aged man nodded slightly, as if satisfied with the answer. His eyes returned to the distance, to the vast sky stretching over the kingdom. His gaze seemed to pierce the boundaries of dimensions.

"The God Seed, huh..." he murmured softly.

However, there was something different in his voice. It was not just a simple mutter. There was a complex mix of emotions within it—desire, anger, injustice—all blended into a single, deep sigh.

As his mind was consumed by countless thoughts, the middle-aged man suddenly raised his hand. His movement was swift and precise, as if catching something invisible.

And between his fingers, a scroll materialized out of thin air.

He gazed at the scroll with his glowing golden eyes. With a casual motion, he broke the seal and unrolled its contents. His eyes scanned each word inscribed upon it.

"The outer fortress..."

He read in a low voice, yet his words carried an overwhelming weight.

"Destroyed..."

The more he read, the heavier the atmosphere became. The once-clear sky suddenly darkened. Thick clouds gathered rapidly, obscuring the sunlight. The gentle breeze turned into a harsh gust, carrying an air of tension that enveloped the entire palace.

"Damn it... two people."

The middle-aged man clenched his fist, and the scroll vanished from his palm. His breath grew heavy. For a moment, he remained still before finally rising from his seat.

Akhola, standing behind him, remained silent. He held his breath, realizing that the situation had changed drastically. The middle-aged man gazed at the sky, his golden eyes flashing sharply, as if piercing through the fabric of the universe.

"Damn gods!"

His roar shook the air, echoing throughout the kingdom's skies. Lightning streaked wildly, tearing through the dark clouds looming over the palace. Thunder roared, resonating like an uncontainable wrath.

The middle-aged man waved his hand.

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In an instant, a massive portal opened before him. Within it, a terrifying scene unfolded—giant entities drifted within the void, destroying anything that stood in their path.

One of the creatures moved its hand, and the space around it instantly shattered. There was no sound, no explosion, only emptiness collapsing into nothingness.

The middle-aged man watched without blinking. His eyes shone even brighter, reflecting the raging fire of his unrelenting fury.

He observed the creature's movement with a sharp gaze, his golden eyes burning with unwavering determination. His lips curled slightly before he uttered a single word with a soft tone.

"Die."

From his forehead, a golden flame with a long tail ignited, blazing as if it had a will of its own. Without hesitation, the flame shot into the portal at an impossible speed, beyond what ordinary eyes could follow.

What followed was merely a golden streak slicing through the void, creating a massive rift that instantly consumed the giant entity within. There was no sound of explosion in this world, yet the tremor could be felt rippling through space and time within the portal. Everything in its path was obliterated in an instant.

The middle-aged man observed his attack's aftermath for a moment, ensuring that nothing remained. Then, with a single motion of his hand, he closed the portal. His breathing slowed slightly as he returned to his seat, sipping his tea with a long inhale.

The once-dark sky gradually cleared. The warm sunlight returned, gently illuminating the kingdom, as if soothing the land that had just felt his wrath.

"Delightful," he said calmly, as though the earlier events were nothing more than an illusion.

***

Elder's Isle - Lein's Residence

Atop the towering gate walls, Efan strolled leisurely, carefully measuring each step.

"Seventeen meters..."

"Nineteen meters..."

"Twenty meters."

After confirming the exact position, Efan pulled out a blueprint from his spatial ring. Meticulously, he double-checked the materials and requirements before finally approving the construction.

As soon as he made his decision, the structure began forming before his eyes. Its foundation was crafted from coarse black stone, radiating a faint green energy. Above it, a diamond-shaped crystal hovered motionless. It was the size of a basketball, yet remained colorless and transparent.

Efan watched the process with a satisfied smile. His eyes glanced at the progress bar that appeared before him.

"One day... That's fast," he muttered, feeling more excited.

Earlier, he had spent time visiting various top-tier shops and trade chambers across the Sanctus Lux Realm, searching for the perfect defensive weapon for Lein's residence. The choices were vast—high-powered weapons with long construction times or those with rapid build times but weaker destructive capabilities.

After much deliberation, he ultimately chose the Crystal Ice Tower. Its attack power ranked among the highest, while its construction duration was only one day. The downside was its low durability—the tower was easily destroyed.

But for Efan, that wasn't a problem. With the vast resources Lein had provided, he could build as many towers as he wanted.

"Alright, let's keep going," he said enthusiastically, ready to continue his measurements as before.

"One meter..." "Two meters..."

However, before he could reach three meters, a voice called from below.

"Master Efan, a guest is here!" a young woman shouted from the courtyard.

From atop the high walls, the girl's figure appeared as small as an ant in Efan's view. He squinted, trying to recognize who was calling him.

"Who is it, Zeylith?" he called back, loud enough to be heard.

"Grandfather Thurok!" Zeylith answered energetically.

Hearing that name, Efan immediately halted. He could not ignore a guest like Thurok—a senior sect elder. If he had come, it had to be for something important.

Without hesitation, Efan descended.

"I'm on my way."