[Thank you so much for your patience! I apologize for the long wait — exams are coming up in a few months, which is slowing down the pace a bit. But rest assured, once they're over, chapters will be coming much faster!]

***

"Why is the laboratory where Her Majesty resides glowing like that?!"

Harry, who had volunteered for the night watch, widened his eyes in shock. A strange light was seeping through the window of one of the palace rooms. His heart pounded.

Lucian... he brought a mage with him. Could it be...?

His body moved before his mind could even catch up. As if driven by pure instinct, he sprinted forward with the full might of a level 6 swordsman at his peak.

And he wasn't the only one. Every staff member still on duty that night was gripped by the same sense of alarm. When they saw the unnatural light pouring from one of the rooms, their startled cries echoed down the hallways, rousing the others. Within moments, the palace was thrown into unprecedented turmoil.

---

"Dear God…"

Azrael Itharion, a level 9 Archmage, proud citizen of Grand Empire Number Five, and distinguished member of the Great Mage Organization, stood frozen—mouth agape, like a child witnessing a miracle. Often called a walking encyclopedia for his vast knowledge amassed in pursuit of elemental mastery, he was not easily shaken.

Yet now, the more he tried to comprehend, the more emotion overtook him.

"It's… it's… my God…" he breathed, unable to tear his eyes away from the source of light flooding the entire room.

"Light magic?" Julie whispered, stunned, as though speaking only to herself.

Even Azrael was shaken. If someone of his experience could be rendered speechless... what of his disciples?

He merely shook his head, as if trying to reject the obvious, yet said nothing.

Marc, meanwhile, turned the crank almost mechanically. He too was spellbound by the scene; even the pain in his arms couldn't pull him from it. Finally, just as awestruck as Julie, he spoke:

"Can you feel... even a hint of divine magic? Or any kind of magic in that thing?"

They exchanged a glance and, in shared silence, nodded.

Light magic... A sacred art, wielded only by the holiest members of the clergy. And even among them, few could truly master it. The theory didn't hold — there was no trace of mana in this phenomenon, no identifiable magical flow.

Azrael furrowed his brows, a sudden thought flashing through his mind:

Could it be... that he used science to create this?

Science did exist in this world — but it was the tool of the weak, the refuge of failures incapable of wielding magic. Scorned by the upper classes, it had never been taken seriously by those in power.

And yet... even if the idea hadn't originated from Lucian himself, the fact that he could understand it, adapt it — and above all, bring it to life...

Who the hell is this kid?

If this thing could be mass-produced... No, the cost would surely be astronomical. Rare materials, like luminous stone, made such a creation difficult to replicate on a large scale.

But still... this was a revolution.

Suddenly — Brack!

The door burst open. Harry, captain of the imperial guard, stormed into the room, sword in hand, his eyes blazing with urgency.

"Nobody move!" he barked.

But he already knew — in front of the man standing here, his words carried no weight. Instinctively, his gaze fell to Lucian, sprawled across the floor, surrounded by scattered materials in a mess that looked almost intentional. Almost… artistic.

His expression hardened — a mix of anger, confusion... and helplessness.

Yet no one paid him any mind. To those present, he was merely a guard from the Last Empire. A pawn. A non-entity.

They're ignoring me?! Harry seethed, wounded to his core. His aura began to rise, flaring hot and fierce, betraying his frustration. Other guards, drawn by the commotion, came rushing toward the lab.

But amid the growing chaos, a man entered.

He walked with an almost unreal grace, untouched by the turmoil around him. His steps carried him through the disordered laboratory — filled with wood, wires, sketches... a symphony of chaos.

He stopped, calm and composed.

"Azrael. What's going on here?"

At last, the archmage tore his eyes from the glowing source. His gaze shifted toward the entrance, now blocked by Chris and the imperial guards.

Guards of the Last Empire might have seemed insignificant before a level 9 archmage... but Chris was no ordinary man. He was an enigma. An anomaly.

And for the first time in a very long while, Azrael had no idea what to say.

Sigh.

"Emperor Lucian collapsed after building... this."

Azrael pointed at the still-running device, which Marc continued to operate. The strange object held everyone's gaze, shrouded in an almost sacred mystery.

In every eye, the same unspoken question lingered:

"What is it?"

Marc, his expression tinged with pride, answered:

"It's Lucian's invention. A way to light the night, like chandeliers, but..."

"...hundreds of times stronger than mere chandeliers," Ruben finished, his voice low and solemn.

"It's a revolution!" Julie exclaimed, her eyes glowing with wonder.

— Huh?! — What do you mean?! — He said Lucian… the Emperor made that?!

Whispers swelled at the laboratory's entrance as more and more attendants crowded in, drawn by the commotion.

At the front, Harry stood beside Chris, wearing a nervous smile as he tried to maintain his composure.

"But... Lucian doesn't have any sacred magic..." he murmured.

Like many here, he still believed what they were seeing was a divine miracle.

"It's not magic," Chris said then — firm, yet detached.

All eyes turned toward him.

The vice-captain, cautious, dared to ask:

"What… do you mean?"

Chris didn't look away.

"There's no trace of mana in this device. None."

Azrael, still unsettled, added with a wry smile:

"That's right. Your mad Emperor just created magic… without using magic.

A surprise, really. I never imagined this empire had reached such a level of technology."

A heavy silence fell over the room.

Beneath his words, the political weight was clear:

This empire — long dismissed and underestimated — would now be watched very, very closely.

Because Azrael, awestruck or not, was still a citizen of the Fifth Empire.

And in their view of the world, those born beneath them were meant to stay... obedient.

Harry, lost in thought, struggled to believe it.

Lucian? That same Lucian?

He still remembered how the boy had acted just three months prior — immature, insolent, nearly unfit for the crown. And now… he had done this?

A soft voice whispered beside him. Josephine.

"You might be right… the Empire… maybe it's…"

She didn't finish. But Harry gave her a weak, uneasy smile.

He understood exactly what she meant.

Just then, Chris spoke again — calm, yet commanding:

"Escort the guests to the reception hall. Then return to your duties."

A mere butler.

And yet, his voice left no room for question.

Since Emperor Adrian's reign, Chris had been entrusted with all imperial affairs — to such an extent that he had, unofficially, become the most powerful man in the Empire after the Emperor himself.

---

Elsewhere...

In a forgotten region of the Thirteenth Empire, far from all civilization…

A ravaged landscape. The sky was black, streaked with lightning. Thunder rumbled endlessly, shaking the cracked earth.

No signs of life. Nothing but chaos.

This desolate land made up a tenth of Lucian's territory.

And yet… at its very center, a vast la

ke remained.

Unlikely. Almost unreal.

Legend spoke of an ancient creature, slumbering beneath its waters.

A remnant of the age of the gods.

The Leviathan.

If you find any errors ( broken links, non-standard content, etc.. ), Please let us know < report chapter > so we can fix it as soon as possible.