Chapter 1146: 1147 In The Shadows

n(.o-)v--E./l--b.)1--n

Chapter 1147 In The Shadows

Lyon and the others joined the dining room where Elandril and Iris awaited. It was a rare and grand moment for Eldora as the empire hosted not just one, but three Emperors—the Orc Emperor, the Elven Emperor, and the Zodiac Emperor. The convergence of such esteemed figures marked an occasion of significance.

While Cecile and Selena were adept at displaying refined table manners, Lyon, Kesya, and Rakumtatak found themselves less accustomed to the formalities. The contrast in their behavior added a touch of humor to the gathering. Lyon, known for his straightforward and often unconventional ways, glanced around the ornate dining table with a hint of bemusement.

Kesya, never one for formality, winked playfully at Lyon, who responded with a hearty laugh. The three Emperors, each representing their unique realms, brought a mix of dynamics to the regal setting. The atmosphere in the dining room was a blend of elegance and a certain raw authenticity, a testament to the diverse personalities that had come together.

Yala, finding amusement in the less formal behavior of Lyon, Kesya, and Rakumtatak, couldn't help but let out a laugh. However, her moment of mirth was short-lived as she received a stern gaze from her mother, Iris.

Caught between the lighthearted atmosphere created by the three unconventional Emperors and the expectation of decorum from her mother, Yala stifled her laughter and exchanged a quick glance with her companions. The contrast in their behavior, though entertaining, highlighted the delicate balance between tradition and the vibrant, unpredictable energy that the trio brought to the Eldora dining table.

After seemingly finishing their meal, faces painted with satisfaction, Yala took the opportunity to address Lyon. "Uncle Lyon, we meet again."

Lyon raised his brows, a playful smirk on his face. "I think that's a bit too late, don't you think?"

"Better than never," Yala giggled. "However, to be honest, I never thought that you would climb so high in a matter of days since the day we met. Incredible!"

Lyon's grin widened, his head figuratively growing as he basked in the praises from the princess.

Iris looked at Liu, her concern evident in her gaze. She then turned her attention to Lyon, her expression serious. "Lyon, you just cleansed his mark. You do know the consequences, right?"

Lyon tilted his head in confusion, unaware of the potential repercussions of his actions. Rakumtatak grinned, seemingly amused by the unfolding situation. Elandril, the Elven Emperor, patted Iris's shoulder and offered a reassuring smile. "Lyon knew exactly what he was doing. Offending Purgatory is not a price he cannot pay."

Liu, feeling a sense of guilt, looked down, realizing that he had unintentionally put his master into a predicament. Lyon, however, crossed his arms, a determined look on his face. "I have a feeling that I will have to face Purgatory. Besides, they have a debt that is due."

The room fell into a momentary silence, the weight of Lyon's words hanging in the air. The consequences of challenging the forces of Purgatory were unknown, but Lyon, with his characteristic confidence, seemed prepared to face whatever awaited him.

Liu's eyes brightened with hope as he heard his master's determined words. The prospect of Lyon taking on Purgatory, fueled by the desire to reunite with his missing wife, resonated with a sense of purpose.

However, Elandril, perceptive as ever, interjected with a note of caution. "But Lyon, the way you are now, you're not strong enough to face them yet. Confronting Purgatory requires strength beyond what you possess at the moment."

Lyon acknowledged Elandril's concern with a nod. "I know that beating Purgatory will come after I find my wife. It's a journey I am willing to undertake, no matter the challenges."

Rakumtatak, always direct, added his perspective, "Oh yeah, you do have one more, didn't you? Where is she?"

"That's what I want to know," Lyon replied, his expression turning somber. The quest to locate his missing wife added a layer of complexity to Lyon's journey. His emotions, a blend of determination and longing, mirrored the broader challenges he faced as the Zodiac Emperor in the intricate tapestry of Fifth Hell.

Elandril's expression remained solemn, a reflection of the gravity of the situation. "I'm afraid there is nothing of such news other than the leads that you already know—the mysterious healer."

"We did try to send an invitation once," Iris added, her voice carrying a tinge of regret. "However, there was no response." She shook her head, expressing disbelief. "Still, I can't believe that she would be Maria herself."

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Lyon, growing more intrigued, raised his brows. "Where did you send this invitation to?"

Elandril sighed, a hint of frustration in his voice. "We tried putting out a broadcast, reaching as many corners of Fifth Hell as possible. Little did we anticipate that there were frauds out there daring enough to pretend to be the mysterious healer."

The revelation of impostors added a layer of complexity to Lyon's quest, and the room's atmosphere grew heavier. The search for Maria, intertwined with the mysterious healer, took on a new dimension. The challenges of discerning truth from deception in the vast expanse of Fifth Hell seemed daunting.

Rakumtatak, known for his straightforwardness, grunted in disapproval. "Frauds in a realm like this. Pathetic."

Rakumtatak's disdain was evident as he snorted, crossed his arms, and held his head higher. "You did kill the imposters, did you not?"

Elandril, choosing his words carefully, opened his lips but refused to answer directly. Instead, he took a deep breath before responding, "We are at peace. I wish not to shed bloodshed on my own people for simple matters like this."

The room seemed to absorb the weight of unspoken tension, the differing philosophies of the Elven Emperor and the Orc Emperor now laid bare. Rakumtatak, known for his straightforward and unyielding approach, did not hide his disapproval. "Pathetic," he declared, his tone a gruff judgment. "You're too soft for your own good, for your people as well."

Lyon, the enigmatic Zodiac Emperor, observed the exchange, his mind a whirlwind of contemplation. The dynamics among the Three Emperors revealed the intricate tapestry of ruling in Fifth Hell, where maintaining peace within one's realm often required navigating a treacherous path between diplomacy and the harsh realities of the underworld.

Elandril, committed to preserving the delicate equilibrium of his empire, understood the potential consequences of shedding Elven blood in response to fraudulent actions. The struggle to find a balance between justice and mercy, strength and restraint, played out in this very moment.

Cecile, breaking the brief silence, spoke with measured words. "Each realm has its own ways, Rakumtatak. What may seem soft to you is a testament to Elandril's dedication to maintaining harmony. The path of leadership in Fifth Hell is as diverse as the realms themselves."

Rakumtatak grunted in response, still unconvinced, while Elandril met Cecile's gaze with a nod of acknowledgment.

Iris, sensing the mounting tension in the room, took charge to diffuse it. "I think that our conversation for the night is enough; let's head to sleep and refresh our minds for the day ahead."

Cecile, always practical, nodded in agreement. "That's a great idea."

The authority and composure wielded by Iris and Cecile seemed to effortlessly sway the atmosphere. The three emperors, despite their diverse personalities, found themselves compelled to follow suit. Rakumtatak, perhaps begrudgingly, agreed with a resigned nod. He stood up, letting out a boisterous yawn, and made his way to his chamber. "Oh, I'm going to snore so bad, you all better close your ears, ahahaha!"

Lyon and Elandril shared a knowing smile before following suit, each retreating to their respective chambers. The weight of the night's discussions lingered, but the prospect of rest offered a temporary respite. The grandeur of the Eldora palace swallowed the emperors into its depths, the echoes of their footsteps fading as they dispersed to prepare for the challenges that awaited them in the days to come.

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In a dimly lit room concealed from prying eyes, a gathering of cloaked figures engaged in a hushed discussion. Hoarse voices exchanged concerns, expressing unease over the emperor's recent decision to extend an invitation to an orc—an act seemingly contrary to the traditional ways of the elven.

"Quiet down," commanded one figure, taking the initiative to pull back the cloak and reveal himself as Elder Ithildir. His eyes, though aged, glinted with resolve. "It seems like the emperor has long since drifted away from our ancestors' ways. It is up to us to realign them."

A murmur of agreement rumbled through the assembled figures, their faces still veiled in shadows. Another voice, equally weathered, spoke up. "The elven have thrived for centuries by adhering to the wisdom of our forebears. This deviation from tradition risks unsettling the delicate balance we have maintained."

A figure in the corner, unseen but for the faint glow of a hidden amulet, added, "We must act before the foundations of Eldora crumble. The alliance with an orc, of all creatures, threatens the very essence of our heritage."

Elder Ithildir, with a stern expression, nodded. "Our duty is clear. We must guide the emperor back to the rightful path. Our ancestors entrusted us with the preservation of elven values, and we cannot allow that legacy to be tarnished."

As the cloaked figures deliberated, the room, though shrouded in shadows, echoed with the weight of impending decisions.

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