Chapter 143 (Patreon)

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Chapter 143

As Matt and Liz quickly stripped and jumped in the shower, Liz started to give him one last rundown on the Royals. They had done this before, but Matt appreciated the refresher.

“Tur'stal is nice enough, though she has little patience for fools, so no issue there. Out of all the Royals, she's my favorite on a personal level.”

Matt nodded, even though Liz couldn't see it, as she took his place under the stream of water while he soaped himself up.

Coming out from under the water, she continued, “Rusty will definitely try to get you, or even more likely both of us, to spar with him. Do not accept. He doesn't hold back nearly as well as he thinks he does. He’s nice and a great uncle, but he will try to fight you. He tries to fight everyone. He tried to fight me when I was five.”

Matt nodded along as he took his turn under the water.

“Harper won't say much, but they’re far deeper than you'd expect. They run foreign affairs, which includes all the spies of the Empire. So yeah, don't let them drag you into a conversation about anything to do with the other Great Powers. You won’t escape anytime soon, and you’ll have to listen to detailed breakdowns about the other Great Powers political structures and strongest representatives.”

As they toweled off, she shrugged about the last Royal. “I don't know Frederic very well, outside of his reputation. Which is to say, he’s a politically savvy noble who champions noble rights over the more progressive measures that my parents and uncle Manny are pushing. His faction is newer than Tur'stal’s and Rusty’s. It’s made from the more radical elements of those factions, and those who left for greener pastures and ended up settling the border.”

After putting on semi-formal attire, the two of them entered their room to find Emmanuel sitting on the small desk provided, sporting a smirk.

“Is that all you think of my precious Royals, Liz? I’m devastated. You’re lucky I blocked the room off so they couldn't hear you. They would weep at your words.”

Liz didn’t hesitate to shoot back, “If you weren't listening in, you would be blissfully ignorant as well. Hardly my fault.”

Emmanuel's smirk turned into a full-blown grin. “Sorry, my earplugs are only Tier 47. I'm listening to everyone's conversations on all six planets of this star system, whether I want to or not.”

That comment gave Matt pause, but for only a second. The Tier 50 hardly seemed overwhelmed by the influx of information, but Matt wasn't sure he would be able to function with that much sensory input.

Higher Tiers were almost a different species altogether.

After Liz ran a brush through her hair a few times, they were ready to go. With a snap of Emmanuel's fingers, they appeared in a small, but luxurious lounge.

Everything was made of woods polished to reflective levels, or metals with rougher, brushed finishes to contrast with the sleeker wooden facades.

If the objects had been made from lower Tier materials, it would have been one thing, but Matt only recognized one wood type. It had the distinctive alternating black and white layers of spirals that belied its identity as an extinct Tier 46 tree. It was being used as a coaster holder on a side table.

If everything else was comparable, he figured that this single room could be worth more than some star systems.

Mara and Leon were the first people to grab his attention. They were wearing kids' party paraphernalia, which included small hats and noisemakers. Of course, they were blowing and shaking them wildly.

What caught Matt’s eye was the poster that they had written on. The first letters were oversized, and the rest of the letters grew progressively smaller, until they were microscopic.

The sign could only be described as… distracted. ‘Happy meet the Royals to explain your Talents and why you are going to change the Empire. Why do I always forget to plan writing these things out? I say I will every time, but I always forget, and now the first letters are way too big, and I’m running out of space…’

Matt couldn't read anything else after that, since the writing got too small, but he had to laugh at the commitment to the joke.

Having met and lived with two of the Royals, and their being the strongest besides the Emperor, helped Matt brace himself as he met the other four Royals’ eyes.

Tur'stal stood next to a table with a glass of wine in her hand as she watched him and Liz silently. She wore a different but less formal dress than the one she was wearing a few hours ago, at the start of the tournament.

As she watched Matt inspect her, she just smiled as he moved on to the mountain of a man standing to her left.

Rusty was a massive man, and only seemed bigger in the small room and dim lighting. He had also changed into more casual clothes that seemed like a version of sparring gear, but Matt wasn't sure. The style that he thought Rusty’s clothes were based off of was at least a few thousand years old.

Harper had on the same mask and cloak they always did, which gave Matt nothing to inspect. Though, that might very well have been the point.

They were at least neutral in the political tug of war between the Emperor and the old nobles, which made them more of an ally than the others.

At least, in theory.

Frederic was still in a suit and seemed just as average as he had during the opening ceremony, but Matt noticed something different about the man's eyes. They were like lasers that tracked every one of his movements, and seemed to miss nothing he did.

They had all been silent, except for Mara and Leon, for long enough that Liz moved forward and said, “Hi, everyone. Long time no see. Always good to get the extended family together. As I'm sure everyone is salivating to hear my Talent, I do blood things. That's all. We can all go home now.”

Tur'stal met Liz’s sarcasm with a small smile and a slight rise of her wine glass in Liz’s direction, while Rusty laughed outright and extended his arm far enough to ruffle her hair from the other side of the table.

Harper was covered by their mask and robe, which let nothing slip, but they did nod slightly to Liz.

Frederic smiled politely but otherwise did nothing, as the clear outsider..

Matt moved forward and said, “My Tier 1 Talent was rated as detrimental by the Talent system, and for good reason. I can't allocate any essence into my magical cultivation, and my starting mana pool was lowered to 1 mana.”

That earned him several pairs of narrowed eyes aimed at his midsection, where his cores were located, as they looked to confirm his statement.

None of the Royals seemed bothered by the fact that he had a very good veil up to prevent exactly that sort of snooping, but Matt didn’t let that get to him.

“But that wasn't all that my Tier 1 Talent did. It changed how my spirit creates mana. Instead of being a normal, flat rate dependent on my allocation of essence, my mana regenerates faster the lower my current mana pool is. If I'm under one percent of my maximum mana, I regenerate the value of my entire mana pool continuously over the course of a second. A useless Talent without my Tier 3 Talent, which increased my mana pool to 10 mana, and then allowed me to double it for every Tier after that.”

Pausing for a deep breath, Matt continued, “That means that I can currently generate 1,280 mana per second, as long as my mana total is below 12.8 mana. I also can use mana concentration potions down to nearly zero mana, then return my mana pool back to full without issue, which is kinda nice.”

Not knowing how to end that, he finished with a lame, “Yeah, that's pretty much it.” But then he remembered his Concept. “Oh, and my Concept is about endlessly making mana, which lets me give out some mana to those around me. It’s also given my mana an endless sub-aspect. Essentially, my mana kinda lingers and keep effects going on for longer than they should. So, single cast spells fly farther and channels just run on their own without input for a second or two, depending on how much mana I’ve put into them.”

Matt looked around to find three shocked faces and one masked figure looking at him as if he was under a microscope.

***

Frederic paused for a full three-quarters of a second.

An eternity when he lost control of his mental cultivation and started to perceive time as a Tier 46 would.

Still, he was so shocked by the boy's Talent and the ramifications it would bring, he couldn't help but lock up.

Thousands of plans he had carefully been preparing for had been dashed and rendered useless or redundant, but in the best way possible.

He didn’t need his AI to do the math for him, but used it anyway to confirm he wasn't dreaming.

At Tier 30, the child in front of him would have access to more mana than a Tier 50 mage. At Tier 13— just three Tiers higher than his current Tier— the boy would have a greater mana generation than a Tier 50 mage.

The potential impacts were staggering.

When they went public with this, the entire Empire would have seismic reactions to the news. Most would take this as good news, but some would see this as the end of their business.

The price of mana would plummet anywhere Matthew spent even a small portion of time.

The worst-hit industry would be the mana traders. They bought mana from the Empire’s citizens, and held onto it in massive caverns that were spatially expanded to hold rechargeable mana crystals. They then sold that mana back to crafters and the nobility at a small markup. Selling the traders mana was also a small lifeline to poor people down on their luck, as they always bought it at a slightly higher cost than the local guilds and nobles.

He had significant holdings in several of those companies. They normally provided a certain, but slow return on investment.

When the news of Matthew's Talent hit, those stocks would plummet to record lows. They would eventually recover to a degree once people caught on to the fact that Matthew would still need a place to store said mana for distribution. The mana traders would be the only ones with the necessary infrastructure in place.

If he positioned himself right, he might be able to buy out those businesses for little more than the cost of their facilities when the news first hit.

He filed that away as something to do once this tournament was over. If he wanted to pull out of those companies without tanking the stock prices, he would need to move slowly.

Frederic had to give it to Emmanuel. The man had even more luck than cultivation. The Emperor had just put the entire noble faction into check with not a scheme or power play, but one single Talent that his biggest supporters’ daughter just happened to stumble upon first.

With Matthew's Talent, the Empire would be able to run high Tier rifts on the instance cooldown, instead of waiting months or years for the rifts to slowly absorb the sparse ambient mana.

The entire crafters' economy would change, as they would suddenly have more high Tier goods than ever before. It wouldn’t be more than they could use, but certainly more than they could quickly adjust to. Even still, the limiting factor for the crafters would be the amount of available mana. But if Matt was pumping planets full of mana, they’d simply be able to collect it from the air.

The Emperor could leverage Matthew's connection to Elizabeth, Mara, and Leon to focus the boy's efforts on planets and regions that were loyal to him and his way of thinking.

If they did that, the hereditary noble faction would grow weaker and weaker, until they were irrelevant, hollow shells of their former selves. Their citizens would leave by the masses for more profitable regions of the Empire, and no amount of proper administration or leadership could bridge that gap. Before long, the current nobles would be paupers with empty planets and left in no position to bargain at all.

Even the unspoken threat of defecting to another Great Power would be moot. With Matthew, the Empire could finally have a Tier 50 capital. Then, they would be able to produce Tier 50s with no regard to the old international agreements and treaties. The rest of the universe would be at their mercy. Even the most stubborn of the nobles knew that it was better to be the tail of a lion than the head of a mouse.

Everything would change.

Frederic paused again as that thought crossed his mind.

Matthew was still speaking about the first word of his Concept when Frederic peeked over at Rusty and Tur'stal. They were of differing noble factions, but the three of them usually acted in unison to strengthen their position, even if their political bases didn't always agree on the finer details.

They had been there when Elizabeth was born, which meant they had a much greater attachment to Matthew through Elizabeth. Something he sorely lacked.

Maybe he could find an angle. A search into Matthew Alexander’s background brought up that he was 38 years old, last registered as an early Tier 10, and a former ward of the state from the planet… Lilly.

Oh no.

Of all the times and places for their new kingmaker to rise from, that might just be the absolute worst possibility. The age range and orphaned status matched perfectly with his rising fear too. A split microsecond later, the family records and death certificates popped up to solidify the mountainous dread.

Curse those thrice-damned Junipers! How many times must that wretched house of incompetents haunt me?

The Lilly Tragedy had been a disgrace to the Empire, a disgrace to the nobility overall, and a disgrace to his faction in particular. Despite the planet falling under the Emperor’s direct jurisdiction instead of Frederic’s, that Baron had loudly and publicly ascribed to some of his people’s most hard line rhetoric. A highly questionable set of policies, crudely justified by that same extreme philosophy, had been a major contributing factor to the disaster.

Most of his nobles were competent enough to know that the commoners had to be protected, but a few wanted things to return to the old ways. Back then, each planetary leader was a king in his own right, and ruled with an iron fist.

But that only led to disasters. Time and history had proven it over and over again.

It was the type of thing that happened in the Sects, the Federation, or the Collective, not a civilized society like the Empire. Yet, it had happened here, thanks to a single, lazy Baron. That PR nightmare had struck a blow to the nobility's image throughout the entire Empire back then. And on Lilly itself? Well… needless to say, the boy would not be predisposed towards hereditary nobles.

Frederic was well aware that no political system was perfect, but he believed that the hereditary nobility was a key reason that the Empire had grown so well. Despite all the faults of such a system, the nobles had invested heavily in their fiefs. They spearheaded the growth of their planets on a scale incomparable to most of the other, more transient ruling systems. They only looked for short term gains, with little regard for anything else.

It wasn’t even about the hereditary nobles being inherently superior. Hereditary families drew lessons and internal family culture from long legacies of governance. Additionally, children trained from birth to be leaders and societal managers simply ended up as much higher quality rulers on average. Lessons drilled in during those formative years tended to stick with people better. Even if commoners raised to the position had an eternity as adults to learn those same lessons, they very rarely seemed to bridge the gap fully, and many never even got close.

That sort of thing worked passably well in the Republic, and to a lesser extent, the Guilds, because the commoners that gained enough power and status still had to be voted in each term. On top of that, the prominent cultures in those Powers expected a degree of proactivity in their elected officials, which helped weed out the majority of subpar candidates. Their nomination requirements, by design, also favored potential candidates with strong backgrounds in law, finance, administration, management, and military leadership over professional delvers.

In the Empire, people from common stock most often gained life-long noble titles purely through combat power. It was an awful metric to select the ruler of a state with, even if it ensured that the Imperial faction grew continually stronger. Even in those other two Great Powers, a huge portion of their leadership came from political dynasties, which were elected largely based on their family’s reputation for leadership.

They called it by another name, but to Frederic, that just sounded like hereditary nobility with extra steps.

There was a reason that the current Emperor and his father before him had both been descendants of their noble grandmother, who had wrested the throne from the lineage before her. They had been raised with the expectation that they would rule, and were ruthlessly trained on how to do it well. It was the main reason why the throne had stayed inside the family, despite the new dynasty declaring that it would be passed to the most suitable candidate.

A prime example of the opposite was the thuggish Earl that rose to prominence on the back of his [Cracked Shadow Sword]. That immortal manchild ran his province, spanning numerous start systems, like a mix between a street gang and a low Tier guild. Across most metrics, he was running his Earldom less efficiently than ninety eight percent of his peers, all despite having above average resources to work with.

If he was honest, Frederic just couldn’t forgive such an exquisitely rare cracked skill being wasted on such an incompetent, low-life plebian. It was like salt on a gaping wound. At worst, that skill could have been one of the core showpieces of his collection. At best, he could have scoured the Empire for the right person to give it to, creating a new Imperial champion.

That skill would be beyond formidable when combined with the right personality, Talent, Concept, and the uniquely bizarre [Cracked Summon Sentinel] that was currently stashed in Frederic’s hidden vault growth-item, unknown to even the Emperor. All together, it could have been the foundation for a literal one-person army, capable of guarding long stretches of their borders alone. Instead, the Empire got a small-time, would-be gangster playing pretend nobility at the expense of billions.

Sure, hereditary nobility had its issues with bad apples, but it was still one of the better systems currently in use. Even the temporary nobles that the Emperor's father and grandmother had introduced were already showing the same problems that the Republic suffered through. It was getting to the point where administrators did most of the actual ruling, instead of the noble responsible. That worked fine, as long as the Emperor was strong and morally upright, until a less than ideal successor was chosen poisoning the entire system.

But now, the future of his beloved Empire rested on the shoulders of a young man who grew up experiencing only the worst that his faction had to offer. If that wasn’t enough, Matthew had been all-but-engaged to the daughter of his greatest political rivals since he was a teen. No doubt, he had been continuously fed a biased perspective over the decades.

If things went the worst way possible, Tur'stal and Rusty’s factions might eke out a few crumbs being Elizabeth's aunts and uncles, but he and his people would be left with nothing.

Frederic glanced over to Emmanuel, who was watching everyone with his glowing eyes.

He had wondered why the man had bargained away the new Royal title without pushing for any social reforms in the next few thousand years. Now he knew why.

The Tier 50 had known about Matthew, and wasn’t concerned with playing the normal political game when the entire board was about to be flipped. That single Talent would reshape their society on its own.

As he listened to Matthew explain his Concept and how it was synergistic to making mana, Frederic knew what he and all the nobles would have to do.

If they gave up a few of the smaller side issues now, they could bargain for fair treatment and a longer cessation of key changes. Matthew’s mana would be a destabilizing factor in the upcoming years, despite him being sorely needed. If not introduced and managed properly, it could easily cause more chaos than good.

If the Emperor wanted things to stay as stable as possible, as Frederic believed he did with the upcoming war—

Frederic paused once more.

If Light and Shadow were going to kickstart a war, then Matthew was going to restart it, if not escalate it into a true Tier 35 or higher war.

He cranked his perception of time as high as he could to give himself more time to think.

Yes. A second great war was all but guaranteed. That war would likely bring Tier 36s and above, along with higher assets into the field. Everyone would want to get their hands on Matthew.

Few would be trying to kill him; he was simply too valuable. There were levels of value where ‘if I can’t have it, no one can’ prevailed. But for something as mythical as endless mana in unheard of quantities, only the insane would be willing to risk the boy's life.

The war would be over concessions and use of Matthew, in a desperate bid to ensure that their own powers stayed relevant. At this moment more than ever before, he could sympathize with that desire.

As Frederic was planning his next moves, he focused on what Matthew had just said. “I'd like to reiterate. The biggest problem is my mana concentration. I can't manually increase it, which is a problem. Sorry, I forgot to mention that when I said I used potions.”

Frederic froze again. This time for nearly one and half seconds.

A problem?

That wasn't a problem, unless the boy wanted to remain a viable fighter. But everything Frederic had seen of him, in both personas, indicated that the boy loved to fight.

The Emperor had already warned them not to tempt Matthew off The Path because the kid had started to touch upon his Intent when they talked about fighting to protect the Empire.

If the boy wanted to live a life of indolent luxury, then his mana concentration being low wouldn’t matter to him. It could recharge rifts just fine, and would only suffer when people took his mana to convert into their own personal mana. But that issue could be solved with quantity. Something Matthew would have no trouble with. Losing even one percent of efficiency would be a travesty that must be avoided at all cost.

Frederic looked to Emmanuel and caught the Emperor’s eyes, which glowed with his father's Tier 50 Talent.

The man would be working on alternatives as they spoke, but Frederic and his father before him had always invested in advancements in all fields. Now that was going to pay off more than it ever had before. He could have some of the best minds in his kingdom ready to work on finding an alternative way to increase someone's mana concentration in weeks. With an unlimited budget, because mana reserves would become worthless with Matthew, he expected results quickly.

He sent the Emperor a message through their AI, which could move faster than words, as it traveled through their spirits instead of mundane air.

“Congratulations. You drew the wild card, and it trumped the rest of the deck combined.”

Emmanuel smiled like a cat that ate the canary. “Thank you. And yes, I’ll accept your faction's unconditional surrender.” The Tier 50 paused for an antagonizing microsecond before he continued, “Just kidding. If you all agree to five of my demands, I will not push for any new changes until at least the second half of my reign. Even then, I won't touch your rights of succession or your holdings. If you can agree, I will ensure that your regions of space will be treated fairly in any changes that come through Matt.”

Frederic looked through the list that the Emperor sent and sighed internally. The list of demands was light as those things went, more so than even the Emperor probably realized.

The hereditary noble faction would be giving up a bit of power to the Imperial government in the form of greater inspections and a few key resources. But overall, Frederic was surprised by how little the Emperor was pushing. Most of these were concessions that he had convinced his faction heads to trade away over a millennium ago. Since then, he had only fought Emmanuel so viciously on these points to grossly overinflate their perceived value at the negotiation table, hoping to cash in big another few millennia down the line.

Regardless, the Emperor could have demanded far more before Frederic would have balked. Tur'stal and Rusty’s factions would have no issues with these conditions either. In fact, they had been actively preparing to surrender two of their concessions in the coming decade as part of a sacrificial deal.

Frederic was actually pleased to see them forfeited now instead. His fellow Royals had planned to ask far too little in return. In most negotiations, the Emperor would snatch a billion miles if you offered him even a fraction of an inch too easily, much like his father before him. Those quick sacrifices they were willing to make would have cracked the door enough for Emmanuel to jam his foot into the opening. Despite not having a natural seeker’s Talent like his father, Emmanuel was just as politically savvy as his predecessor, and had far more combat strength to back it up. The other Royals were politically adept in their own right, but the Emperor simply worked at a level one step above them. That left Frederic to take the lead on keeping their glorious leader’s more contentious ambitions in check.

So, Rusty and Tur'stal trading these items for equal access to the new endless mana font instead was far more preferable. In their place, he would advise the pair to substitute some guaranteed war contributions in the offer they wanted to propose, but the deal was too good to risk modifying it.

Actually, for the Emperor to be playing so nice at a time like this, he must be dramatically more worried about the coming wars than he let on. That was the only answer that Frederic could come up with that explained why they weren’t being hung out to dry.

Before the deal could get worse, he accepted. “I’ll get my people to agree to those conditions. Speaking of my people, I have quite the number of researchers at my disposal and will be putting them to work on solving the boy's mana concentration issue. What say you about keeping the teams separate for the next hundred years before letting them collaborate with their past works?”

The Emperor nodded. “That's fine and a good idea. But make it seventy years of independent work instead of a full century. I don’t think they’ll be waiting until two hundred years old to reach Tier 25, and we need an answer to potions before Tier 19.”

Frederic checked the math on mana concentration potions and frowned internally.

The boy would hardly be useless, but his potential would take a hit if they didn’t figure something out sooner rather than later. There were only so many high Tier potions, and even then, they would be a drop in the bucket to the boy’s mana pool after Tier 25 or so.

Aunt Helen was coming to this tournament, as she usually did, but she wouldn't be here for another month or so if her usual timeline still applied.

The ancient phoenix was exactly that, ancient. She had more experience reading spirits and how they grew than anyone else, which gave her the ability to predict a person's Talent, to a degree. Other people might be subjectively older than her because of the time dilation in rifts, but she had spent more time in and around people than nearly anyone else. She might be able to see if Matthew was going to have a Tier 25 that fixed the issue. But he also knew that he wasn't the only person aware of that. Besides, the boy had already met the old bird.

If the issue was still being brought up, then she didn’t believe it would be solved by his Tier 25 Talent. Still, there was always the chance that his spirit had grown in a different way than when she had seen him last, five Tiers ago. Hopefully, Helen would be able to predict it more closely this time. Simply based on the pattern forming from the Talent’s Tier 1 and Tier 3 effects, Frederic could easily see the Tier 25 ability going several distinct directions. A few of those general possibilities could significantly change what the Royals needed to prepare for.

Still, it was better to plan for the worst while hoping for the best. He would dedicate his best teams to the work regardless. Most people often dismissed the importance of mana concentration at higher Tiers due to the sharply diminishing returns. However, as the intricacies and complexities of skills, formations, and enchantments continually spiked in later Tiers, the value of mana concentration increasingly became a much more nuanced subject, particularly when it came to crafting.

The boy was wise to present the problem to all of the Royals right away.

Frederic almost felt tempted to bargain with the Emperor about Matthew’s mana concentration, but held back.

Emmanuel held too many cards, and while he was advancing his own agenda, he wasn't putting them over the barrel. Instead, he led with a gentle hand for exactly this reason.

In comparison, Frederic had too few cards left to bluff with, and if he did try to play them, he expected those five demands would multiply.

In exchange for the man acting so gently, Frederic knew that he would be hard pressed to do much of anything for the next few thousand years.

He paused as he scented a glimmer of hope. If the hereditary nobles contributed exceptionally well in the upcoming war, he could leverage that to their advantage. It was one of their only major cards left that didn’t result in severe concessions, or them being left in the cold.

More than ever, he would have to be on the lookout for potential powerhouses that would gain massive power spikes from any cracked skills in his collection. That way, he could reap a small portion of the credit for their later war-time accomplishments too. So long as the cracked skills were framed as gifts in support of the war effort, Emmanuel wouldn’t dare complain either.

Plus, a carefully nurtured reputation for generosity and nonpartisanship in the face of war might soften Matthew’s view towards his faction as well, and help distance them from deadbeats nobles like those bratty Junipers.

Honestly, if Tur'stal were not already forcing him to award cracked skills to the top competitors, he would have been considering the idea anyway. Though the Emperor no doubt poached the best potential gifts in their last negotiation. He still wondered about a few of the more unusual picks Emmanuel had been so insistent on.

Matthew finished talking, so Frederic stepped forward, ready to turn on the charm and give his best first impression possible.

After hearing the boy's Talent, he could think of several cracked skills in his collection that would suit him well. One in particular was an ideal fit for this stage in his development. As the boy was a shoo-in for winning both tournaments, he would owe the kid two skills. He figured that talking shop and showing off his collection was as good an inroad as any.

***

When Harper heard Matt’s Talent, they paused for the first time in the last few thousands years or so.

That just didn’t happen anymore. They had spent more time training to remove those weaknesses than anyone else.

When Harper still had a gender and identity, they had fallen in love with spy work. But to be the best spy, you needed to be able to fit any role. Harper had risen through those murky ranks to where they were now, but that gave them the view to know what was coming.

Everything would change.

The entire lower realm could improve in a million positive ways.

But trillions would pay for it in blood.

War loomed on the horizon. Of that, they held no doubt.

The conflict over Light and Shadow becoming a second pair of Ascenders was now all the more important. They expected all of their greatest enemies to join in on the war, which was now a good thing. If they were able to cripple the others, they might be able to forestall a Tier 35 plus war. Though, Harper found that unlikely— their AI registered the chance at less than two percent.

Still, a Tier 35 plus war was winnable if they prepared properly. Lila Worldwalker, the ascender before Duke Waters, was still in this realm, after all. The dragon was just as formidable now as when she was under Tier 35.

With the Guilds as a staunch ally, they only needed to give enough concessions to the Unification of Clans, the Monster Collective, and the Corporations to stay neutral. If they managed that, their odds of winning were above sixty percent.

Harper looked at Matt and wondered if he was willing to spend some time in those Great Powers. From everything they knew about him, it seemed like he would play ball.

Still, war was coming.

Under the mask, Harper smiled.

They hadn’t assassinated a Tier 47 since before they became a Royal.

They would need to brush up on their skills and ensure they were ready for anything.

Matt, for all his power, was only one person, and Harper believed that the Sects and the Federation would stop at nothing to kill him. Those two Great Powers hated the Empire enough to be willing to doom them all before accepting lesser benefits.

The Sects were the worst; a war that encroached on their territory was always a disaster for the occupying force. The average citizens of the Sects firmly believed that they were the best Great Power, and never cooperated with any invaders. Harper firmly believed that the Empire would have to decisively crush the Sects before they stopped trying to kill Matt.

They were too fanatical.

The Federation hated the Empire for helping incite the war that had cut their territory in half when they discovered a second Tier 46 planet.

Now that they had the possibility for a Tier 50 planet, Harper believed that Virgil, the Federation’s Tier 50 ruler, would see the whole realm stripped of mana before allowing Matt to give the Empire something the Federation had been denied.

That was the difference, though. A single planet only helped one Great Power. Matt could help them all.

Harper looked to the Emperor, and they conversed silently.

In the past years, he had Harper look into ways to keep the other Great Powers out of the wars, and now they knew why.

Their job was now a million times easier with a resource like Matt.

Still, this new asset needed to stay alive if they wanted to reap any benefits from him.

That would not be an easy task.

Maybe, if they played their cards right, they could be assigned to protect Matt. The other Royals all had public personas that they needed to maintain, but Harper never bothered, preferring anonymity instead.

Still, they had time before the other Great Powers knew of his Talent. The dual cover stories of an armor Talent and a talisman Talent fit well enough. I if they were careful, they wouldn't have to deal with more than casual assassination attempts until after Tier 25.

After the secret of his mana came out, though… The other Great Powers might risk sending Tier 45s or higher to end the threat in the cradle, as it were.

Things were about to get busy.

Still, with his endless mana, they had to see if Matt wanted to learn about telekinetic skills. Telekinesis was an incredibly strong branch of magic, often forgotten about because of its high mana cost in both initial cast and channels.

Matt wouldn't care about either of those, and if he practiced, he could get his mana control to a passable level for a telekinetic mage.

And Harper had been looking for someone to pass on their skills to for nearly a thousand years.

Matt had too much versatility to ever truly dedicate himself to the branch of magic, but he could make a passable apprentice if they worked with him enough.

As they saw Frederic move forward, they stepped forward as well.

While the man talked to Matt, they would say hi to Liz. It had been too long since they had seen the young woman.

***

Tur'stal nearly shattered her wine glass as she heard Matt explain his Talent and Concept.

Everything would change.

She had quickly worked out a deal with Emmanuel as soon as she realized that the nobles' position had turned from one of slow bleeding to being decapitated.

Better for her faction to concede early and get a better deal.

From the results, she believed that Emmanuel was truly worried about the upcoming wars. And she understood why.

They were going to have to deal with attacks from every side if they wanted to make it out better than the Federation had.

Still, Tur'stal believed in their chances.

The Empire stood strong, and was only growing stronger.

Years of hard work had finally paid off, and they were rewarded with a young man who could single-handedly change the realm.

They might end up sharing some of that wealth, but she believed they would come out on top.

As she sipped at her wine, she smiled.

Matt would be creating Tier 50 rifts on the capital, she was sure. He would need to sit and feed the rift mana so it didn’t Tier down, but based on the math, she suspected he could do it around Tier 35 or so. After that, he would just have a larger and larger surplus.

The Emperor would be delving the Tier 50 rift as fast as he could, and she couldn't wait.

With Matt around, there was no reason to follow the old treaties, which limited their Tier 46 and higher assets so no one ruined their capital planet to get a short term advantage in war. Now though, she would be able to reach Tier 50 in this realm, and upgrade all four of her Talents when she ascended.

That had been just a dream until a few minutes ago, but now she couldn't wait.

With the Emperor and Matt both using the same Talent, they should be able to Tier up the capital to Tier 50 before the Emperor’s reign ended in 28,213 years.

The math said it was possible. That was enough for her.

But what she really relished was the advantage for the people in her queendom. She couldn't wait to get Matt to do a tour of her queendom and Tier up her planets. Her people would grow and prosper in a way that they had never been able to before.

Her people were like plants in her garden. Each needed love and care to grow big and strong.

For too long, her people had been dealing with good enough, rather than an abundance.

Tur'stal had plans of creating smoothly ascending pyramids of planets, so there were fewer bottlenecks in people's advancement. A utopia of worlds, where no one had to wait to delve a higher Tier rift for hundreds of years. It would also allow her to finally get all of her planets to a Tier 5 minimum. Even as an old kingdom, they were still expanding into new planets, just at a slower rate than the borderlands. The Empire expanded in every direction in chaotic space, after all. As long as new worlds passed by her borders, she snatched them up.

At that point, her people could safely advance. Those that would stop at Tier 5 or so would be able to live peaceful lives without worry of a lack of mana, and those who wished to advance and grow would be able to spend mana freely. They would no longer be limited by availability, nor have to gather their mana before doing anything.

She was already putting plans in place so her people could be ready to embrace the changes that would be taking the Empire by storm.

She could barely wait.

***

Rusty could barely restrain himself when he learned of Matt’s Talent.

Everything would change.

With a few spoken sentences, thousands of military super projects that never even left the theoretical design stage had just become completely viable. The absurd upfront mana costs to build them, which originally rendered them fantasies, would not even be a consideration soon. The armed forces would never be the same.

He had always wanted to make the moon laser base, but they never had been able to power it. Not without higher Tier mana stones than were allowed in the political wars.

Rusty also understood the societal ramifications of that Talent well enough to have a dozen plans ready to go. He personally knew of two guilds and a noble family that were trying to dabble in aperology, and had requested funds to push their projects past Tier 5, but he never had even a fraction of what they needed. Rifts worked well enough as they were for any additional funding to be allocated to it.

After learning about Matt’s extracurriculars, he had just the people to point the kid to.

If nothing else, the guilds and noble family would sacrifice any and everything to get into the ‘Mattery’s good graces.

He smirked at his own joke. Mattery was a good pun. Almost as good as his own situation with his stamina.

Still, the kid would be a walking fount of changes to the Empire in both social and economical ways. But what he really cared about was getting the kid to Tier 47 and having a good brawl with him.

Even at Tier 10, the kid showed a deft hand with both blade and spell, and Rusty always enjoyed fighting a proper hybrid better than any more specialized fighter.

His Talents turned his mana into stamina, and his spells were all converted to have internal effects that further boosted his physicality to incredible levels. His stamana, as he liked to call it, allowed for him to be a hybrid in the truest of senses.

He even created more energy with [Endurance] than the skill's cost, giving him his own version of endless magic. Though, it was limited to himself, as his stamana couldn't be removed from his body.

Better than anything else, Matt and Liz both had potential to give him a good true fight. Matt, with his endless and absurd amounts of mana, might be able to match his physical might, with all of his essence going to his physical cultivation. Along with a few spells to boost it. Rusty doubted that would be enough to outdo the multiplicative effect of his stamana core, but it might get him close. And if he was right about how Little Liz's fighting style would grow, she would be a monster to beat.

But those were always the best fights.

As he saw Frederic and Harper going to talk to the boy and Liz respectively, he stepped forward as well.

If he caught them early, he might be able to convince Matt and Liz to spar before they started the boring talking.

***

Leon watched as his fellow Royals learned of Matty's Talent.

His not-quite-official son-in-law had been kind enough to share his Talent with him and Mara without any prompting, on only the second day they had met, which only warmed his heart more.

Still, he scrutinized his Royal counterparts more than the star of the show.

If any one of them were entertaining less than pure thoughts, he would not hesitate to kill them.

He and his wife had already planned out what they would do.

If someone legitimately threatened one of their kids, he and Mara wouldn’t let it go unpunished. Whether it was their fellow Royals— which was doubtful, but always a possibility— or more likely, another Great Power.

And if that someone wanted to black bag Matty and shove him into a box, they wouldn’t hesitate to act. In that event, Mara would take the kids out past the Great Powers until both Matty and BethBeth were strong enough to protect themselves and ascend. Meanwhile, he would protect the rear and keep any potential pursuers busy.

The simple truth was that she was faster than him in her phoenix form, and had the best chance to escape while carrying low Tier cargo.

As two Tier 48s, they had more than enough power to protect Matty, even if the power expenditure meant that Leon would probably be forced to ascend.

If he did that alone, without Mara ascending simultaneously, right beside him, there was only a one in three chance that they’d end up in the same higher realm.

That was less than ideal, but from the little they knew of the higher realms, not an insurmountable challenge to overcome.

Still, if you weren't willing to make sacrifices for your kids, then why be a parent?

It was a good thing that none of them seemed to have ill intentions, so he kept waving his noisemakers, trying to get a rise out of either of his kids.

Maybe if he tooted a song with the rollout paper thing?

It was worth a shot. If nothing else, Mara would laugh. That was always more than enough for him.

Some things would never change.