Chapter 138: [Different paths lead to different goals] (Well, four hours left, fight to the end!)

When Adric walked into the grand hall, he kept his gaze straight ahead, his expression cold and his resolute facial features as sharp as if carved by a blade. Beneath his bright red cloak, he wore a suit of black iron armor, and with every stride, the clanging sound seemed to whip up an aura of martial slaughter.

As he mounted the steps, the palace guards flanking the hall in their golden armor, holding long battleaxes, seemed to sense the chilling aura radiating from the general, tightening their grips on their weapons instinctively.

Adric lowered his brow. Suddenly turning, he swept back his cloak and unbuckled his long sword. A palace attendant following close behind hurriedly stepped forward with both hands held out to receive it, whispering, "Please enter, General."

This overbearing general, however, wore a look of cold composure, completely devoid of his usual arrogance. He let out a low hum of acknowledgment and strode inside.

The linen-clad court attendants flanking the interior watched the military commander march in with his head held high, and simultaneously a strange illusion struck them—it was as if not a man was walking past them, but a fierce tiger!

The heavy, massive doors opened and then closed behind him as Adric stepped into the inner chamber. Emperor Contos sat upright behind his desk, raising his head slightly. A faint smile graced his somewhat sickly face. "You've returned?"

Adric said nothing. He dropped immediately to one knee, executed a meticulous salute, and then slowly rose to his feet, meeting the Emperor's gaze directly. "I have returned."

Emperor Contos gazed at Adric's face, locking eyes with him for a moment. Finding not the slightest ripple of emotion on Adric's face, the Emperor let out a silent, inward sigh, his voice deep and deliberate. "The Thirteenth Legion—having you hand over command, did you harbor any resentment in your heart?"

Adric shook his head, though the scar across his face twitched ever so slightly.

"You must have felt some grievance." The Lancer Emperor stood up, slowly walking around the desk. He was actually half a head taller than Adric, but his sickly frailty could not be concealed; his broad frame seemed tottering and unstable, completely devoid of the fierce, rugged aura that Adric possessed. "I can understand. After personally leading an army for so many years, handing it over... some bitterness is inevitable."

Adric shook his head, his expression solemn. "Your Majesty allowed me to command for nine years without suspicion or doubt; that has already been your greatest trust in me. I dare harbor no complaints."

"Heh heh!" Emperor Contos chuckled, gazing deeply at Adric. "You 'dare not'?"

Adric pressed his lips together and remained silent.

This silence lasted even longer than the previous one. Finally, the Emperor spoke in a slightly hoarse, low tone, "Tell me, Adric—can I trust your loyalty?"

Adric seemed momentarily stunned. Before he could answer, the Emperor continued in a low murmur, "...Of course you can! I know very well that within this empire, within the army, if even you, Adric, cannot be trusted, then no one else can speak of loyalty at all! Therefore... I trust your loyalty."

Yet at these words, the Emperor's tone suddenly shifted. Within his eyes, which had previously held the dimness of twilight, a sharp, piercing edge suddenly flashed!

"It's just that, Adric, what makes me hesitate is... is your loyalty owed to me, or is it owed to this empire?"

Adric frowned deeply, pondering for a moment before replying, "Your Majesty and the Empire—are they not one and the same?"

"No." The Emperor raised an eyebrow and smiled coldly. "I am the Emperor, but Byzantium remains Byzantium! I am no longer the Emperor, and Byzantium... is still Byzantium!!"

The words struck like thunder, bursting from the Emperor's lips with an oppressive, overwhelming force. Adric stood tall and proud, lowering his gaze without a word.

Finally, he shook his head slowly. "What Your Majesty speaks of, I do not understand, nor do I wish to understand—I am merely a soldier!"

"You do not wish to understand!" Contos murmured, studying him for a long time. Then, suddenly turning, he walked back behind his desk and sat down, meeting Adric's eyes levelly. "What I want is precisely your 'unwillingness to understand'!"

With that, the Emperor waved his hand, tossing a rolled parchment across the desk. It landed with a sharp *flap* at Adric's feet.

"This! I hand it over to you! Trust—I hand it over to you!" The Emperor's gaze suddenly turned grim and piercing, each word squeezed out as if he were growling in a low snarl. "The future of the Empire... I hand that to you as well!"

Adric bent down, picked up the parchment, and slowly unrolled it. Taking in the handwriting and the seal marks, his entire body shuddered. Standing rigidly straight, he raised his head to look at the Emperor before him. Emperor Contos appeared utterly exhausted and frail, as if that brief outburst of emotion had drained the last remnants of his energy. He now half-leaned against his chair, his breathing rapid and ragged.

"Adric, I know very well that your loyalty is not to me, but to the Empire!" Emperor Contos wheezed, his breath sounding like a broken bellows. "By my side, it is not as though there are no men loyal only to me. But the ridiculous part is... these men cannot accomplish great things! While you—you can!" The Emperor pressed his hands against the armrests of his chair, leaning his torso forward slightly. "They are loyal to me because I am the Emperor! But an emperor can cease to be an emperor. Yet you are loyal to the Empire! Byzantium will always be Byzantium!"

Adric's chest swelled outward, and the fierce excitement on his face began to surface, bit by bit. Finally, he let out a long breath, the look in his eyes complex beyond measure—gratitude, shock, admiration, and, above all, an indescribable reverence!

"Are you... willing?" The Emperor stared straight into Adric's eyes. "This matter cannot be entrusted to anyone else! Even when giving it to you, I worry whether you can accomplish it well. It's just that... apart from you, there is no one else I can trust!"

Clutching the parchment, Adric slowly raised his right hand and struck a heavy blow against his chest, answering the Emperor with a solemnity he had never shown in all his life.

"Even if there is a sheer cliff ahead, I will charge forward without hesitation—Your Majesty, this is my oath to you."

Emperor Contos finally found peace of mind. He let out a heavy sigh, waving a weak hand. "Very well, you may withdraw..."

Adric nodded silently, turned, and walked away. He had only taken two steps when the Emperor's low voice came from behind him once more.

"Upon your return this time, regarding the matters of the Senate... Now that you bear heavy responsibilities, do not let other matters distract you. Although you are a member of the Senate, I believe that at a time like this, you know what is of primary importance."

Adric said nothing. He merely paused slightly, drew a deep breath, and continued out of the room. Behind him, a trace of faint disappointment involuntarily flickered in the Emperor's eyes.

Stepping out of the grand hall, a palace guard handed back his sheathed sword. Adric carefully fastened the weapon to his waist and began walking down the steps step by step. Yet at this moment, his heart felt weighed down by a mountain. The imperial decree bearing the Emperor's own handwriting rested inside his tunic, pressing directly against his heart. Adric took several deep breaths, but they could not dispel even a fraction of the oppression.

He lacked neither courage nor loyalty. Indeed, when he had first seen the decree, the passionate fervor of his youth had reignited within his chest—Your Majesty had finally made up his mind, after all!

Yet having truly accepted this mandate, he understood clearly that from the moment he stepped out of those doors, the path beneath his feet would be fraught with hidden daggers and open arrows. From then on, whether it was a mountain of blades, a sea of fire, or an abyss of a cliff, he would not be allowed even the slightest retreat!

*(At worst... I shall shatter my bones to repay this trust.)*

The overbearing general hardened his heart, summoning a soldier's bold heroism. Yet the faint smile at the corner of his mouth carried a taste of absolute resolution.

As he reached the bottom of the steps, a figure suddenly hove into view ahead of him. The figure wore a gray linen robe and cloth shoes, moving with an ineffable grace and serenity. Amidst the solemn and majestic atmosphere of the grand hall, he seemed to be strolling through his own private courtyard, a sense of detached transcendence from his surroundings leaping forth with every step.

The two drew closer and closer. Adric's eyes did not even glance at the man, intending to walk straight past him. As their paths crossed, the man suddenly seemed to chuckle. "General."

Adric acted as if he saw nothing, continuing his stride forward. The man behind him spoke again, his tone completely devoid of any anger at being ignored, smiling as he called out, "General Adric."

Adric finally halted. Frowning deeply, he turned his head to glare at the man, his gaze ice-cold. "Mr. Cavasier, Your Excellency should understand that we seem to have no common topics between us."

Cavasier stood there, smiling with an otherworldly detachment. Though his face was aged, his eyes were as serene and gentle as a young maiden's. "General."

"If you have something to say, spit it out!" Adric stared coldly at Cavasier. "Those who walk different paths cannot make plans together—those were your own words back then."

Cavasier shook his head gently, his smile warm. "I have seen that child."

Adric's gaze shifted abruptly, though he immediately relaxed, feigning complete indifference. "I am hardly surprised. In Ausilia—no, throughout the entire Empire, across the entire continent, is there anything you do not know?"

Cavasier looked into the other's eyes, an unreadable smile playing within his own as he spoke in a low voice, "It is that child I wish to speak to you about. Indeed."

Adric's expression changed violently. A blazing, fiery light erupted in his eyes as he fixed a dead stare on Cavasier. At that moment, a murderous intent even flashed through his gaze!

"Cavasier!" The general looked like a tiger baring its fangs. "You had best not lay a finger on that person! That is my bottom line! Otherwise... humph!"

Though a slaughterous aura akin to a collapsing mountain enveloped him, Cavasier's expression remained as light as a breeze and calm as a cloud, not a single ripple disturbing his gaze as he endured the other's surging anger.

With his face full of fury, Adric turned and strode away. After he had taken a few steps, Cavasier's voice drifted faintly from behind: "Viera... some days ago, I dispatched her to Odin."

Adric's body stiffened. This time, however, he did not stop, continuing his stride far into the distance. Yet a close observer would have noticed that the hands hanging at his sides were clenched so tightly into fists that his knuckles had turned stark white...