I tapped my device once, the screen lighting up as information on Alexia appeared before me. Her achievements unfolded in precise detail—companies founded, technologies patented, private forces Even without the data, I could already see her.
With a single glance, my perception reached deeper than any record could. Her past, her ambitions, the choices that shaped her into what she was now—all of it lay open before me. I understood who she was, how she thought, what drove her forward.
I deliberately stopped there.
I did not look into her future.
Some things were better left unseen. Not because I couldn't know them—but because uncertainty made things… interesting.
And Alexia Warfare was certainly interesting.
I smiled inwardly. Another Unity member of royal blood—and another leader.
I studied Alexia: pure white-blonde hair, eyes the deep blue of the ocean. Attractive, yes—but more than that, sharp. I thought of Nelson. Equally striking, yet in a different way. Half-siblings who didn't get along, each chosen for a purpose.
Venasa had her reasons; I allowed a small, private smile at her little ploy.
I tapped my other device and called her company. A woman answered immediately.
"Hello, this is Warfare Enterprise. How may we help you? Are you hiring our private army?" she asked.
I cut in smoothly. "Hello."
The secretary froze for a moment, then recognition registered in her voice. Surprised, she hurriedly connected me to Alexia, handing over the device without hesitation.
"Hello, Eternal Imperial Highness. To what do I owe the pleasure?" I could hear the smile in her voice even through the device.
Venasa watched me closely as I spoke, silent but attentive.
"I was wondering," I said evenly, "would you be interested in a partnership? Venasa recommended you, and I trust her judgement."
She spoke, her voice light but curious. "Did she really? That interesting, indeed. What do you have to offer me, then?"
I replied smoothly, a faint chuckle in my voice. "I can allow your Warfare Company access to our Empire's Eternal Super Soldier Program, as you know. It pushes human capabilities to their absolute peak, which would certainly benefit you.
"But the real question," I continued, "is what you can offer me. Since it's me we're talking about, of course I can offer more if you're particularly ambitious."
"What can I offer you… let me think," she said thoughtfully. "You've already put me in a difficult position. What you're offering is extraordinary."
There was a brief pause before she continued.
"Tell me, Eternal Imperial Highness," she said evenly, "your family's Eternal Super Soldier Program… what if I could offer a way to improve it even further? An advanced evolution beyond what your Empire has already created."
She paused, allowing the weight of her words to settle.
"In addition to that, I can provide my warfare systems, my research—everything my company has developed. Not merely to make use of your foundation, but to build upon it. To refine it into something greater."
I considered her words carefully.
The Eternal Super Soldier Program… she was offering to advance it further.
And now she was proposing something more—an evolution beyond even that. A refinement taken to a higher level.
…Interesting, I thought.
I considered her words carefully.
The Eternal Super Soldier Program had been perfected long before the world even knew what power truly was. I had helped create it in the earliest days, before we unified the world, before humanity stood beneath a single banner. It was designed to draw out the absolute limit of the human body—strength, endurance, resilience, lifespan. If I had wished, I could have built an immortal army from it alone.
I chose not to.
And now, here she was… asking to push it further.
Not out of ignorance. Not out of greed.
But with intent.
She wasn't merely offering support or cooperation. She was offering integration. Her warfare systems. Her research. Everything her company had developed in silence. The full weight of her resources, placed deliberately on my side of the board.
That was not something a Unity leader did lightly.
Especially not one whose organisation existed to oppose my Empire.
Which meant one thing was becoming increasingly clear.
Alexia wasn't just proposing an improvement.
She was testing the waters—quietly, carefully—seeing whether aligning with me would serve her better than standing against me.
A shift of position.
A choice.
And perhaps… the beginning of a change in allegiance.
Venasa and Nelson were against me. That much was already clear. They had been from the beginning, plotting in silence, waiting for the right moment to strike.
But Alexia… she wasn't.
That was the difference.
Venasa should never have chosen her.
As I watched her, I realised it—Venasa didn't understand what she had done. She hadn't seen it yet. A leader of Unity, standing in front of me, not with hostility or calculation, but with genuine intent. Offering resources. Offering cooperation. Offering herself to the very power Unity sought to oppose.
She was changing sides.
Maybe she didn't even realise it yet.
Venasa was still watching me closely, measuring every word, every reaction. But I knew something she didn't: a woman like Alexia Warfare didn't make offers lightly. And she certainly didn't place everything she had on the table unless she meant it.
That made her dangerous.
Not to me—but to Unity.
"That's a very intriguing offer," I said evenly. "One that certainly has my interest."
I paused deliberately before continuing.
"So tell me—out of curiosity—what share of the earnings are you willing to offer?"
There was no hesitation in her reply.
"Thirty percent."
I had offered the other two fifty percent of the earnings from their respective ventures. It was an amount that would have made most rulers hesitate—but I did not.
I had no reason to.
The Eternal Empire had ruled Earth for over a hundred thousand years. Wealth, to us, was not something to be chased. It was something that accumulated naturally through time, control, and scale. If I wished, I could generate resources from nothing. Money was never the concern.
What the Empire possessed was not fortune, but permanence.
The wealth we held was not the result of desperation or excess—it was the product of centuries of governance, expansion, and calculated growth. Entire systems had prospered under our rule. Entire industries had risen and fallen at our discretion.
So offering fifty percent meant nothing to me.
Because I was not giving away power.
I was simply allowing others to profit beneath it.
"Well then," I said, "I'll give you fifty percent of the earnings from one of my other projects I'm working on. Is that acceptable?"
I thought the question almost pointless—fifty percent was already more than enough. If she was satisfied, why ask?
"It is, but I'd like fifty-five percent instead," she said before I could continue.
"That's fine," I replied evenly. "I look forward to working with you."
I placed the device down and looked back at Venasa.
"She's an interesting woman, Alexia Warfare. Thank you for recommending her to me."
I twisted my chair, letting the moonlight fall across the room, and took a slow sip of my tea.
Venasa left without a word.
I stayed seated, my gaze fixed on the moon for several quiet moments, letting the conversation—and the implications—settle.
Venya and I clashed upon the practice ground, our blades meeting with explosive force. Each strike birthed a roaring hurricane, the wind screaming as it tore through the air around us.
Yet the ground did not falter.
This place had been built to endure anything. Every collision, every surge of power—no matter how overwhelming—was contained within its bounds. I had designed it that way. No limits. No restraints. A place where immortals and supernatural beings could fight without consequence. Exactly as it should be.
We raised our blades in unison and struck.
Pitch-black flames erupted as our attacks collided, swallowing the practice ground in darkness. Light itself vanished, consumed by the force of the impact.
We stood within that void, clad in dragon armour. Mine absorbed all light, a black abyss given form. Hers shone pure white, untainted by the darkness around it. Among the Eternal Ten Royal Families, her lineage was known as the White Dragon—an inheritance of power and authority few could rival.
We faced one another in absolute darkness.
There was no light—none at all—yet we saw each other clearly. Our presence alone carved shape into the void.
Then we vanished.
We reappeared mid-strike, blades colliding with a thunderous crash. The shockwave rippled outward as we separated, only to strike again an instant later.
Teleport. Clash. Break.
Again.
The darkness trembled with every impact, the ground groaning beneath the strain of containing us. Yet it held, just as it was meant to.
Our movements were flawless. Every strike met. Every counter anticipated. No hesitation. No restraint.
We were perfectly matched.
Locked in a deadlock neither of us could break.
Neither willing to yield.
We both stepped back. I looked around the practice ground, the darkness still heavy in the air. Every time our blades had collided, I had felt it—the way the ground absorbed the impact, how it resisted and held our power instead of breaking beneath it.
I considered changing that.
I could redesign it so that no matter how many times someone fought here, no matter how violent the clash or how overwhelming the force, the impact would no longer be felt at all. No resistance. No strain. Just absolute containment.
The thought lingered for a moment.
But I did nothing. For now, it was enough. The ground still endured, and that was what mattered.