"The Astrals must be invited."
The unfamiliar name immediately caught my attention.
"They’re among the oldest surviving races in existence," Gerald replied. "Far older than the Ironhearts and, in many ways, far stranger."
Evelyn nodded in agreement.
"They’ve remained hidden since long before the Eternals conquered the Prime Territory."
"What makes them special?" I asked.
Gerald smiled faintly.
"Every Astral is born with a Future Sight Talent."
The entire room became quiet.
"Not the same Talent," he clarified. "Future Sight manifests differently for every Astral. One child may glimpse only a few seconds into the future during battle, another may perceive countless possible outcomes before making a decision, while the truly gifted among them can occasionally witness fragments of events centuries before they occur."
He paused, letting the information settle.
"Imagine living your entire life while constantly seeing possibilities instead of certainties. Eventually, you stop making rushed decisions. You stop acting out of anger. You stop believing that the first answer is always the correct one."
"So that’s why they avoid conflict. They don’t avoid it because they’re weak," Gerald corrected. "They avoid it because they’ve already seen where most wars end."
Marcus folded his arms.
"And when they finally decide to fight?"
Gerald’s expression became serious.
"They’ve usually already seen the ending."
Even I couldn’t help raising an eyebrow.
"Now that....is a troublesome race."
A faint smile appeared on Gerald’s face.
"And that’s precisely why I want one of them standing beside us if we’re walking into trials created by the Ruler himself. Raw strength won’t solve everything. Sometimes the correct decision matters more than the strongest punch."
Evelyn nodded thoughtfully before adding, "I’ll send a message tonight. If anyone answers, it’ll be one of their Elders."
Gerald then shifted his finger to another location on the map.
"And don’t forget the Essari."
I frowned.
"I’ve never heard that name either."
"You wouldn’t have."
Gerald chuckled softly.
"They’re even harder to find."
"What are they?"
"They aren’t born the way ordinary races are."
Every eye in the room shifted toward him.
"The first Essari were formed when enormous concentrations of pure Essence gained awareness. They eventually learned to weave Soul Force into themselves, creating bodies that are neither entirely Essence nor entirely Soul."
I couldn’t hide my surprise.
"So they’re..."
"They’re living beings suspended between two forms of existence," Gerald finished. "The living world accepts them because of their Essence. The Null Realm accepts them because of their Soul Force."
Samuel looked genuinely fascinated.
"I’ve never met one."
"You have never been to Prime Galaxy."
Gerald smiled.
"The Essari despise war more than anyone else. They spend their lives studying laws, formations and the nature of existence itself. If the Astrals are the greatest seers in our universe..."
"...then the Essari are its greatest scholars."
He looked directly at me.
"If anyone can understand a phenomenon like the Twelfth Soul Current..."
"...it will be them."
Evelyn nodded without hesitation.
"They’ll receive an invitation as well."
Gerald looked toward her with obvious satisfaction.
"See? Every now and then, you still manage to make an intelligent decision."
Evelyn didn’t even look at him.
"And every now and then, you accidentally say something useful."
"I’ll consider that a compliment."
"It wasn’t intended as one."
"I know."
The two of them exchanged identical looks of irritation before turning away at exactly the same moment.
I couldn’t stop myself from laughing.
For two people who insisted they couldn’t stand each other, they argued with the effortless rhythm of friends who had been doing exactly this for several years.
"Allright any other unique race that I need to be aware of," I asked.
"Well, everyone has their own unique traits. It’s much better if you discover them on your own and get surprised." Gerald chuckled.
"That works as well," I shrugged.
Gerald cleared his throat and folded his hands behind his back once again.
"Now that we’ve apparently agreed to attempt the most ridiculous mission in the history of the Prime Territory," he said with a resigned sigh, "I suppose I should contribute something other than my brilliant advice."
Evelyn raised an eyebrow.
"You were giving advice?"
"I was trying."
"I must have missed that part."
Gerald chose to ignore the remark.
"I own a vessel."
Every person inside the room looked toward him.
"Your ship?" Marcus asked.
Gerald nodded.
"Not an ordinary ship."
His expression finally became serious again.
"For the last several hundred years, I’ve used it to travel between the regions without attracting the attention of the Eternals."
That immediately caught my interest.
"How?"
"The hull is covered with several layers of Soul Coating formations."
He casually drew a small illusion into the air, revealing a sleek black vessel with elegant curves.
"The outermost formations continuously absorb the surrounding Soul Force and imitate the aura of native Soul Sea creatures. The ship doesn’t merely hide itself."
He smiled proudly.
"It convinces the Soul Sea that it is supposed to be there."
Dean leaned forward.
"So every detection formation.....sees it as an ordinary beast."
"Exactly."
Samuel’s eyes widened.
"That’s.....actually incredible. And how you managed to escape from us so many times. Because you live on that damn thing."
"Around 50 years in total I have lived on it."
Gerald sounded entirely too pleased with himself.
"Unfortunately..."
His smile faded slightly.
"...it’s built for research expeditions."
The illusion shrank until it resembled a tiny dot.
"It comfortably carries five people."
Marcus looked around the room before laughing.
"We’re going to have slightly more than five."
"I noticed."
Gerald rubbed his beard thoughtfully.
"If everyone agrees, I could begin constructing a larger version. One capable of carrying our entire expedition while maintaining the same concealment."
He looked toward Evelyn.
"It would dramatically reduce the chances of Verilux noticing our movements before we reach the gate."
Before anyone else could respond, Evelyn slapped one palm against the table.
"Then stop talking and start building. Why are you even asking?"
Gerald blinked.
"...Excuse me?"
"What?"
"You’re asking."
"I’m ordering."
"You’ve become awfully demanding."
"And you’ve become awfully slow."
The old man sighed dramatically.
"I was merely wondering whether anyone intended to compensate me for additional work."
The entire room became quiet. Evelyn slowly narrowed her eyes.
"...You need payment?"
"Naturally."
"For helping save the Prime Territory?"
"Materials aren’t free."
Before anyone could react, Gerald calmly reached inside his robe and produced a tightly rolled scroll. He tossed it toward Evelyn.
"There my requirements."
She caught it before unrolling it across the table.
The scroll...kept going. And going
It rolled straight across the tabletop before spilling over the edge and continuing all the way to the floor.
Samuel slowly whistled.
"That’s... a long shopping list."
Evelyn’s eyes moved across the first few lines. Her expression immediately darkened.
"What in the world is this?"
"My ingredients."
She continued reading.
Her face somehow became even darker. Then she suddenly looked up.
"...Three women between 200-220 years of age?"
The entire room froze. I slowly turned toward Gerald.
He looked completely serious.
"Yes."
Evelyn stared at him in disbelief.
"What kind of ingredient is that supposed to be?"
Gerald looked genuinely confused by the question.
"They’re not ingredients. Then why are they on the list?"
He shrugged as though the answer were obvious.
"They’re for massages. I’ll be spending days building an entirely new vessel for all of you," Gerald continued matter-of-factly. "My shoulders will naturally become stiff."
He looked directly at Evelyn.
"Unless..."
A perfectly innocent smile appeared beneath his beard.
"...you’re volunteering to massage them yourself."
For exactly three seconds...nobody moved. Then Evelyn slowly rolled the scroll back up.
Very carefully and calmly.
She stood. Walked toward Gerald.
And smacked him across the back of the head hard enough for the sound to echo throughout the entire council hall.
Smack!
"You shameless old fool!"