Caron returned to Raelnia together with Seria and Gratia. The mission had ended in only two days.
As she slipped down from Gratia's back, Seria muttered under her breath, "Those poor knights. To be abandoned again in this lifetime..."
"You oath-bearer," Gratia said dryly, "You really are a heartless one."
Since Gratia also knew the secret of Caron being Cain's reincarnation, she joined Seria in reproach.
Caron, however, landed with a shameless grin and shrugged as he said, "You'll have to understand. I couldn't stay there forever, could I? Besides, I was their Special Operations Commander once, you know."
"'Was,' you say?" Seria replied with a little smirk. "I'm not sure about that."
"Then you take the role, Seria," Caron snapped.
"I despise troublesome work," Seria said firmly. "Of course you should remain the Commander, Warrior."
Once they landed safely in Raelnia, the commanders who had been waiting stepped forward.
At their head stood Halo. He looked Caron up and down, then let out a weary sigh and said, "What on earth happened in only two days? You've nearly filled the eighth sea."
"I made a good connection," Caron said lightly. "Luck was very much on my side, Grandfather."
"Truly, you were born with fortune," Halo muttered.
"It's a long story, really," Caron added with a grin.
The power of Void had been absorbed rapidly into Caron. Rael, through the Void Walker, had taught him in advance how to take it in; and Guillotine had practically ground its very soul away to help. Because of that, even a full day later Guillotine still hadn't spoken a word—proof enough of how grueling the battle had been. Caron himself, thanks to Seria's aid, was perfectly fine.
Pluto seems to have changed a lot too... Caron thought.
Pluto, the Dark Spirit, had shown an even more dramatic transformation than Caron himself. For some reason, Void's power had affected it differently. Now, Pluto couldn't even be summoned. Caron would need time to see what had truly happened.
Quickly gathering his thoughts, Caron flashed a bright smile at Halo and began, "I've also brought good news for the expedition."
"We'll hear it inside headquarters," Halo replied calmly. "The other commanders must listen as well."
"Yes, I understand," Caron answered.
The group made their way toward the headquarters at a steady pace.
Perhaps because Caron had overturned things before leaving on the mission, hostile gazes fell upon him as he walked. Some ground their teeth as they looked at him. Caron accepted their resentment with utter satisfaction.
"Everyone's eyes have sharpened nicely," he muttered.
Indeed, nothing united a divided force more than a common enemy. It warmed him to see men who had been bickering only days ago now glaring at him with such unity.
"The training is yielding results," Halo said in a low voice with his hands clasped behind his back. "New troops are joining from all over, supplies are plentiful, and preparations for the expedition are proceeding without issue. I don't know what gift you've brought, but I hope it lives up to my expectations."
"Don't worry, Grandfather. You'll be more than pleased," Caron replied with confidence.
Grandfather and grandson entered the headquarters side by side, accompanied by the other commanders.
The meeting chamber was spotless, with not a speck of dust in sight. The commanders of the expedition took their assigned seats. Caron sat at Halo's right hand; at Halo's left, as was only proper, sat Vice Commander Hollander.
"Begin your report," Halo ordered.
At that cue, Caron glanced at Gratia. With a sigh, the dragon waved her hand.
A brilliant light gathered in midair, forming a three-dimensional map. The spectral Ghost Island, Desertus, was formed through the draconic incantation.
"As you can see," Caron began, "The island is vast, nearly the size of the Orias Empire's capital. Once, it was so barren it couldn't be used at all. But now, the situation has changed. With the help of mages and engineers, restoration seems possible."
The commanders' eyes lit up at his words. To reach the Demon Realm, they would normally have to sail the treacherous North Sea for an entire month. A place to dock midway would dramatically increase their chance of success.
But Caron's news didn't end there.
"Through further investigation, we confirmed that the island once housed an ancient civilization. There are traces of cities—and even survivors. I left Sir Kerra, Dame Uriel, and Sir Ugo stationed there," Caron continued.
Since the commanders here still believed Beatrice to be Uriel, Caron offered that clarification.
At this, Cor, the Master of the Empire's Magic Tower, gaped in shock and asked, "Is... Is that true, Caron?"
"Yes," Caron replied calmly.
"Incredible. I thought it was nothing but a theory among scholars... and you say there are survivors? After three hundred years? Could it be that the race that lived there had extraordinarily long lifespans?" Cor asked. His curiosity burned.
Caron gave a quiet smile as he explained further, "The region was scarred by the Demon King of Void. Space and time themselves were twisted there. Because of that, only thirty years have passed on the island."
"Fascinating! Absolutely fascinating!" Cor cried, clenching his fists. "And you're not the type to lie about something like this."
At that moment, from farther down the table, Libre, the Master of the Dark Magic Tower, chuckled and spoke up. "Haha, Magic Tower Master of the Empire, surely you're too excited. In a formal council like this, calling him 'Caron' is hardly proper. His full title is Special Operations Commander of the Expedition, directly under the Commander himself. You ought to address him with respect due his rank—"
"Shut up, dark mage bastard," Cor interrupted. With a flick of his will, he sealed Libre's mouth shut and pressed Caron with even greater eagerness. "Are you certain that the traces of a city remain?"
"Yes," Caron replied. "According to the lone survivor, some of the buildings could even be restored."
"A chance to study a veiled, unknown civilization of the ancients!" Cor exclaimed.
Everything was falling neatly into place—exactly as Caron had hoped. He smiled. Desertus was positioned in the most strategic of locations, and restoring it would absolutely require the aid of mages—especially the power of the empire's Magic Tower, the greatest on the continent.
The mages had formally joined the expedition, but everyone knew that their kind was selfish by nature. And with Desertus being a place only reachable after two weeks of perilous sailing across deadly waters, the chance that they would volunteer their aid had been slim.
But now the situation had shifted. A lost civilization was there. Survivors who could serve as guides were there. There was no way the mages wouldn't be tempted.
"Let us form a fleet at once!" Cor declared, pounding his small fist against the desk as he rose. But since he wore the form of a boy, his outburst carried little intimidation. "An ancient civilization, everyone! An ancient civilization!"
Caron lifted his chin, smiling faintly as he said, "For reference, I have given that civilization a name: The Arcane Civilization. My insight wasn't enough to grasp its full scope... but in that regard, I shall leave the details to Lady Gratia."
Magic and dragons were practically one and the same. As the stage was passed to her, Gratia shook her head slowly before saying in a low voice, "The oath-bearer speaks truth. Even I felt curiosity about that civilization."
No details had yet been uncovered, but the fact that even a dragon admitted to curiosity carried weight.
With that official acknowledgement, Cor turned on Halo with burning fervor. He exclaimed, "Commander! This is an opportunity that will never come again. It could change the course of the war itself! If we can absorb the magic and technology of an ancient civilization, the risk is more than worth it!"
The Imperial Magic Tower Master, usually so indifferent, had grown passionate, leaving the other commanders with no rebuttal.
Halo raised a hand toward him and said, "Tower Master, it would be best if you calmed yourself."
"But Commander—" Cor began, but was cut off.
"I am the Commander," Halo said, his voice steely. "Before we speak of magic or technology, we must first consider the sacrifices our choice will demand. Do you understand my meaning?"
A pressure beyond human limits filled the chamber. Cor clicked his tongue in regret, then sat down and bowed his head slightly as he said, "My apologies. I was... overly excited."
"Your opinion is understood. Do not worry," Halo reassured evenly.
Then, his gaze shifted to Caron. His deep voice resonated across the table. "I see clearly how important this place is. But who will volunteer? It is far too dangerous. An improvised fleet will not be enough."
Though Raelnia's military port was being rebuilt, acquiring ships sturdy enough for such a voyage remained difficult. Aside from the vessels of the Pirate Queen and the Free City Union, they had no proper warships.
Caron, however, was ready. He spoke as if he had been waiting for this moment. "Commander, I don't believe in human goodwill. Who would risk their precious ships for a mission this dangerous? A vessel capable of surviving the northern sea is a nation's treasure."
Ideals and justice didn't matter much. People only awoke when calamity pressed against their throats. Instead, Caron trusted something else.
"Here is what I propose," he began as he glanced around the table, lips curling upward. "Any force that participates in the reclamation of Desertus will be promised immense rewards. For example... The technology or treasures we discover from the ancient civilization will be shared with them."
It was greed. Greed had always driven people forward. No emotion was as reliable or as swift.
"And to those who do not participate?" Halo asked, stroking his beard.
"Unfortunately, they'll have no share," Caron said smoothly. "Those who take the risk receive the rewards. Simple market logic. The thirsty man is the one who digs the well."
It was an investment, nothing more. If they wished for a share of the priceless treasures, they had to gamble their lives.
And these weren't ordinary treasures. These were artifacts of an ancient civilization—immeasurable wonders that could even reshape the balance of the continent.
At once, the multinational, multiracial commanders began calculating furiously.
If we want influence after the expedition... We must join.
Even one fragment of ancient technology could transform a kingdom.
This cannot be refused.
Even if it killed them, it was a cup they had to drink from.
And that desire wasn't limited to humans.
"Our dwarves will certainly join," one of the representatives said.
"The elves will be of aid," another declared.
"The beastkin adapt to any environment," a third added.
"And the brave orcs fear nothing!" another shouted.
The leaders of the other races raised their hands without hesitation, pledging their participation.
Caron smiled with deep satisfaction, then turned to Halo and asked, "Shall we wait and see, Commander? Personally, I look forward to it."
Caron had used a dragon to bait them, and even bewitched the Magic Tower Master. A sly grin tugged at his lips.
Halo watched him and shook his head slowly. He thought, If he were a merchant, he might have bought the entire continent. Do as you will.
And before he realized it, he was chuckling in amusement.
***
The Desertus Expedition Corps was founded, and of course, Caron was seated as its leader. It was an organization hastily put together, a temporary structure—but one that drew immediate frenzy.
"Here! Please accept the application of our Neon Kingdom! We will conscript every warship in our possession for this cause!" someone from the Neon Kingdom requested.
"Caron, our great boss! We're men of the same breed, aren't we? The Queen herself said that if we fail to secure a place in the expedition, I might as well die where I stand! Think of loyalty, and take us in! Who else belongs in that cursed northern sea if not pirates like us?" one of the pirates begged.
It was madness, pure and simple.
Representatives of each power came bearing gifts piled high in their arms, vying for Caron's attention.
"Ah, yes, just set those over there," Caron said smoothly. "They'll be well used for the expedition. Leo? You're keeping the list, right?"
"Of course," Leo replied.
"Write down every contribution—supplies, troops, all of it. That way we'll know who's truly serious about this expedition. Oh, and be sure to keep a few things for yourself," Caron instructed.
"Of course," Leo said.
"...You've already been doing that, haven't you?" Caron asked, narrowing his eyes.
"Of cou—well, I was just about to start," Leo answered.
Before long, a massive line stretched before the provisional barracks of the newly founded expedition corps. From the commander's chair, Caron sat with a deeply satisfied expression, surveying the scene.
Truly, nothing motivated men more reliably than treasure.
After some time had passed, the tent's door flung open, and a familiar figure appeared. It was a man who looked upon Caron with fondness—Fayle.
"Ahem. You've been working hard, my son," Fayle said warmly.
"Father! What brings you here?" Caron asked in surprise.
"Haha, even the Ducal Family of Leston must submit its application formally, must it not? I came as a representative—and to see my son's face as well," Fayle answered.
"Uncle, you've come," Leo said respectfully, bowing his head.
Fayle patted Leo's back gently and said, "Yes, Leo, you too have been working hard."
From his breast, Fayle drew out an "expedition application" and held it out to Caron. But Caron only stared at it with a bright smile and made no move to take it.
"Is something wrong?" Fayle asked.
"Well, not exactly," Caron said. "Father, do you see those stacks over there?"
"They all look like rare valuables," Fayle answered. "Surely you haven't been accepting bribes so openly?"
"Oh, come now, bribes? These are more like... deposits. Once someone pays a deposit like that, they won't go back on their word, will they? I learned this sort of thing from you, Father," Caron replied.
Whether those "deposits" would ever be returned after the expedition remained doubtful. No one had ever seen anything precious escape once it entered Caron's stomach.
"Well, if that's the case, I'm relieved," Fayle said. "Now then, will you accept our application?"
Caron flashed him a mischievous smile and replied, "Father... No, even the Ducal Family has to pay its deposit. Isn't fairness important?"
He was a man who extorted wealth shamelessly—even from family. In that sense, he was truly fair to all.
"I'll even give you a small discount," Caron said with a sly chuckle.
"Couldn't you... make an exception?" Fayle asked with a pained look. "With the naval port construction, our finances aren't exactly—"
"No, Father. That's the Ducal Family's problem, not mine," Caron said, shaking his head firmly.
And so, Caron Leston boldly reached into the purse of his own Ducal Family.