Chapter 393: Glee And Pity
(First Elder’s POV, Planet Tithia)
The First Elder’s reaction mirrored that of the Twelfth when he found out that their recovery team had proven so utterly incompetent.
"This failure severely damages our chances of making Leo Skyshard the next Dragon. If Aegon Veyr manages to reach the Transcendent Tier in the coming weeks, just before the annual summit on Planet FrostBurn, then the Fourth Elder will push with everything he has to name him Dragon on the spot..." the First Elder mused, slowly stroking his aged gray beard.
"To be fair to Leo, this wasn’t his fault. Any reasonable Elder would see that.
But on the other hand... a deal is a deal. I can’t go back on my word unless I have a justifiable reason, one the other Elders will accept," he reasoned, as he began to pace agitatedly around his office.
For a while, he tried to think of a way out of this mess, but nothing promising came to mind just yet.
"Well... forget it. I’ll deal with this after a proper one-on-one sit-down with the boy once he arrives on Tithia," the First Elder concluded, deciding to let the matter rest for now, since Leo was set to arrive on Tithia in a few hours anyways.
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(Meanwhile, The Fourth Elder’s POV, Planet Tithia)
Loud laughing noises could be heard from within the Fourth Elder’s private office, as he read through the heist report with watery eyes and a chest heaving from amusement.
He simply could not believe how grossly incompetent the Twelfth Elder’s team had proven to be.
"Why bother with making plans to destroy your opponents, when your opponents are stupid fools who are busy destroying themselves?" he said between fits of laughter, slamming the parchment against his desk as he wiped the tears from his cheeks.
"To think that brat Leo actually trusted the young and green Twelfth to keep his end of the bargain," he chuckled again, shaking his head with mock sympathy. "Poor boy... If only you were under me. This mission would’ve been executed to perfection. The scroll would be within the cult’s fold by now, and your rise would’ve been inevitable."
He stood and walked toward the wide window of his chamber, gazing out at the horizon with a gleam in his eye.
"But alas... fate has other plans," he whispered, a slow smile curving across his lips. "With this, nothing stands in Veyr’s way now. The path to becoming the next Dragon is clear."
His tone grew deeper, laced with ambition as his thoughts raced ahead.
"And once Veyr becomes Dragon... it will be me, not that old Lord First, who controls a Dragon.
It will be me, who will hold sway over the Council!
Me, who will be the youngest Elder to challenge for the First Seat." He said as he turned and strode back to his desk, retrieving a crystal communicator from within.
"Tell Veyr to push like hell for the next two weeks and reach the Transcendent Tier anyhow.
Tell him that we will provide him with all the help he needs, but he just needs to reach the Transcendent Tier in the next two weeks and the title of Dragon is surely his," The Fourth Elder said, as he informed his assistant to relay his message to Veyr.
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(Meanwhile onboard the Cult Ship, Leo’s POV)
The next 24 hours passed very smoothly for Leo aboard the Cult Ship, as he did little more than eat, sleep, and unwind.
Every few hours, a fresh delicacy would arrive for him, with the dishes ranging from a steaming bowl of savory stew to an intricately plated dessert that looked almost too pretty to eat.
The chefs onboard seemed to be pulling out all the stops, doing everything in their power to appease his palate and gain his approval.
The ship crew served him in rotating shifts, each team arriving with the same practiced politeness and quiet reverence. Yet, despite the change in faces, a strange pattern began to emerge.
Every single server who entered his room, regardless of gender, age, or rank, was wrapped in a faint blue aura that Leo recognized from the codex as the color of ’Joy and Hope’.
It was a visible manifestation of their inner spirit, a reflection of how much faith they placed in him, as if they genuinely believed he was the one who would lead them to a better future.
On one hand, it wasn’t the first time Leo had found himself at the center of blind adoration.
During his time as ’TheBoss’, when he led ’The Uprising’, every guild member under him had more or less looked at him in the same way. However, the circumstances back then were different. That role, that image, that burden—they were all chosen by him as he had willingly stepped into it.
But this time, he did not.
And that distinction, subtle as it may seem, made all the difference to him.
As when the hopeful gazes of the staff fell on him unwarranted, it made him uncomfortable.
He wasn’t used to people smiling at him like he was the light at the end of a tunnel.
He didn’t see himself as a beacon of hope. He never had.
Messiahs, saviors, champions of the people—those titles were meant for someone else. Someone nobler. Someone who genuinely believed in ideals like peace, unity, or the so-called greater good.
But not him.
He was not one such individual.
He wasn’t a leader. He wasn’t a symbol. He wasn’t a legend in the making.
At his core, he was just another ruthless warrior. A survivor. A man who had walked through blood and fire. An incredibly selfish one at that, who cared for little beyond his own strength and the safety of his family.
So when he looked at these people and watched their eyes light up with gratitude for him simply being alive and existing as if they were basking in the presence of destiny itself, all he could feel for them was pity.
Pity, that of all people, they had chosen someone as selfish as him to be their savior.
Because sooner or later, they were going to realize that the man they had pinned their dreams on was not the person they believed him to be.
"Well, it gives me no joy to disappoint innocent people," Leo mused, leaning back in his bed as the aroma of fresh pastries wafted through the air, "but I’m not the one who told them I was their messiah."
He shrugged his shoulders and exhaled slowly, letting the weight of their misplaced faith roll off his back like water off stone.
If they were looking for a hero, they would have to find one somewhere else.
For he was simply not interested in carrying their hopes and dreams.
As he strongly believed that it was not his burden to bear.
*Knock*
*Knock*
Just as he began enjoying his pastry, a soft knock on the door interrupted his thoughts, as Landen the guard on his door popped his head in, waiting for permission to speak.
"Go on..." Leo said, as Landen gave him a curt salute before saying.
"We will enter Planet Tithia’s atmosphere in 20 minutes, so please call for me before that to come clear your food plates, My Lord, I wouldn’t want landing turbulence to soil your robes," Landen said innocently, however, his words pricked at Leo.
"Planet Tithia?" He asked, sounding confused, as he could swear that the planet he was told his family was being held at was one called ’Vorthas’.