(Planet Ixtal, Soron’s Castle)
Leo approached Soron’s castle with measured, restrained steps, his pace slower than it needed to be as his gaze lingered on the ancient wooden doors looming before him, their surface darkened by age and weather, as he found himself wondering whether he should knock and wait like a guest seeking permission, or simply push them open and step inside as he felt was appropriate for the vice sect master of the Cult.
’Hmm... what should I do?’
He wondered, as for a brief moment, he stopped to consider both options.
’As the Cult’s number 2 man, I shouldn’t need to wait to see the Sect Master, however, if there’s anyone in this universe who deserves my genuine reverence and respect, it’s Soron.
So out of respect for his seniority, I should probably wait...’
Leo thought, as after a few seconds of quiet deliberation, he exhaled softly and chose restraint, as he lifted his fist with the intention of knocking rather than forcing his way through—
However, before his fists could ever hit the door, the doors creaked open on their own, heavy wood parting without resistance as though anticipating his arrival, while a presence pressed outward from within, vast and unmistakable.
"Come in... Shadow Dragon,"
Soron’s voice echoed from deeper inside the castle, calm yet layered with authority, as he addressed Leo by his official title rather than his name.
Leo paused for half a heartbeat, then smiled faintly, as lowering his hand, he stepped forward into the castle, the doors closing behind him with a dull thud as the familiar scent of wet stone, copper, and medicinal herbs filled his senses, reminding him of the few times he had visited this castle with Charles before.
*Step*
*Step*
*Step*
As he stepped in deeper, he could sense the lingering presence of death in the air, as the atmosphere shifted subtly around him, the warmth of the brazier failing to mask the underlying stench of decay, as though something fundamental had withered here long ago and never truly left, its rot seeping into the very breath of the room.
*Sniff*
It was not the smell of blood.
Nor the sharpness of recent death.
It was older than that.
Stagnant. Exhausted. Final.
Leo’s jaw tightened slightly as he continued forward, his senses sharpening despite himself, as every instinct he possessed screamed that this was a place where life was being stubbornly defied rather than sustained, as if Soron’s body itself had become a battlefield between what should have already ended and what refused to yield.
*Step*
*Step*
As Leo entered the tea room, Soron noticed the worry on his face instantly, as his lips curved faintly, not quite as a smile, but as an acknowledgement of Leo’s concern, as his pale fingers lifted the teapot from the low table with measured care, the motion precise yet strained, as though even something as simple as pouring required deliberate control of his muscles now.
"Sit," Soron instructed calmly, as he gestured toward the stone seat opposite him, his voice steady despite the faint rasp beneath it.
"No need to stand so tensely. I am not going to collapse just yet."
He assured, as Leo did not reply immediately.
Instead, he moved as instructed, lowering himself onto the seat across from Soron, his posture straight, controlled, respectful, as his eyes never left the ancient God’s face, as he took in every hollowed contour and subtle tremor that Soron clearly believed he was hiding well enough.
*Tsss—*
Steam curled upward as Soron poured the tea, the liquid a deep amber laced with crushed leaves and faint glowing motes, as he set one cup before Leo before pouring another for himself, his hand pausing for just a fraction of a second longer than necessary.
As it was that mere pause that told Leo everything he needed to know.
Soron was not healthy, and his body had stopped obeying him like it ideally should.
"I have been waiting for you for a long time now...."
Soron said, as he lifted his own cup, his fingers tightening around the porcelain slightly, as though holding it looser would make him lose his grip.
*Slurp*
*Drinking sounds*
For a moment, neither spoke.
God and Shadow Dragon.
Overlord and successor.
The duo simply studied one another, as Leo realized with quiet certainty that the man before him was already standing with one foot firmly beyond the threshold of life, while Soron studied just how big of a monster Leo had become since the last time he had seen him.
"Your aura..... it’s greener than the greenest shade I’ve ever seen in my life.
You’re clinging on to life through sheer will alone.
Else you could have passed away yesterday...."
Leo observed, as he looked at Soron’s form and the clinging green aura around his body in shocked amazement.
He knew very well from experience, just how hard it was for a man to conjure green around their body, which was why he understood exactly how much Soron was suffering just to remain breathing at this moment considering how his green aura covered the entire tea room at this moment.
"You’re not wrong.... Skyshard, I really am at my limits now.
Which means, this next war is going to be my last one.
I have already accepted my fate.
I have nothing left to lose anymore and I will fight like a man with nothing left to lose.
My death is certain, and hence I will try to take as many Gods as possible with me to the afterlife."
Soron declared, as Leo listened to his words in calm contemplation before letting out a deep sigh.
After witnessing Soron’s condition first hand, he understood exactly how difficult it was for Soron to even breathe and move in his current state, which was why he did not expect the Great God to survive the next big war either.
However, what he did not want was for Soron to fall publicly before the entire universe.
Not only was he the symbol of the Cult’s pride and defiance throughout all the Cult’s tumultuous history.
But he was also the one being whose anger was the only deterrence that kept the Righteous Faction from eliminating every Cultist alive.
And hence, for the sake of future peace and long term stability.
It was important that Soron’s death never occurred in a public format.
"I understand your position, old man.... I really do.
However, I’m afraid I can’t allow you to die just yet.
Not publicly at least.
For here is what I intend to do—"
Leo began, as with a confident look on his face, started to explain his real plan to win this upcoming war and save Veyr.