While Callis and his companions settled into the Liovetus Manor, across the ravine, our attention shifts to the heart of the Kingdom.

The sacred halls of the Royal Castle's main spire constitute the most heavily guarded area in the mighty bastion. Constructed from materials known only to the Imperials, the tower surpasses any other man-made building globally. Even the renowned architects of Urbis cannot rival its immense size in their grand mausoleums and civic projects, nor can the engineering marvels of their capital, Ateldromos.

Only those of the purest Highborn blood are freely admitted into the structure, and even the guards must hail from a certified lineage to be stationed there.

While lower-ranking Highborn may enter, it requires permission from those of higher rank or participation in specific ceremonies on the lower floors of the Spire. Presently, our focus is on the upper levels of the structure, where the spire originates as a large dome in the middle of the castle before transforming its center into a towering, thin structure of unknown metal, dwarfing the surrounding structures significantly.

Clad in his customary black attire, Aemilianus Latens, prophet of the Ancient Magus, Arcane Chalearii, and leader of the Traditionalist Faction, strides through the hallways. Each step lengthens and quickens, progressing to almost a sprint.

Disregarding protocol and decorum, he turns sharply and forcefully opens a door, closing it behind him. The door leads precisely to his intended destination—Heres Aspis's study.

-Something has changed... it finally happened,- he declares with a frantic zeal, a stark departure from his usual calm and dulcet tone. -I can feel it in the air. It surfaced again. I thought that brat Canes had recovered every single piece, but somebody used one of his Spell Formulas... one of my master’s, I mean.- His half-panicked, half-elated state makes him appear younger than his actual age, with eyes wide open almost to their fullest extent.

-It's time to act. We need to get our hands on whatever was the source. I've sent the Inquisitors and Saxum to collect the origin of the ancient Spell Formula,- Aemilianus explains, pacing around the luxurious room and leaving bootprints on the thick carpet.

Aspis, standing near the window overlooking the inner courtyard of the castle, observes the Arcane Chalearii in silence. Her expression remains neutral as she is taken aback by his abrupt entrance into her office.

-Soon we will be one step closer to our goal,- the frantic Chalearii exclaims, having kept this excitement bottled up until reaching the office, knowing it to be a safe space to shed the facade of wisdom and poise and reveal his true self.

However, Aspis does not seem to share the same fervor as Aemilianus.

She walked silently from the window towards Aemilianus, gently grabbing his hand to stop him from moving, then looked at the Arcanist directly in his eyes.

And then, she slapped him.

Not a courtesy slap or an attempt to get his attention. It was a full-force slap, as hard as she could manage.

Aemilianus stopped dead in his tracks, unable to believe what had just transpired.

An awkward silence engulfed the room before she broke it by speaking, her words filled with disgust and dripping with poison.

-Our goal? Closer to OUR goal?- She asked with a shrill, almost demented voice, clearly not expecting a reply.

She slapped him again, even harder.

-You are a rat, a rat disguised as a Chalearii, but you will always be a rat. So, shut the hell up, or I will throw you back to the gutter I found you in.- Aspis's voice cut deeper than blades.

-If it weren't for me, you would've died, covered in filth and dirt, like the rest of you lowborn trash should.- Her words shredded the confidence and euphoria Aemilianus had when he entered, exposing his lies like a festering wound.

He attempted to talk back, but she silenced him with another swift and even harder slap, a backhand that cut his cheek thanks to the bejeweled rings on Aspis's slender fingers.

-You don't talk back to me, gutter rat,- she angrily interrupted him. -You will talk when I allow it, you will only act when permitted, and you will only attack when I order!- She stood in front of him, glaring down at his now hunched form, after the last slap had opened a scarlet line of pain across his cheek.

-Now I'm ordering you to obtain the source of this arcane incident you mentioned, but only if it serves my goals. There are no common goals between us. You don't have or deserve goals; you should be content with being alive and serving me, who will become the Rex of this Kingdom.- Her green eyes gleamed dangerously as she spoke, a venomous glare fixed on Aemilianus, who was now cowering.

-Do you understand?- she asked, venom dripping from her every word.

Aemilianus stood there in silence, visibly shaken.

Aspis raised her hand and began summoning Vis towards one of her Cibus rings, the very one that had cut Aemilianus’ cheek.

The Arcane Chalearii stared at the ring in panic and quickly dropped to his knees.

-I understand, Heres Aspis. It won’t happen again,- he pleaded, his face almost parallel with the heavy carpet.

-Now leave, before you test my patience again, gutter rat.- She kicked him on the side as she snapped at him.

Aemilianus left the room without lifting his face. Anger, boiling inside him, surfaced through his eyes, and he didn't want to give this petty and egotistical princess any more reasons to punish him.

As he exited the office and closed the door, his face became a mask of wrath—a contorted rictus of burning emotion that could have struck fear into anyone who witnessed it.