...Oliver took a deep breath, trying to steady the storm in his mind, and not think about Sir Bolton for now.
He thought hard to other important things.
His father's estate was vast, befitting the crowned prince of the kingdom. Luckily, he still remembered most of it.
He could already map it out in his head: the sprawling servant quarters, the dedicated living spaces for the numerous children, and the two grand mansions where his father's many wives resided.
Somewhere within these walls, the copy of that Seal—Solomon's seal, was left hidden, and he had mere hours to find it.
There was nothing anyone could do to stop what was coming. The kingdom's fate was already sealed, its fall unavoidable. But that didn't mean Oliver had to share the same fate. If he could get his hands on the copy seal of Solomon also known as the Alchemist's seal, he could change everything—not just for himself, but for Velma, and maybe, just maybe, for others who would otherwise be condemned to slavery.
The Somaran Empire's growth had been fueled by the power of Solomon's slave-branded seal. It was a tool of ultimate subjugation, initially used by the long dead King Solomon to control spiritual entities such as demons, bend them to his will, and even feed off their power.
But when the Somaran empire found it, things changed. Over the centuries, the empire had refined its use, chaining thousands of people under their will.
But what many did not know was that there had been one man, a great alchemist from the court of the Wise King, who had dared to challenge its dominion.
This Brilliant Alchemist had actually fallen in love with a demon. Unable to control his desire for her, and see her suffer under king Solomon's thumb, he did the unthinkable.
It took him many years, a great part of his life span, and the sacrifice of many many souls, but he finally did it.
In secret, he had forged another seal—one that could counter the effects of Solomon's. This had been his method of ensuring that his demon lover was free.
Unfortunately, that story had a different ending from what most believe to be the truth.
Though very few knew of its exact abilities, Oliver had learned from whispers in his past life that his father had acquired it and intended to use it as a bargaining chip with the Somaran Empire.
That bargaining chip had led to the Tyrell kingdom's downfall.
Of course how his father had gotten it was not knowledge he had access to.
And the only reason he even knew this much was because he had ensured that he had been seen as a very faithful, and non threatening slave in his past life.
Nobles filled with pride of their status and power would always run their mouths, as if boasting in front of him made them any bigger than they were.
At that time Oliver had kept quiet and absorbed all they gave as he was looking for a way to free himself.
Of course, in his previous life, it was said that this seal had been destroyed. But this time was different.
Oliver's father, Richie von Rich, sought to unify his kingdom with Somara by offering them the seal and sealing the agreement through marriage to a Somaran noblewoman.
On paper, it was a strategic move, one worthy of praise by a wise leader. In reality, it was an invitation to destruction. The Somaran Empire had never intended to merge peacefully; they had simply been biding their time.
They did not intend to spook Richie Von Rich, else they would lose their target.
Oliver clenched his fists. He had to find the alchemist's seal before midnight. If he didn't, he wouldn't just be failing himself—he'd be dooming his sister and forfeiting any chance of revenge against the empire.
His heart pounded as he rushed out of the balcony and through the banquet hall. Heads turned, murmurs spread, and then, as expected, came the scorn.
"Running off again, are you? Some things never change."
Oliver didn't even need to look to know who had spoken. Leston, one of his older stepbrothers, the eldest son of one of the more prominent wives. Leston had always despised him, seeing Oliver's former laziness as an insult to the family's noble bloodline.
Oliver didn't slow, didn't react. He had more pressing matters than engaging with Leston's pettiness. But ignoring him was perhaps the worst thing he could have done.
"Pathetic," Leston sneered. "The little demon snort acts high and mighty, yet flees at the first sign of conflict."
Laughter rippled across the table, fueling Leston's pride. Another sibling threw in a jab, making a show of mock sympathy. "Poor Oliver. Maybe he's realized he's just not cut out for this life."
Oliver did not blame them for the way they treated him.
In this world, bloodline and power was the most vital thing. But what really pissed off people was when a person of privilege was useless, a tag oliver wore like sweat on a runner in his past life.
Whether it was in governing, strategy, or even the cultivation of the ever growing thin Aether which his bloodline gave him an advantage in, Oliver was incompetent.
Then again, Oliver could care less about these boys. Their view of the works of the world was just too narrow. Oliver hurried on his way.
Leston, however, was not about to let him go so easily. Seeing Oliver disregard his insult only deepened his irritation. His jaw tightened, and he abruptly stood, the legs of his chair scraping against the polished marble floor. "Tch. Looks like someone needs to be reminded of his place."
A few of his siblings snickered. Emboldened, Leston moved to follow Oliver, intent on teaching him a lesson, a habit he had.
Oliver, sensing the growing threat behind him, exhaled sharply. He didn't have time for this. He needed to act fast, to outmaneuver the sure to come threat.
Right now, every step, every moment, could bring him closer to the key that could change his fate—or seal it forever. Therefore...