The Saphirelake Military Academy announced new changes for the start of the second semester. For one, the Saphirelake Military Academy would change into a place that accepted prodigies of the entire Tritan Alliance. This was a means to strengthen the Tritan Alliance’s internal bonds encompassing various races and grow stronger as one entity.
At least, that was what the official thread claimed. However, the truth was that the Saphirelake Military Academy turned into the playground of the Tritan Alliance because of Michael. It felt weird to think like that but it was true. The people, races and organizations around Michael changed gradually, slowly adapting to him.
There were various other changes Michael caused by stating that he would stay in the Saphirelake Military Academy until he graduated. Tens of thousands of transfer applications reached the management department of the Saphirelike Military Academy, followed by heavy donations and various unique offers that the Saphirelake Military Academy’s administration couldn’t reject.
Even young core disciples of the Great Clans and highly talented rookies of the strongest Guilds decided to apply to the Saphirelake Military Academy.
At first glance, it seemed like everyone wanted to transfer to the Saphirelake Military Academy because of Michael, but that was not the sole reason. Since the Descendants and Heirs of the biggest households and organizations suddenly wanted to get admitted there, everyone else followed suit.
Why? Wasn’t the reason obvious?
Everyone desired to socialize and establish a clique, or group, to trade the goods they procured in the Origin Expanse. Establishing a large group with hundreds of Descendants was everyone’s goal, allowing the Descendants and Heirs to procure the ingredients and materials they required rapidly. No matter how rare certain materials and ingredients would be, having a group of hundreds of powerhouses to trade with would solve the material scarcity in the blink of an eye.
Michael understood that he could save lots of trouble by pursuing the same. He could create a group with Lincoln, Zeke, Kaleb, Frederik, Jacqueline, Maria, and maybe even Alice, to trade goods on a daily basis. However, Michael had a much better trump card up his sleeve; The Bartholomew Corporation.
He considered creating his own organization where he would sell Neutral Soul Techniques, the Soul Energy Fusion technique, Soultraits, and a wide variety of other goods that could only be procured in the Untamed Jungle, but he quickly realized that establishing a trading firm required too much time, effort, and experience. Michael was inexperienced and he couldn’t spare time, and effort in administrative tasks either. Therefore, he decided to turn the Bartholomew Corporation into his playground, to a certain degree, at least.
‘I will use my unique products to elevate the Bartholomew Corporation to new heights and the Bartholomew Corporation will help me obtain whatever I need. Win-win.’
That was Michael’s plan, and it seemed to work decently fine. The Bartholomew Corporation wished to leave no stone unturned to reveal and advertise the Soultrait Symbol Auction all over the Tritan Alliance. Simultaneously, Kraft Viton had initiated the establishment of the Soul Technique Department, a facility that was fully focused on mass-producing the Soul Energy Fusion, and Neutral Soul Techniques. Kraft Viton was still searching for trusted workers with suitable Soultraits and techniques to mass-produce the Soul Energy Fusion techniques flawlessly, but it was only a matter of time before the mass production would start. By the time the products rolled out in the shops all over the Tritan Alliance’s lands, Michael should have finished creating several Neutral Common Soul Techniques.
For now, Michael had to deal with other things. Kraft Viton was good enough at his job to leave him be. On the contrary, Michael had yet to start one of the most important tasks as a Lord. He was about to accept the first Humans, Berserkers, and Warlock Centaurs into his territory.
Obviously, Michael wouldn’t allow some random strangers to barge into his territory. Hence, he held a meeting for all Awakened who desired to join his territory as his subordinates.
The meeting was held in one of the large ancient halls in the center of the ancient city. Michael received permission to use the hall for the meeting as it played a vital role in the future of Michael’s territory, and the relationship between Humans, Berserkers, and Warlock Centaurs. The only condition Michael had to fulfill in exchange for the permission to use one of the ancient halls was…to allow a representative of each race to attend it.
Michael was against this, at first, but later could see where the War Priestess and the Chieftain were coming from. None of the Berserkers and Warlock Centaurs who openly revealed their willingness to join Michael’s territory had been subordinates to another Lord before. Forget becoming the subordinate of a human Lord, they hadn’t even considered obeying the commands of other young Berserkers and Warlock Centaur in their lives. Hence, becoming a human’s subordinate was an alien concept for the young Berserkers and Warlock Centaurs. Only tomes about the ancient history of the Berserkers revealed snippets of something similar happening in the distant past. .
At the end of the day, Michael agreed that it was better to give a representative of each Race the chance to convey possible issues. It might cause some scuffles but the long-term results would be far better. With that in mind, the meeting was held the next day.
“First of all, I want to greet everyone to the meeting. As you all might know, this little meeting is being held to determine whether you guys are suitable to become my subordinates, and if I meet your expectations as your potential Lord,” Michael started the meeting with a rather simple introduction, “Let me present myself once again. I’m Michael Fang, I will turn 19 years old in a few weeks, and I’m a Tier-3 Lord at the Lowest rank.”
Michael’s vibrant golden eyes traveled through the large ancient hall once he finished his introduction. He observed the reaction of the Adventurers around him and raised an eyebrow.
More than a hundred Adventurers were present, most of them being Warlock Centaurs and Berserkers. This was not unexpected for Michael since they were currently in the ancient capital of the Warlock Centaurs and Berserkers. The humans that managed to reach the ancient capital were all participants of the Flag War, and most probably either Descendants or prodigies who’d been picked up and trained by other households.
“Dimitriv Ruchco, Lamia Lumia, Yves Welt….” Michael listed out a total of 31 Awakened, the vast majority being human Descendants, before his gaze stopped on Kaleb Zenovia, “…and Kaleb Zenovia. Everyone I called out just now…leave before I add you to my blacklist!”
A commotion rang through the ancient hall. Even the War Priestess raised her eyebrow. Four of the names Michael had just mentioned were Warlock Centaurs.
A young Descendant, probably around Michael’s age, leaped up and pointed at Michael.
“Why the hell should we leave? We cleared our schedule to attend in this idiotic meeting. I showed you more than enough respect. How about you learn from me, and everyone else, instead of acting like an all-mighty little child?!”
Following the example of their short-tempered friend, a bunch of Descendants leaped up and complained as well. However, that was all they did.
‘Barking dogs don’t bite. What an apt saying!’ Michael thought, observing the barking Descendants. They pointed fingers at him and raised their voices, but the words escaping their lips were nothing but hot air.
Michael shook his head, a light chuckle escaping his lips. As he observed the Awakened participating in the meeting, he noticed something that made him call out a bunch of them. First of all, the majority of the names he’d called out were disinterested. They were clearly not interested in becoming Michael’s subordinates. There was no reason for them to be at this meeting if they didn’t even want to listen to his words.
Meanwhile, other participants were Lords. Lords couldn’t become the subordinates of other Lords. Their powers as Lords would clash, slowly destroying each other, or consuming the weaker Lord. That meant these participants were not here to become his subordinates either. On the other hand, there were also Heirs and a bunch of highly talented Descendants, the most talented children of their families. Obviously, their families wouldn’t want them to become Michael’s subordinates either.
A single glance was all Michael needed to pinpoint those who were unwilling to become his subordinates from the vast crowd in the jam-packed hall. Most of them were humans, and their intention to attend in the conference was quite obvious. They were trying to get closer to him in the private setting of the meeting.
“If I blacklist you and your families, neither of you will be able to purchase Soultraits, or Soul Techniques. I mean…if you don’t care about getting blacklisted feel free to stay. I won’t take responsibility for your families’ reactions though. That’s your headache, not mine.” Michael scoffed. He cursed silently in his heart. Why the hell were they even here if they were not interested in becoming his subordinates? Was he an entertainment program or what?
Some Descendants cursed, whereas others frowned. Nonetheless, they got up from their chairs and headed to the door to depart. No matter how confident they were in their family’s influence, they couldn’t afford to get blacklisted from purchasing Soul Techniques and Soultraits. Their families would execute them publicly to pacify Michael and revoke their names from the blacklist.
The thought alone was enough to make them shudder. They hurriedly left the ancient hall without a backward glance.
This included a few Berserkers and Warlock Centaurs who weren’t actually interested in becoming Michael’s subordinates. All they desired was the power Michael could grant them through customized Soul Techniques and Soultraits.
As the number of Awakened in the room decreased, Michael diverted his concentrate to Kaleb, who didn’t move an inch.
“Me too?” Kaleb asked, staring at Michael with puppy eyes, his lips turning downward.
“Isn’t that obvious!” Michael asked, pointing to the door. “Go!”
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