"Anthicheg," in ancient pance, signifies "the cradle of ancient mes."


    This is also the name of the imperial pce throughout the ages.


    This colossal pce, situated at the zenith of the imperial capital, the City of Celestia, ceaselessly burns with a fierce, crimson fire.


    When the subjects of the empire gaze up at the pce from within the city, it is as if they are worshiping a second sun.


    Tap, tap, tap —


    The crisp sound of footsteps echoed within the dwelling of the supreme monarch.


    A woman, her crimson robe trailing on the ground, her hem resembling the burning mes, bowed her head slightly, humbly greeting the figure in the depths of the pce, amidst the roaring blood mes: "Mother, good day."


    Came the aged voice of a woman from within the mes, "I did not permit you to enter and exit my pce at will."


    The blood mes red up, seemingly agitated by the figure''s impatience and annoyance.


    The corners of Elder Princess Evora of mefeast''s mouth lifted slightly. Maintaining the bare minimum of decorum, beneath her slender, deep red eyebrows, her eyes were filled with unmistakable arrogance.


    "As your sessor," she lightly shook her long sleeves, sparks of blood-red mes igniting at the cuffs, "it is my duty to be concerned about your condition at all times. "


    "Moreover, I have news that you care deeply about."


    This elder princess, whose prestige was gradually umting among the empire''s upper echelons, extended a hand, a me ignited in her palm, and an image crystal appeared out of thin air.


    "A president of an adventurer''s guild from the western region has recorded the debut performance of the first pact head of that young Ansel of Hydral."


    The image crystal projected the image into the air. In this semi-transparent image, a young girl raised her fist, the image of Hydral shattering a massive monster was crystal clear.


    The blood mes in the depths of the pce seemed to burn even more fiercely, the somewhat thin figure within the mes moved, casting a gaze that seemed capable of incinerating even the air.


    "Two... rings," the aged empress murmured.


    "Seraphina Marlowe, a nobody from a frontier vige."


    Evora, supporting her arm, looked at the image with astonishment in her eyes. "Although she has studied in the Frost Tower and has shown remarkable talent, there is nothing truly worth betting heavily on."


    A me flower flickered in her eyes as she murmured:


    "Only he discovered the talent of this country girl and went to such great lengths to cultivate her—"


    Before Elder Princess could finish her sentence, a piercingughter suddenly echoed in the spacious pce.


    "Hehehe... Hahahaha!"


    A joyous… somewhat manicughter.


    Evora was startled, the previouslyposed her instinctively took a step back.


    For a figure emerged from the roaring blood mes. As she stepped out of the bed of mes, strands of fire wrapped around her body, instantly weaving a dazzlingly beautiful robe. The "fabric" of the robe, with itsplex patterns, glowed with a flowing red light, like rollingva.


    "One person bearing the power of two pact heads."


    The empress''s face, though lined with many wrinkles and appearing to be in her sixties, still hinted at her extraordinary beauty in her youth.


    "Evora."


    The seemingly decrepit old woman took a step, and with each step, the temperature in the pce rose a notch, and blood-red me flowers spontaneously ignited in the surrounding space.


    The empress looked at Evora, her gaze as contemptuous as if she were not looking at her own daughter.


    "Young girl, you have no idea what this means."


    The princess pulled at the corner of her mouth, slightly bowed in salute, "Then, may I ask you to enlighten me?"


    The empress, who had be increasingly tyrannical towards the end of her reign, seemed to be in a good mood at this moment. She strolled to the entrance of the pce and said:


    "It means..."


    Ephesande of mefeast came to the entrance of the pce, bathed in sunlight, and murmured joyously to the point of trembling:


    "The abyss... is in his palm."


    Today, the City of Celestia did not wee the night.


    For this city, symbolizing the eternal greatness of the empire, a second sun was ignited.


    *


    "Miss Ziegler!"


    Within the Babel Institute, a man of decent appearance trailed behind a stern woman, d in a whiteb coat, her ponytail tied high. He continued to tter, "Regarding yourtest design, I wish to represent the Duke of Gray Tower..."


    "Please maintain a distance of more than ten meters from me."


    The woman walked forward without a sideways nce. Despite her brisk pace, there was no sense of hurry. "For your safety and the cleanliness of my attire, thank you."


    The man''s expression stiffened. Recalling the terrifying rumors about this genius of Babel, his heart was filled with hesitation. However, thinking of the task he bore, he gritted his teeth and forced himself to calm down.


    "I have something that will certainly interest you, about the pact head of Hydral..."


    Thud.


    Something was pressed against the man''s face. Feeling the cylindrical shape on his cheek, the man broke out in a cold sweat.


    The second generation of Ether Floating Turret, Hummingbird.


    A revolutionary product of alchemical weaponry. When everyone thought that the genius sorceress Ravenna, who designed the "firearms", was disheartened after the failure of the first generation of floating turrets, this renowned prodigy, after a long silence,unched its second generationst year. With an overwhelming posture, she defeated seventeen challengers from the Ether Institute.


    No one doubted Ravenna''s talent anymore. She was surrounded by praise and glory, bathed in countless radiance.


    But Miss Ziegler, who was expected to win theurel of the sage within ten years, seemed to be forever displeased. No matter when and where, her expression was always as cold as ice, as if all the glory she had received had nothing to do with her.


    "HYDRAL''S P-A-C-T H-E-A-D."


    Ravenna, who was pressing the floating turret barrel against the man''s head, was expressionless. "When did this happen, and how authentic is it?"


    -->