With a respectful bow, the team leader signalled to their companions, and together they carefully placed the mana crystal and the container of water on the desk before the king.
The door was shut behind them, leaving Riz alone in his office.
In the silence that enveloped the room, Riz's gaze fixed upon the treasures that now rested on his desk.
A mana crystal, luminous and captivating, accompanied by a container of pristine water.
The weight of this discovery settled upon him.
The resources that he held in his hands has unparalleled significance that could reshape the world.
A sense of excitement coursed through him, for he recognized the potential that this mana crystal held.
Yet, this exhilaration was balanced by the urgency to fully grasp the crystals in his hand.
The mana crystal was not just a mere object; it was a source of possibilities.
This crystal may spark technological advancements and redefine their society's trajectory.
"Let's not waste time. I need to move fast," Riz muttered. He was pretty sure the mana crystal deposits would attract the attention of neighbouring nations.
First and foremost, he needed to send the mana crystal and the water sample to the kingdom's laboratory for thorough analysis.
The secrets that these items held could them understand mana force better.
Additionally, Riz recognized the importance of securing the sinkhole, the doorway to the underground cavern.
He needed to delegate a portion of the kingdom's troops to guard the area, ensuring its safety and protecting it from any who might seek to extract those resources.
"What else do I need to do..." Riz mused aloud.
A realization dawned on him. "Oh yes," he muttered under his breath, a plan forming in his mind. "I need to contact Charlotte and order her to safeguard the resource from the shadows. I can't let news of this spread far and wide. Our agents must be ready to eliminate anyone who attempts to do so."
For now, he prefers to keep things under the wrap.
....
Thyrate, Barlia.
At the balcony of his office, bathed in the soft morning glow, a blonde-haired man stood gazing emptily over the tranquil river.
The sun's rays painted the world with a gentle warmth, casting a serene aura upon the landscape.
The river below sparkled like a ribbon of liquid gold, its calm surface mirroring the peaceful morning.
As he stood there, the morning silence was interrupted by a sharp knock on the door behind him.
He turned, his brooding gaze shifting from the river to the entrance of his office.
The door creaked open, revealing the figure of his butler, Harford Harper—a man known for his unwavering loyalty and discretion.
"Excuse me, Your Highness," Harford's voice was respectful, his tone carrying a hint of deference. He knew when to approach and when to maintain a respectful distance.
The prince sighed softly, his thoughts momentarily broken by the intrusion.
He turned fully to face Harford, his features easing into a more composed expression. "What is it, Harford?" he inquired, his voice a mixture of weariness and curiosity.
Harford stepped forward, his presence a steady anchor amidst the prince's detachment. The butler holding out a sealed envelope towards the prince.
"This is?" Prince Baldwin asked.
"A letter has arrived from the Ryntum, Your Highness," the butler informed.
The prince of Barlia accepted the envelope, his fingers brushing against the wax seal.
With another sigh, he broke the seal and unfolded the message, his eyes scanning the words.
As he read, his brow furrowed in concentration, the weight of the message momentarily pulling him from his reverie.
Harford watched the prince closely, his perceptive gaze capturing the subtle shifts in his demeanour.
He had served the royal family for years, and his understanding went beyond mere words.
"An invitation to the king of Ryntum's wedding?" The words spilled from Prince Baldwin's lips, a mixture of surprise and disbelief that echoed through the air.
The words hung there, suspended in the morning's stillness.
The message was unexpected, a twist of fate that both shocked the prince and left Harford momentarily taken aback.
The notion of an invitation from a not-so-distant adversary to an event like a wedding seemed odd considering their recent history.
Prince Baldwin's gaze lifted from the message to meet Harford's eyes. In that shared moment, both recognized the weight of the situation.
"This is absurd! What the hell is the King of Ryntum thinking?!" Harford's voice cut through the air, carrying a mix of incredulity and bewilderment.
Prince Baldwin's fingers tightened around the letter, his brow furrowed as he studied its contents once more. "Yeah, I thought the same. But look at this," he said, his voice tinged with a blend of intrigue and scepticism.
He extended the letter towards Harford, offering a glimpse of the words that had sparked this whirlwind of emotions.
Harford's gaze followed the prince's gesture, his eyes scanning the letter. "The sender was Josephine," Baldwin continued.
A thoughtful silence settled between them as they contemplated the implications. "Maybe she's writing without the knowledge of her stepson," Harford suggested.
The king of Ryntum, as gleaned from Blackout's information, wasn't known for his forgiving nature or easy kindness.
The notion of a sudden and dramatic shift in his disposition seemed implausible.
"What do you think, Harford?" Prince Baldwin's voice held a thread of uncertainty, his gaze searching for guidance in his butler's expression.
Harford's features remained composed, his thoughts carefully considered before he responded. "For your safety, Your Highness, I suggest you to not attend the wedding. It might be a trap," he advised with his words carrying the weight of caution.
Baldwin's expression darkened.
A diplomatic gesture from Ryntum could easily be a facade to lure him out.
"I thought so," Prince Baldwin nodded in agreement. The doubts that had lingered in his mind found validation in Harford's counsel. "Burn the letter, Harford," his tone carried a direct command, "And don't let anybody know about this."
He nodded in understanding, his commitment to discretion unwavering. "Understood, your highness," he replied, taking the letter with a careful hand.
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