OLD-WORLD EXTRA-Chapter 529: An Invitation

Emir gave him a lazy salute and turned for the door, stepping into the hallway.

His mind automatically shifted back to the next task waiting on his mental list, deciding where to go.

Heading to the tenth floor, he walked the silent halls, scaring away the few students that remained and entered the elevator.

Once he reached the tenth floor, he strode through the hall, stopping just before a door that adorned a sign displaying his name.

The door slid open, revealing his office, and he found his 'hands' waiting for him, both watching him with expectant looks.

Ragnar was seated in one of the chairs, leaning back, relaxed, while Lyra stood behind the desk, her back on the glass wall, unknowingly posing better than any model could.

"Finally! Took you long enough."

The Viking-like man straightened.

"So, how'd it go?!"

Lyra just gave her prince a half-smile.

"Yeah, you look... roughed up."

Emir grinned, passed her and slid into his chair.

"Had a little more fun than planned."

"Define 'fun.""

Lyra's mood dimmed further, sensing there was more.

Emir casually raised both hands, revealing his palms.

"Judas tried to kill me. And he succeeded... or so he thought. I timed it so that his attack was at the same time of the gathering."

Ragnar's eyes practically popped out.

"Wait-you're serious? That inbred bastard really tried to kill you? Again?!"

"Surprised?"

Emir smirked.

"It isn't much of a big deal, expect more of it. Judas knows he can try to kill me all he likes, there are no consequences."

Lyra's reaction was more muted, but still displaying the same level of worry.

"Just be careful okay? Judas isn't someone we can predict."

"Of course Ly, you know me... Anyways, I need you both to start preparing. We need to haul ass to Mars next."

Lyra blinked, while Ragnar turned speechless.

"...Mars? Why Mars?"

Emir chuckled at their reactions.

"One of the chess pieces wants a Holy Relic, and guess where it's stashed? Mars. We've got to go steal it."

Lyra gave him a quizzical look, repeating:

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"Steal it?"

Emir nodded, shrugging.

"Steal. I'm promised three thousand Veez, and a little extra depending on the cost, so we could outright buy it from the auction, but we'd be wasting our Veez if we did that. I'd much rather use the Veez for myself, the guy's gonna get his Holy Relic either way, so win-win." Lyra's lips curved in a small, excited smile.

"Guess you'll finally see my home planet."

Emir's face softened and he smiled back.

"Yeah, guess I will."

Ragnar cleared his throat, loudly.

"Ahem! Hate to break up the moment, but in case you forgot-I'm still here."

They silently looked at him, making him even more annoyed.

"And why the fuck are you talking about this as if were going to the corner store?! It's Mars! A different planet for fuck's sake!"

After staring at him for a while, they looked away, ignoring him, and shared a laugh.

Ragnar clicked his tongue while shaking his head, enjoying his time even when he was the

butt of the joke.

But as Emir set his terminal on the desk, their expressions turned serious.

They knew what was coming was the real kicker.

臺□□□□□ □□□□ □ □□□

A hologram flickered to life above the terminal, displaying strange runes, written in blood.

"What's that?... Runes?"

Ragnar leaned in, curiosity overtaking his every other emotion.

Emir didn't answer right away, just studied the blood-red symbols floating in the air.

"...Saw these behind Bijeli's body."

Lyra squinted, attempting to read them.

"Do they mean anything?"

Emir nodded.

"It's... an invitation."

Ragnar raised an eyebrow.

"Who's calling for a conversation after an assassination?"

Emir drummed his fingers against the desk.

"Could be Purple, right? Except... it doesn't fit her style. She's more into indirect games."

"So, who then?"

Rangar asked, tilting his head, and Lyra sighed, figuring out the answer just after she heard

the meaning.

"It's obvious. Isidore."

Ragnar's eyes widened, stunned into silence for a moment.

"...Isidore? The head of the Ebonfyres?"

Emir nodded a second time.

"He's the one helping Purple pull her strings, the one who ordered Bijeli's hit. I don't know what he wants to talk about, but it has to be something major... he might've already figured

out our little kidnapping stunt."

"I still don't like that by the way, she's just a kid."

Emir rolled his eyes at Ragnar's words, causing him to scoff and look away.

"Either way, Isidore doesn't sound like the type who'd want to chat."

Lyra shrugged.

"No, he's not. But he's arrogant. Thinks we'll come crawling if he throws us a bone."

Emir looked back at the runes and chuckled.

"Yeah... but that's fine by me. I'm not here to stroke my pride. If Isidore wants to talk, I'll go

talk."

Lyra frowned, clearly uneasy.

"But what if he knows about you two?... What then?"

Ragnar's face fell, but Emir remained composed, his eyes looking straight ahead.

"Nothing. We can only accept and move on... But I don't think he did. I don't put my trust in

anybody."

Embarrassed at the subtle compliment, Ragnar's cheeks flushed a little, and he scratched the

back of his head.

"Y-Yeah, no way he got anything out of my brain! It's under lock and key I tell you."

Lyra giggled, and walked away, heading to the training room, where three Aether Cores sat on

the ground, waiting to be used.

"It's 'cause there's nothing there."

Joining her in laughter, Emir stood, stretching his arms out.

"Alright, alright, enough talk. Let's not waste any more time."

Ragnar cracked his knuckles and followed behind him.

"That's what I like to hear!"

...

Time passed, and just before midnight, Emir's terminal buzzed to life with an incoming

message.

He checked it: Amon.

{Isidore's ready. Here's the link.}

{Thanks.}

Emir replied, then quickly stood up and walked out without disturbing Ragnar or Lyra who

were deeply immersed in their cultivation.

Reaching his neural cybernetic interface, Emir laid on its bed-like frame and connected the

wires to the base of his neck.

Once he was fully relaxed, the machine automatically turned on, connecting to his neural network.

Now, his body was no longer physically active; as he blinked into virtual reality.

It worked similarly to the NeuroLink headset, though without that... unusual catchphrase.

His eyes were met with a white space that housed several menu-like options on the side.

His 'Icon' moved and clicked on an image that dropped down a list of others.

The last option was labeled {Link Invite.}

Emir copied over the link from Amon and blinked once more.

When he opened his eyes, he found himself in a dark, metallic room, standing on a podium

surrounded by darkness.

Across from him, faint light illuminated one man, his black hair slicked back, eyes like obsidian, with an intimidating stillness that could make most people freeze.

There was no questioning it, this man before him was Isidore.