Gathering Wives with a System Chapter 509 Secrets Of Mistborns, An Ascender

Several Minutes Ago.

Silence blanketed the Lords' Meeting Room.

The only sounds within the immense hall originated from the livestream displays suspended above the circular table. Light flickered across the Lords' faces as their attention was fixed on the ongoing battle within the Great Dungeon.

For several moments, no one uttered a word.

Even the Third Priest, typically indifferent to matters beyond the World Tree, observed the screen with a sharp gaze.

"Lady Emily appears to be a Royal from a formidable Apex Species," Lord Sisyphus stated eventually.

Isaac offered a slight smile upon hearing this.

Lady Emily.

The fact that they had all spontaneously begun referring to Emily with such respect already indicated their conclusions. None of them now believed Emily was merely an Apex species.

They were convinced she was a Royal.

In many respects, such a status held greater significance than the species itself.

Long ago, entire races boasted Apex-rank bloodlines. These races stood superior to low, mid, and high-rank species, much like nobility outranked commoners. Their numbers were fewer, but their individual might was terrifying.

Yet, even among those Apex races, another tier existed.

[Royal].

Royals possessed the purest lineage within their species. They were the inheritors, the rulers, and creatures born with an innate authority woven into their very being.

"I appreciate your compliments, but Emily merely wields a potent artifact," Isaac replied with feigned modesty.

Lord Qizhal immediately countered, shaking his head.

"Even with a powerful artifact, this level of taming prowess is extraordinary. I would surmise the artifact has limitations. Perhaps probability thresholds, affinity requirements, or compatibility stipulations." His vibrant feathers rustled as he leaned forward, intrigued. "The fact that her taming attempts are consistently successful indicates an exceptionally high affinity with it. The likelihood of her being a Royal is substantial."

An air of awkwardness settled over the room afterward.

Several Lords directed peculiar glances at Lord Qizhal.

While his assessment was accurate, openly dissecting another's private matters in such a manner was still considered impolite.

This was particularly true during a political assembly.

Lord Qizhal suddenly stiffened, his eyes widening.

"Ah. My apologies, Lord Isaac." He cleared his throat sheepishly. "I had no intention of prying into Lady Emily's background. As a Beast Tamer myself, I was simply captivated by someone of her caliber."

"I understand," Isaac responded with a smile.

Lord Qizhal visibly relaxed.

Among the Lords present, he was one of the youngest, surpassed only by Isaac himself. His species, the [Seven Color Qil], resembled immense avian creatures adorned with striking seven-hued plumage and elongated triple tails. Even in repose, a faint, iridescent light emanated from his form.

The majority of the forces under his command specialized in beast taming and summon warfare, making Emily's existence a source of fascination for him above all others.

The instant Isaac displayed no sign of displeasure, Lord Qizhal resumed speaking.

"Did Lady Emily consistently display this affinity, or did it manifest later? Ah, and her summons—"

"Lord," a weary voice interjected from behind him.

Lord Qizhal disregarded the voice and continued.

Yelen sighed, rubbing her forehead.

The tall minotaur woman standing behind Qizhal appeared thoroughly accustomed to such situations.

Ordinarily, she would have intervened to prevent her Lord from further embarrassing himself, but Emily's abilities were simply too astonishing for someone like Qizhal. Yelen understood that any attempt to halt him now would be futile.

For a Lord who was a Beast Tamer, Emily represented something akin to a living legend.

She silently resolved to overlook his behavior on this occasion.

The other Lords shifted their focus back to the livestreams.

Although several teams were still engaged in combat within the Great Dungeon, the eyes of all present continually strayed toward Isaac's contingent.

Emily alone was sufficient to challenge conventional understanding.

However, Alice was emerging as an entirely different concern.

Initially, the Lords had deemed her exceptional solely for being a Saintess. Later, they discovered her dragon bloodline, which already set her apart.

Nevertheless, the current engagement was revealing something else entirely.

Something beyond their comprehension.

"I believed Saintess Alice was still an Adept. How is she already capable of Dragon Transformation?" Lord Fafnir mused, his gaze fixed on the screen.

Isaac merely offered a quiet smile.

He had no intention of providing an explanation.

On the monitor, the battle against the Mistborns persisted.

Alice moved with unnerving swiftness across the battlefield, dragon scales intermittently appearing on her body as golden flames enveloped her strikes. The Mistborns retaliated with coordinated assaults from multiple vectors, forcing her to retreat several times.

Isaac's brows gradually knitted together as he witnessed Alice sustain an injury.

The wound could certainly be mended, yet he found himself disliking the sight of her injured.

Not moments later, Emily unleashed a fierce retaliation on Alice's behalf, dominating several Mistborns with her sheer power. However, Alice herself quickly intervened, halting Emily's momentum. Alice reasoned that there was no need for anger, as everyone was merely competing with utmost seriousness.

Isaac fully grasped Alice's perspective.

Nevertheless, Isaac shared Emily's sentiment. He abhorred witnessing Alice, or any member of his family, suffer harm.

The Mistborn combatants had acted according to sound strategy. Their objective was to neutralize the most significant threat first, aiming to eliminate her before her power could escalate uncontrollably.

It was unequivocally the correct tactical maneuver.

Alice stepped in, preventing them from reaching Emily. The subsequent clash resulted in her sustaining injuries.

All of it was perfectly normal within the context of a competition.

Still, Isaac loathed it.

A quiet realization began to dawn in his mind.

'I truly am becoming excessively fixated on my wives.'

His attention drifted towards the Lord of Mists.

Bella.

He would refrain from openly displaying his anger. Only the foolish would act in such a manner, and Alice would certainly disapprove. Instead, he would orchestrate a depletion of their resources.

Previously, Professor Catherine had furnished him with intelligence concerning every Lord participating in the gathering. Isaac had initially planned to leverage this information later, gradually cultivating relationships and goodwill.

Now, his intentions had shifted.

However, given that the Mistborns had initiated hostilities against him—even if their actions were tactically sound and pursued their own advantage—it only seemed fitting that Isaac would exact retribution for his own satisfaction and gain.

As if sensing his scrutiny, Bella suddenly addressed him.

"I trust Lord Isaac is not harboring resentment regarding the ambushes. It is a competition, after all. Everyone comprehends the potential danger Lady Emily poses if left unchecked. As our objective was victory, targeting her initially was simply the logical course of action," she stated with composure.

"Lord Bella needs no cause for explanation. Naturally, I understand. Competitions are indeed meant to be contested with full seriousness." Isaac offered a cordial smile.

The surrounding Lords observed their exchange with quiet attention.

Bella's composure was remarkably steady, as expected.

Her team had just endured a significant defeat against a group ranked Adept, yet she maintained a dignified and graceful demeanor. She even initiated the conversation to preemptively defuse any brewing conflict.

Such a high level of political acumen was characteristic of an experienced Lord.

Concurrently, Isaac's reaction struck observers as equally perilous.

The majority of young Lords would have exhibited at least subtle signs of displeasure. Others might have vocally professed indifference while betraying their irritation through their expressions.

Isaac revealed absolutely nothing.

This very fact instilled a greater sense of caution in several individuals.

One who had ascended so rapidly, gathering formidable individuals like Emily and Alice, could not possibly be naive.

Most likely, he was merely adept at concealing his true intentions.

Bella herself seemed to recognize this.

Her gaze briefly settled upon Isaac before she slowly rose from her levitating chair.

"Pray, excuse me. I must confer with my subordinates. They ought to have returned to the entrance by this time," she announced.

The Mistborn contingent had already been eliminated from the Great Dungeon. Their reappearance at the entrance was imminent.

"I shall accompany you," Isaac responded, rising to his feet as well.

Numerous eyes immediately fixed upon the pair.

Bella paused momentarily before replying with a gentle tone, "You are exceedingly courteous, Lord Isaac."

"It would be quite impolite of me not to offer," Isaac countered.

Bella emitted a soft chuckle upon hearing this and continued to glide alongside him.

The two departed the assembly room, entering the more tranquil, elongated corridors beyond. The atmosphere here was notably calmer than within the main hall. Guards stood at a distance, and servants occasionally passed by, yet none approached the two Lords.

For the initial few minutes, their discourse remained light and superficial.

Bella commented on the remaining tournament contenders, while Isaac offered brief remarks on the performance of various squads. Neither directly revisited the matter of the ambush.

At a certain juncture during their progression, Isaac subtly activated his Mirror Dimension.

A translucent ripple expanded through the corridor, creating no apparent disruption. Space seemed to fold inward, subtly isolating the immediate vicinity from the external world.

Bella detected the change instantly but offered no resistance.

Her voice retained its even tone as she continued floating beside Isaac, as if no alteration had occurred.

Only after several more moments did she finally turn her gaze towards him.

"So, might I inquire as to why Lord Isaac has deployed a Mirror Dimension? Are you truly harboring such profound displeasure regarding the ambushes?", Bella asked casually.

"Scarcely."

Isaac let out a soft chuckle and inclined his head.

"My intention was actually to broach the subject of a potential partnership with Lord Bella. Given that the matter involves a somewhat delicate topic, I deemed a private setting to be more appropriate."

"A partnership?"

Her gaze held a hint of curiosity.

The pair continued their journey through the hushed corridor within the secluded dimension.

"A partnership of what kind?" she inquired.

"I once recalled a narrative concerning the Mistborns. Many millennia ago, when the Apocalypse swept across the land, a Great One met their demise in battle," he stated, deflecting the question.

Bella absorbed his words in silence.

"Upon their death, it is said that miracles manifested around their remains. Their very veins transformed into Ley Lines. Their body became the Mourning Frost Mountains. Their blood incinerated the White Parasitic Tree forests in the north and east, forging what is now known as the Endless Nightmare Desert. And their final exhalation... coalesced into a cyclone."

Isaac directed his attention to Bella as he spoke with an unhurried tone.

"That cyclone persists to this day. It harbors immense power. Annually, nascent winds are generated from it. These winds possess sentience and eventually evolve into Mistborns. The cyclone mothers them, offering protection. It shielded them prior to the advent of Steam Suits, and it continues to guard them now."

"Indeed. That chronicle is widely known amongst our people," Bella responded after a moment of contemplation. The veracity of the legend concerning the Great One remained uncertain for many.

However, the existence of the cyclone itself was undeniable.

It was referred to as the [Breath of Life].

Each year, during the initial month, new Mistborns emerged from its vortex. Those born on the same day shared a sibling bond, irrespective of their standing or potency.

The prevailing faith within Mistborns' City was deeply entwined with the cyclone.

A significant number of them espoused the belief that death was not an ultimate end. They maintained that their consciousness did not simply vanish into the ether but rather rejoined the Breath of Life, awaiting eventual rebirth.

Reincarnation.

An endless cycle of return.

Isaac abruptly halted his advance.

"It is not true," he declared calmly.

Bella experienced a slight pause.

"The cyclone is not some hallowed miracle born from a deceased Great One. It is an Ascender." Isaac gradually turned his gaze towards her. For the first time since departing the meeting chamber, Bella's composure faltered.

"A formidable Ascender is safeguarding the [Ten Thousand Life Ginseng] concealed within the cyclone. The plant itself possesses vitality and awareness. The Mistborns are birthed from its very essence," he concluded.

Silence descended upon the corridor.

Bella ceased all movement.

Her eyes locked onto Isaac, evident shock etched on her face.

That particular secret formed the bedrock of the Mistborn tribe's identity.

Only the reigning Lord of each epoch held the complete truth regarding the Breath of Life.

Even among the esteemed Mistborn officials, knowledge of the Ascender or the Ten Thousand Life Ginseng was virtually non-existent.

Yet, Isaac spoke of it with such nonchalance.

As though he had personally witnessed it.

"How..." Bella's voice softened slightly. "Where did you obtain such information?"

"I possess my own channels." Isaac offered a subtle smile.

Bella continued to regard him, her silence profound.

A torrent of thoughts surged through her mind.

Ascenders were beings of extraordinary caliber.

They were entities who had successfully navigated the Tower of Heaven and Hell after conquering formidable Great Dungeons. That tower—an immense pillar of light visible from every corner of the globe—was revered even by the Lords.

Few individuals possessed the capacity to enter it.

Fewer still emerged alive.

Each Ascender was a legendary figure, capable of single-handedly altering the destiny of entire Cities.

The Emperor of Florathi himself was an Ascender.