Izark and his eleven knights were more than just his subordinates; they were his comrades, his closest allies, bound by countless shared battles and unwavering loyalty. He relied on them the most during difficult times, trusting them with his life and the fate of the Gremory household. As everyone else filed out of the room, they dropped the act of pleasantries, their camaraderie allowing for more candid conversations.

  "Izark, you knew about this?" Raiser asked, breaking the silence that had settled over them. His voice held a note of suspicion, his eyes narrowing as he scrutinized Izark.

  "What do you mean, Raiser?" Izark responded, raising an eyebrow in genuine curiosity.

  "I mean when he was saying all those things. It was as if they were being dominated by his speech. What do you think? They didn't seem like themselves." Raiser explained, his tone laced with unease.

  "They didn't take the oath out of loyalty to the Gremory family. It was their greed for money that clouded their thoughts. But even so, no one is impulsive enough to throw away their freedom without some influence." Raiser said, his expression thoughtful.

  "It seems Duke Izark Gremory has relied on some underhanded methods. Well, what does that have to do with me? It's good they swore loyalty to the Gremory family." Raiser said dismissively, his demeanor shifting to one of pragmatic indifference. "I am leaving today for the family's planes. Morris, pack some of this wine. Goodbye."

  With that, Raiser turned on his heel and left the room, his departure marked by the soft swish of his cloak.

  "Say what you will, but that guy has a sharp mind. Hahaha..." Izark laughed, a deep, resonant sound that filled the room.

  "You're right, Master. Commander Raiser has always been quick-witted." Morris agreed, his admiration for Raiser evident in his voice.

  "So, you did do something." Raina said, coming to a realization, her eyes narrowing as she studied Izark more closely.

  "Miss Raina, it's only for the betterment of the Dukedom. What we should focus on right now is the young master's plan and his nurturing." Morris interjected, his tone pragmatic and measured.

  "Yes, Morris. I am thinking the same thing. Well, deliver him some books on the power system and other relevant topics. I'm sure he will surprise us. Let's get to work now." Raina said, her voice resolute.

  What Raina and Raiser didn't know was that, at Zain's suggestion, Izark had spent the remaining two and a half million gold coins to buy high-grade charm potions. He had mixed them into the wine to subtly meddle with their thought processes and make them swear a bloodline oath.

  As Zain had wisely remarked, "For the Duke to grow, the loyalty of his subjects must also grow. Otherwise, the Duke may never know when he might face the blade of betrayal." Izark thought it was only right.

  The wine had blurred their thought processes, leading them to make decisions in the heat of the moment. The wine alone was potent enough to make someone like Izark drunk, and the high-grade charm potion did the rest. Izark had waited for the perfect moment to act. All of them were already loyal to the Gremory family and wished for wealth. The wine and charm potion heightened these feelings a hundredfold, leading them to make a hasty decision they believed wholeheartedly.

  ---

  A week passed in the blink of an eye. The entire palace was bustling with activity, preparing for significant changes that would soon sweep through the Gremory Dukedom. Servants hurried through the halls, carrying messages and supplies, their faces etched with the excitement and tension of the impending transformations. The air was thick with the scent of freshly polished wood and the soft murmur of urgent conversations.

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  Zain, however, remained an island of calm amidst the storm of preparations. He lay on his bed, a book in hand, a huge pile of other books stacked nearby. The large windows of his chamber let in the gentle light of the morning sun, casting a serene glow over the room. These were the books Morris had delivered to him five days ago. Zain had gone through them several times, meticulously absorbing every detail to ensure he missed nothing. Now, he knows the basic power system of these planes.

  There were many professions in the Myriad Worlds, such as mages, warriors, assassins, marksmen, and necromancers. However, to have a universal scale of power, there was a set system for it. He marveled at the structure and order that defined the vast array of abilities and strengths.

  There were six realms, each with nine stages:

  First came the Acolyte Realm, where most common warriors and mages resided. They were the preparatory ranks. Although it was a significant achievement for commoners, they were just cannon fodder for those in the upper realms. These individuals, often marked by a rugged determination, filled the ranks of small armies and local militias, their skills honed through sheer willpower and necessity.

  Then came the Master Realm. They were considered elite troops of small nobles. In a big noble household, they were just better troops than common soldiers, often seen as the backbone of a noble's military might, their presence a reassuring symbol of competence and strength.

  After that was the Saint Realm. These individuals were the main forces of a family. They mostly held commanding positions in the army and were treated much better. They were regarded as elites, their prowess and leadership skills elevating them to positions of great influence and respect within their circles.

  Then came the Sage Realm. They were the core of the family. Even in the most prominent noble families, they numbered no more than fifty. They were reserved for significant missions and battles, so they rarely appeared. These figures were often cloaked in mystery, their movements and actions shrouded in secrecy, emerging only when their family's honor or survival was at stake.

  Next was the Mythic Realm. They represented power. Even Nobles must pay respects to them. They were found in powerful families. The Royal family of the Zinovia Empire would have only a couple of hundred at most. These were the heroes of legend, their names and deeds whispered with awe and reverence.

  Following this was the Apex Realm. Across the entire Miraz plane, there were only a few hundred of these individuals. They led planar wars and could decide battles with a single move. Their presence on the battlefield was like a force of nature, their mere presence shifting the tides of war.

  Beyond these realms were the Novas. You could count them on your hands. They were the protectors of the planes and only fought other Novas. They represented the strength of a plane, their power and influence extending across the very fabric of existence.

  A plane with a Nova was considered a primary plane, meaning it had enough resources to produce a Nova. Those without one were considered secondary. This distinction shaped the politics and alliances of the planes, determining their place in the grand hierarchy of the universe.

  The Miraz plane currently had thirteen Novas. The Zinovia Empire had three of them. The presence of so many Novas was for a reason—a bad one. The Miraz plane was at war with five primary planes, each having at least three Novas. These conflicts were titanic in scale, with each side wielding powers that could reshape worlds.

  The Novas of Miraz had shown their presence, which was why the primary planes were not attacking with full force. They didn't want the thirteen Novas to retaliate simultaneously. If all the attacking planes were to move together, the Miraz plane would be outnumbered. But this couldn't happen, as they couldn't contact each other—at least not for now.

  The Miraz plane was part of the Albion Alliance, which consisted of forty primary planes. Miraz was ranked first in power, but due to its forces being spread out because of wars, it was more or less equal to the other top five planes. This delicate balance of power kept the alliance in a state of cautious cooperation, each member mindful of their position and the potential for betrayal.

  The alliance had its main base on a plane called Oasis. This was where the meetings of the alliance took place. It wasn't restricted to meetings alone; it was a place where you could find anything you wanted, provided you offered the right price. The bustling markets of Oasis were filled with exotic goods and rare artifacts, their stalls manned by traders from every corner of the known universe.

  Oasis was a trading center for the forty powerful planes. Only the most powerful families of those planes could own land there. So, everyone present in Oasis was a big shot with the backing of a powerful family.