Tales of the Endless Empire

Chapter 491: Negotiations

The former elven empire of Solan had shattered. Over the eras ,not all elves had joined his empire, and some had even abandoned it to start their own factions. Most of the time, those who left were among the stronger leaders—after all, going out on your own as a weak god was practically suicidal.Now, a new great elven faction was forming. All of Solan’s generals were already gone, with most of the weaker gods soon to follow. Many had already made their decision but still tried to benefit from Solan’s empire for as long as possible. A few gods would remain, but it was clear that the opposing elven faction would become their sworn enemy.

Ferniel, the White Rose, was a rather insignificant god in the vast elven empire. She had only ascended around five hundred years ago and had just gained her first Chosen in the new universe. Normally, such weakness granted a kind of immunity from political conflicts, since she simply wasn’t important enough to matter.

But that had changed.

Now she found herself dragged into meetings, threatened by other gods—and even worse, they had begun to target her Chosen.

Ricarda was, unfortunately, one of the weakest elven Chosen on the newly integrated planet. Ferniel worried about her constantly. Ricarda was her first chosen and already behind the others when it came to strength.

She had stopped observing her Chosen after Ricarda had gone out to free a few elves who had gotten themselves into trouble. While her Chosen was dealing with that, Ferniel had to attend yet another one of those terribly annoying meetings.

A teleport brought her to a planet at the edge of Solan’s empire. Its surface was a vast desert—something she thoroughly despised.

She appeared in an underground chamber where the other gods were already waiting.

Ferniel didn’t want to leave the empire. It had given her everything. And while she didn’t agree with everything Solan had done, it hardly justified this level of chaos.

Four other gods stood in the chamber. Ferniel had never seen them before, though she had heard of one—Tiragos the Slayer.

He stood in the center, a massive elf with a broad sword resting in one hand, his body packed with muscles. The others were women, only slightly above Ferniel’s rank.

“Finally, Ferniel. Now we can begin the discussion on how we will leave Solan’s empire behind,” Tiragos said in a deep voice, slamming his greatsword into the ground with a loud clang.

The others nodded, but Ferniel had to hold back a sigh. It was always the same.

As if she would trust something like that.

The meeting began, with each god boasting about their Chosen and their number of followers. Ferniel only had twenty-one, all of them in the new universe. There wasn’t much to brag about.

Then, in the middle of the discussion, a panicked message reached her.

Along with it came an image—one Ferniel recognized all too well.

Her focus immediately left the meeting as she tried to peer into the new universe. As a young god, her vision was weak. Even with the connection to her Chosen, she could barely see anything—just a vast blue ocean with a few black shapes that looked like ships.

Frustrated by her limitations, she sent back a reply.

“Go all out. If that fails, use the escape token.”

A short confirmation came back.

Around her, annoyed murmurs rose.

“Ferniel. Who are you talking to? Did you even listen to what I said?” Tiragos asked, irritation creeping into his voice.

“Oh—yes, everything is clear. I just received an important message,” Ferniel said, stumbling over her words as her mind raced.

She needed help. If the other gods ordered their Chosen to intervene, they might be able to capture Thalion.

But with the empire breaking apart, none of them would care.

And worse—she didn’t want to risk Ricarda’s life.

Solan’s daughter was definitely interested in Thalion. Maybe… maybe it was worth asking her instead.

The connection to her Chosen was still active—and things didn’t look good.

“Then tell me—what did I just say?” Tiragos asked, his killing intent beginning to rise. “I will not tolerate disrespect.”

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“Yes, of course… I just need to go. Something urgent,” Ferniel said before teleporting away.

As a fledgling goddess, she needed several jumps before reaching the planet where Solan’s daughter resided.

In its current state, the place was heavily guarded. Ferniel stopped just before the massive shield and sent a message inside.

“Uh… hello. I’m Ferniel. I… might be able to relay a message to Thalion… if that’s something you want…”

The stronger gods watching over this domain weren’t elves, but underlings of the Spider Queen’s daughter. Officially, they were allies—but Ferniel didn’t trust them. Their auras were drenched in bloodlust.

Now she would likely have to wait. But her Chosen didn’t have that kind of time. From what she could feel through the link, things weren’t going well.

Ferniel prayed that someone would respond within minutes.

To her surprise, the answer came instantly. A dark-scaled reptilian god appeared before her.

“I will teleport you. Keep your aura in check—there will be mortals present.”

His voice was as dark and sinister as the scales covering his body.

Her vision flickered, and the next moment she appeared in a vast hall—immediately dropping to her knees as she realized who stood before her.

In the garden ahead stood one of Solan’s avatars, alongside Nyssa’s. Behind them… the real body of their daughter.

The daughter moved toward her in a blur, using a movement skill.

“Oh, this is so interesting. You said you could relay a message to this Thalion?” Cassandra’s eyes gleamed with excitement, while Solan’s gaze twitched ever so slightly. Nyssa’s avatar also looked anything but friendly.

“Y-yes… just give me a moment,” Ferniel stammered as she reconnected with her Chosen.

“Ricarda—what’s happening?”

The answer came quickly. Too quickly.

“HELP—he’s killing me!”

“WHAT?! No, no—listen! Tell him we can make a deal. The Golden Lord is here too. Say the Golden Lord wants to speak with him!”

Ferniel wasn’t sure if Ricarda could even hear her through the pain.

“Can’t you form a proper illusion with sound?” Nyssa’s avatar asked, stepping closer. Ferniel instinctively recoiled.

“I—I—” Ferniel stammered, while through the connection she heard her Chosen’s broken cries as Thalion’s thorns pierced deeper into her flesh.

“Enough. This incompetence is unbearable. How long have you been a god? One would expect at least some control.”

Nyssa appeared in front of her in an instant and placed a hand on her head. Power surged through Ferniel’s body and a moment later, an illusion formed in the center of the room.

Hovering above a vast ocean stood Thalion, holding the elven Chosen by the neck. Red tendrils, streaked with gold, coiled around her body in a grip like steel.

“Wait—you said we could talk, but it looks like he’s about to kill her,” Nyssa said, tilting her head slightly, curiosity in her voice.

“Uh… I… I…” Ferniel stuttered as the pressure in the room grew heavier and both gods replaced their avatars with their true bodies.

“Wow… he really does look strong. Killing a Chosen this early without divine support,” Cassandra said, her eyes glowing with interest.

Solan’s expression twitched again—this time noticeably. Nyssa caught it immediately.

“What is it, Solan? I can tell when you’re hiding something.”

There was a brief pause before he gave in.

“…Fine. I suspect Thalion has a patron—just no visible divine blessing. It allowed him to gain advantages during the tutorial and the system event. I’ve already ordered the elves in the new universe to capture him and uncover that information. It could change everything for future eras… or system events.”

For a moment, all eyes were on Solan.

Meanwhile, Ferniel felt the life being crushed out of her Chosen.

“Well then, ask him if he has a patron,” Cassandra said casually. “But I hope he doesn't.”

Ferniel looked from one god to the next, her face pale, unable to process what she should do.

As the silence stretched, she finally gave the order.

Through the connection, she saw Thalion questioning Ricarda about the elven plans. Her Chosen staggered, barely conscious, and began to repeat the message instead.

“The Golden Lord wants to know if you have a patron… The Golden Lord wants to know if you have a patron…”

The human blinked, clearly confused.

“What? Are you stupid? I asked what the other elves were planning.”

To emphasize his point, he tore one of her arms off.

“Tell her to say she’ll explain everything later. Those Chosen will leave us anyway—there’s no reason to feel guilty about betraying them,” Nyssa said with a shrug.

Moments later, the message was repeated through the Chosen in the new universe.

“I’ll tell you everything later if you answer the questions. Please—please, not the other arm. I’m just relaying messages. It’s not my fault they’re telling me this stupid shit!”

The last words broke out of her in a desperate cry, tears streaming down her face.

That startled both mortals and gods alike.

“Well… so they really watching,” the human said, genuine surprise in his voice. “Then tell me—why should you be allowed to tell me the actual plans of the other Chosen?”

“Oh god, he’s going to kill her. What should I tell her to say?” Ferniel panicked, certain her Chosen was about to die. Only the sheer fear coursing through her gave her the strength to speak while the Nyssa still held her head in place.

“No, he won’t. Let her tell the truth about what happened in the integrated space,” Nyssa orderd.

For the next two minutes, they watched as the Chosen stumbled through her explanation, her voice shaking. With her patron trembling in fear, and her own life seemingly fading under the oppressive presence of the goddess holding Ferniel, the story came out broken and chaotic.

“So the elves are abandoning their former Golden Lord. Then why shouldn’t your patron do the same? Wouldn’t what he did be considered a betrayal to the entire race?”

“That’s actually a good question,” Nyssa added with a hiss. “Are you on our side—or are you leaving us?”

With every word, killing intent surged through Ferniel’s body. Without the goddess holding her upright, she would have collapsed.

“No—please, no. I’m on your side. I don’t want to leave. Please don’t kill me,” Ferniel begged.

“What’s happening over there? Why is this taking so long? Or are you lying to me? Then again… it’s not like elves to come up with such a wild story,” Thalion muttered, thinking out loud.

“My patron supports the Golden Lord… and could you please ease your grip a little…?” Ricarda stammered weakly. “ Also please tell us who your patron is.”

“You see, that’s the thing,” Thalion said calmly. “I’m not sure why I should tell you anything. I’m the one in control here. And the moment I kill you, the connection to the watching gods disappears. The other elven Chosen will still come after me—why wouldn’t they?”

He didn’t loosen his grip even slightly. Without proper compensation, he had no reason to speak.

“They say they can offer you information—about treasures on this world and where to find them, access to the best system trials in the universe, information about the Eclipsari… and me. Wait WHAT?!?”

With that last word, Ricarda turned even paler than before.

“Alright,” Thalion said after a brief pause, his tone measured. “Then feel free go ahead and explain everything.”