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Herta Space Station.
Asta paced back and forth, glancing around nervously.
Her fair palms were faintly damp as she muttered to herself, "Today is quite a test. I have to carry myself with Miss Herta's elegance."
According to Miss Herta's instructions, several distinguished guests would be visiting today.
A few collaborative partners of equal genius to Miss Herta—old friends to her, yes—but the finer points of hospitality could not be neglected.
More importantly, there was the super Emanator, Sol Mercer, who had stirred the winds and clouds in Penacony. A terrifying powerhouse trending across the Interastral Network, a figure as scorching and undeniable as the sun itself.
The only thing that comforted Asta somewhat was that Topaz would be accompanying Sol.
Once one of the Ten Stonehearts of the IPC, now subordinate to that great individual, responsible for delivering the company's "tribute" to Herta Space Station.
Tribute, they called it—but from what she knew, it was compensation after being beaten painfully enough.
Topaz was an old acquaintance. Every time she came to the station, a large sum of Credits would vanish from Asta's card. Even though the number would be replenished by her family the next instant, she still felt that subtle anxiety one feels toward a creditor.
This time, however, things were different. According to Miss Herta, they were now the creditors.
All because Miss Herta had taken a trip to Penacony, and that Emanator had transferred an enormous corporate debt to Herta Space Station!
Asta proudly lifted her small chest.
This was Miss Herta—her greatness needed no explanation.
Even an Emanator who defeated other Emanators must bow before Miss Herta's world-shaking wisdom!
"Hey, young lady, what are you thinking about?"
Big Herta stepped lightly out of the void and gently patted Asta's shoulder, her tone expectant. "Sol has already arrived at the platform. Come with me to receive him."
"Yes, Miss Herta!"
Asta snapped back to attention, hesitating slightly. "I don't think… I'm quite suitable to meet Lord Sol directly…"
She was merely the station master responsible for managing funds. It hardly seemed appropriate for her to formally meet someone who conversed with Emanators on equal footing.
Today, Miss Herta's true body would personally greet him—and she even seemed in exceptionally high spirits. Anticipation, perhaps?
For Asta, this was grand beyond measure.
"Relax. Sol is quite gentle," Big Herta yawned, encouraging her. "And Asta, you should regard yourself as more important."
"Hm?"
Asta pondered this, as if realizing something. "Mm."
Regard herself as more important?
It seemed that great individual was quite short on funds as well.
Herta Space Station. Docking Platform.
Beside the anchor point established by the Astral Express, two figures suddenly appeared.
"In an instant, crossing several galaxies, ignoring countless barriers. What a convenient ability."
"An Aeon standing at the crest of their Path is nearly equivalent to the rules themselves."
"They bring transformation and possess boundless glory."
Sol gazed at the anchor point, faintly emotional.
Even after disappearing for many years, the seed Akivili left behind was still so powerful that even he—on the verge of Aeonhood—could not fully comprehend it.
A single rank's difference created a gulf as vast as heaven and earth.
When he first arrived in this universe, he had been trapped in a desolate star system. Only after asking Nous for directions had he managed to leave.
Those so-called strongest beneath the Aeons—even throne-level Emanators—were, in essence, still quite weak.
They were merely extensions of an Aeon's power, beings granted authority over a Path.
Only Emanators of Erudition were special—because their intelligence was genuinely extraordinary. Even without Path authority, they would still be formidable.
Topaz's thoughts stirred. Her pretty face carried respect and deference. "The Aeon of Trailblaze connected the worlds and made communication possible, giving rise to today's flourishing universe."
"The achievements of the Aeons are beyond doubt. And your extinguishing the revival of Order in Penacony was a feat of magnificent proportions."
The revival of an Aeon could have sparked a war sweeping across the cosmos.
She could not help but admire her current boss—a figure as legendary as Louis Fleming, founder of the Interastral Peace Corporation. His depth of power was immeasurable.
Though Sol had been amiable before, the vast disparity in rank still pressed heavily upon her. She had to tread carefully.
"Topaz, I think I'm starting to like you."
Sol looked at her obedient demeanor, momentarily dazed.
This former Ten Stoneheart, who could collect debts from entire planets without blinking, now stood before him nearly on edge.
Only at this moment did he truly glimpse a trace of the loneliness that came with being strong.
He was willing to bear that loneliness—he enjoyed the respect of an elite beauty.
But he could never indulge in it forever. He had no desire to erect some tragic, impenetrable wall between himself and Nicole, Anby, Billy, and the others. That would be far too dull.
He even found himself understanding Aha a little. Perhaps the mischievous days aboard the Astral Express with Akivili had been Aha's happiest times—memories that lingered eternally.
Topaz exhaled softly, smiling. "As long as you're pleased."
This was the adult world—one must read the boss's mood.
She gently touched the Warp Trotter in her arms, thinking that perhaps their days ahead would not be so difficult.
Sometimes, she too wished she could be carefree like Numby, pampered without worry.
Though, of course, that required a good master like herself.
"Mm~"
Sol turned back, glancing at the slightly restrained Topaz.
He could almost smell the office-worker anxiety—the draft beast trembling before a ruthless boss over a pitiful wage.
Honestly, he preferred the more confident Topaz—the one who could declare "Buy it" in the face of anything.
After a moment's thought, Sol patted her shoulder. "Relax. Be more confident. Don't treat me as your boss—just think of me as your leader."
"Let's see how you perform recently. If it's satisfactory, your department and Jade's will be reorganized into a new company. We'll become partners instead."
"Mm. That's the plan."
Casually tossing out such a carrot, Sol realized he might have some talent for being a black-hearted boss after all.
Well—perhaps not.
A truly black-hearted boss would want to turn draft beasts into slaves, not elevate them to senior partners.
His moral standards were still far too high.
"Would that really be appropriate?"
Topaz unconsciously tightened her grip on Numby, joy and hesitation mingling as she cautiously observed his expression. "We are, after all… your spoils of war. Rest assured, we will absolutely devote ourselves to completing your tasks."
Even the Ten Stonehearts of the IPC were, in essence, bound by a high-level contract of servitude, heavily restricted.
Aventurine's plan had failed, nearly resulting in a political marriage. Now he was temporarily Shajin.
If not for Sol's mercy, Shajin might already be drenched in sweat beneath some burly man.
She and Jade were luckier—but they dared not hope recklessly.
"There's no need to see it that way."
"You two…" Sol paused, thinking of Aventurine, and corrected himself. "The company's compensation has been paid in full. I brought you and Aventurine over because I'm interested."
"And aside from Aventurine being an explicit captive, you and Jade can hold a higher status—something akin to retainers or vassals."
"Such a position, I imagine, is far higher than what you had at the company. At the very least, I will never hand over what belongs to me to any enemy."
In truth, if Aventurine hadn't insisted on posturing before him and stirring up trouble in Penacony, Sol wouldn't have particularly cared about his captive status.
It was the price Aventurine paid for treating everyone as chess pieces.
"I see."
Understanding dawned on Topaz, excitement flickering in her eyes. "You're right! By your side, our status far surpasses that at the company. You are as great as Louis Fleming himself!"
Emanators varied in stature. Some could be slain; others achieved deeds that even Aeons regarded seriously.
Like Zandar, who created an Aeon while walking the path to becoming one.
Or Louis Fleming—though he did not worship Qlipoth, his immense personal capability and objective contributions to Preservation earned him Qlipoth's strongest blessing.
They were Thrones—the mightiest beneath the Aeons.
There was no doubt: Sol was likewise a Throne.
So, it was her talent that had caught the eye of a Throne.
How—
Topaz's heart trembled, her expression momentarily dazed.
What an honor.
She wanted to cheer, to shout in exultation.
Sol's greatness required no further words.
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