Alphonse's booming laugh made Vrischil frown. She stared at Alphonse with a highly questioning look.
"What is the matter with you, Alphonse?" Vrischil asked, wanting to know what information Alphonse had obtained that made him laugh so boisterously.
On the wooden bed, Arcus's head appeared to shift slightly. The sulking young man slowly lifted his head. He peeked from behind his pillow with one eye. Alphonse's triumphant laugh had piqued his curiosity.
Slowly, Alphonse calmed his laughter. He regulated his breathing once more, then turned to look at Vrischil with a wide smile radiating ambition.
"There is nothing wrong, Vrischil," Alphonse answered with glinting eyes. "I just confirmed a crucial fact. The 3 Emperors and the 10 Kings in the game... not a single one of them descended in this first wave alongside me."
Hearing that incredibly crucial information, Vrischil was stunned. Her upright back leaned slightly forward. "Truly?"
"Yes," Alphonse nodded firmly, confirming the fall of a massive burden from their shoulders. "We are currently inside a Golden Time moment. Our golden era. There is not a single Player across this entire world who holds a Phantasmal Item other than myself. Without the presence of those ruling monsters to hinder us in this early phase, we no longer need to be afraid to bare our fangs openly to the entire continent."
While speaking, Alphonse reached his right hand into the folds of his cloak. When he pulled it out, a galactic crystal emitting starlight glowed in his palm. The cosmic glow of Stella Obscura reflected beautifully in his golden irises.
He gazed at the artifact with a look full of calculation.
"I must admit, this Phantasmal Item of ours was indeed not designed to cleave mountains or boil oceans in a single swing," Alphonse said, evaluating his own relic. "If we are forced into a frontal clash against another ruler, we are clearly at a disadvantageous position."
His eyes narrowed cunningly, radiating the aura of a thinker who is always one step ahead. "However... a world filled with intrigue is not won merely by crossing swords like barbarians."
Alphonse turned toward the bed.
"Besides, possessing massive destructive power is no guarantee of safety," Alphonse said, intentionally provoking. "Even the strongest Player can fall pitifully merely due to a small carelessness. Isn't that right, Arcus? The Sagittarius who was once utterly slaughtered by a Support."
Those sharp words were like pressing the trigger button of a bomb.
Arcus instantly leaped up from the bed, throwing his pillow to the floor. His face was flushed crimson, a combination of unbearable embarrassment and exploding anger.
"Whaaat!!!! You're still bringing that up?! You bastard!" Arcus roared, his index finger pointing right at Alphonse's face.
Receiving that fierce reaction, Alphonse merely shrugged his shoulders slowly, putting on an incredibly annoying, innocent expression. "Facts sometimes do hurt."
Arcus ground his teeth, the veins in his neck bulging as he held back his emotions.
"I've told you thousands of times!" Arcus argued with a booming voice. "You cannot equate an Emperor carrying a Phantasmal Item simply with the title of 'a Support'!"
"Well, even though he was indeed an Emperor and possessed a Phantasmal Item..." Alphonse replied in a casual tone, twirling Stella Obscura in his palm as if it were merely a glass toy. "The Game System still categorized his Job under the Support class classification."
Arcus fell silent. His mouth gaped wide, trying to find the right words of rebuttal, yet not a single sentence managed to escape his mouth. The young man could only stand stiffly, pointing at Alphonse with a hand trembling holding back annoyance.
Seeing her teammate run out of words, Vrischil chimed in with a piercingly cold tone.
"Besides, deciding to face the ability of the Hanging Man's Cross head-on was an incredibly foolish move," Vrischil commented without mercy.
She shifted her gaze, staring straight at Arcus. "The moment that cross is summoned, even a fighter with a Zodiac Unique Job would be crucified upside down and forcefully silenced, unable to do anything."
Arcus's hand subconsciously raised and moved to rub his stomach and chest. His muscles tensed slightly, as if the pain from the knife stabs in his past throbbed again piercing his skin simply from hearing that explanation.
Ignoring the brief trauma his friend was experiencing, Alphonse smirked cynically again, enjoying the nostalgic moment.
"A highly entertaining past," Alphonse said, adding salt to the wound. "The video recording of that fight even became the number one trending topic on the internet for weeks. Just imagine it... a Zodiac, hung upside down helplessly, then stabbed slowly using an ordinary knife by a skinny man wearing a Pope's robe. Meanwhile, the Zodiac could do nothing but grimace and wait for his HP to drain drop by drop."
Arcus's face, which was already red, now turned almost the color of a tomato.
Running out of all arguments and unable to bear the embarrassment of his greatest disgrace being laid bare before his eyes once more, he chose to surrender. Arcus dropped himself back onto the bed with a thud. He turned his body face-down, then pulled the pillow to cover his entire head.
The atmosphere inside the inn room slowly returned to calm. Arcus did not move on the bed, drowning himself behind his pillow to escape reality.
Ignoring his sulking friend, Alphonse shifted his gaze, staring at Vrischil seriously.
"We are going to leave Wealden," Alphonse said calmly, breaking the silence with a final decision. "And we will also leave the territory of the Pexora Kingdom as quickly as possible."
Hearing a direction completely opposite to her analysis earlier, Vrischil widened her emerald eyes slightly. She lost her composure for a moment.
"Why?" Vrischil asked, her tone of voice implying confusion. "Is this not an incredibly good opportunity to occupy the power vacuum? You could step in and become the new Tower Master in this city as an initial stepping stone."
Alphonse shook his head slowly. He leaned back in his chair, his eyes radiating a sharp determination piercing the shadows of the room.
"I do not wish to spend my precious time merely sitting idly as a Tower Master in a border city," he said in a heavy tone.
Alphonse paused his sentence for a moment, staring straight ahead, as if his gaze pierced the inn's walls and saw the expanse of the continent outside. "I will become a King... no, an Emperor."
Hearing that declaration, which sounded arrogant yet spoken with absolute conviction.
Vrischil's lips slowly pulled upwards, forming a gentle curve. Her eyes also softened, radiating a warmth that instantly melted the Elf's cold aura. For a moment, the cold mask she always wore cracked, revealing a truly mesmerizing charm.
Alphonse was stunned. His gaze locked tightly onto the curve of that smile. His brain, which always spun rapidly processing information, suddenly stopped working. He forgot to draw breath for a few seconds, transfixed in place like an ordinary man bewitched by beauty.
"I would be highly disappointed if you agreed to my plan to become a Tower Master," Vrischil said. Her tone of voice softened, yet she still maintained an elegant firmness.
The Elf rested her chin on one hand, staring at Alphonse with a look difficult to interpret.
"A man must possess ambition as high as the sky," she continued. "Because there is nothing more attractive than a man who possesses a grand plan and the ambition to realize it."
Vrischil tilted her head slightly, looking straight into Alphonse's golden eyes. "So, what is your next move... Emperor?"
Addressed by that title, Alphonse immediately cleared his throat softly. He averted his gaze briefly toward the window, looking at the quiet streets of Wealden City to calm his heartbeat, which had suddenly begun racing irregularly.
Regaining his breathing rhythm, Alphonse shifted his posture, leaning further forward.
"From the intelligence gathering we conducted during our stay in Wealden City, the Pexora Kingdom is classified as a relatively peaceful and prosperous kingdom," Alphonse began presenting his analysis with a smoothly flowing voice. "Invading a peaceful kingdom openly will only ruin my reputation in the eyes of the denizens of this continent. Their stability is our obstacle. The citizens of Pexora would certainly rebel fiercely against me if I occupied the throne through bloody means like an invader."
He slipped Stella Obscura back into his cloak, extinguishing the galactic light in his palm.
"Whereas if we choose the path of shadows—bribing officials or inciting rebel factions—that would take an incredibly long time," Alphonse continued, removing the slow option from his desk. "I do not even know if rebel factions truly exist in a kingdom this peaceful. Spending years weaving plots behind the scenes does not align with our Golden Time moment. We are racing against time before other Players realize the situation of this world."
Alphonse crossed his arms over his chest. "The only possible peaceful way to take over Pexora is to marry a princess and place her on the throne as a puppet queen," he added with a soft snort, as if the idea were amusing to him. "However, that is absolutely not what I desire. So, we give up on Pexora. The world of Orion is vast, there are still many other kingdoms."
Vrischil nodded slowly, entirely agreeing with Alphonse's mindset.
"A good analysis," Vrischil praised objectively. "A good reputation is far more valuable than a pile of gold coins."
"Correct. To utilize this Golden Time moment as best as possible, we must build an empire in the shortest time possible," Alphonse explained.
A faint smirk laden with dangerous intrigue formed on his lips.
"We will not enter as invaders," Alphonse stated softly yet sharply. "We will be the Saviors, the Avengers, and the Liberators."
The Akashic Sovereign stood up from his chair, walked slowly toward the inn room window, and gazed far beyond the city walls.
"We will look for another kingdom," Alphonse concluded, setting the direction of the Pioneer Guild's next move.
"We will look for a perfect stage for a revolution. There, we will lead a rebellion of oppressed, impoverished, and starving commoners to fight against the king and the tyranny of nobles from a corrupt kingdom."
His golden eyes glinted under the lamplight, filled with cold calculations that would dictate the fate of millions of lives.
"And this coup d'état plan will become a stage far more perfect..." Alphonse turned back to look at Vrischil, his smile widening. "...if that corrupt kingdom happens to possess abundant natural resources."