Muria's overwhelming deterrent effect became glaringly apparent after he stationed himself at the Norman Defensive Line. The line, once a magnet for relentless attacks from the Heavenly Descendants, suddenly fell into an eerie calm.
While other defensive lines were embroiled in fiery battles, with the sounds of combat echoing through the skies and earth, Muria's line was silent—so quiet it made one drowsy.
This anomaly led the Empire to reconsider Muria's deployment. Keeping someone of his strategic significance anchored to one place seemed like a waste. The Empire began drafting orders to have him serve as a mobile force, responding to critical areas on the battlefield as needed.
However, before this draft was finalized, the Douglas family lodged a vehement protest.
"I am the head of the Douglas family. On behalf of my family, I solemnly warn you not to assign Gerlos Douglas any perilous orders. Otherwise, we will take extraordinary measures."
The head of the Douglas family struggled to suppress his rage upon hearing the Empire's intentions through discreet channels.
The family had sent Muria to the battlefield early, hoping that while he was still young and relatively inexperienced, he could gain some minimal exposure to warfare and then safely return to inherit the family legacy.
If Muria graduated from university and grew even stronger, he would likely be given even more critical—and dangerous—missions on the battlefield, possibly endangering his life.
Their plan, however, failed to account for Muria's actual combat capabilities. Nor had they anticipated the ambush he faced en route, which revealed his extraordinary strength.
Now, hearing that the Empire intended to give Muria a roving assignment on the battlefield, the Douglas family was furious. The family head immediately contacted the Empire to express their objections.
"Sir, please remain calm. We have not assigned your family member any tasks beyond his capabilities. All assignments are made based on ability," replied the Empire official with a calm expression.
"Don't feed me that nonsense! I've heard you're planning to make Gerlos roam the battlefield, responding to commands to support wherever needed. If that's not the most dangerous mission, then what is?"
The Douglas family head slammed his desk in rage, shedding his usual composure and resorting to shouting profanities.
"Our family sends you money and troops every year to support the fight against the Heavenly Descendants. Now, when one of our most important talents is sent to the battlefield to fulfill his duty, you're pushing him to the most lethal areas. What exactly are you playing at?"
"Sir, please understand, all assignments are made with the utmost reason—"
"Save it! Gerlos Douglas is a citizen of the Federation, not the Shimmering Silver Empire. If he receives such orders, I will immediately have him return to the Federation!"
"Sir, fighting the Heavenly Descendants is a duty and responsibility for all humans. Making Gerlos Douglas desert would tarnish his reputation irreparably."
"He is stationed at the Norman Defensive Line, fulfilling his duty as a human being. That does not mean you can treat him like a tool! He is not even 20 years old; he has a future ahead of him, not a battlefield to die on!"
"Sir, you misunderstand us. According to our calculations, Gerlos has less than a 10% chance of dying on the battlefield, and most of that risk comes from potential involvement by an Alien King."
"Hah! But if he follows your orders, that risk will increase to 90%. The Heavenly Descendants won't hesitate to target him specifically!"
"You can rest assured, sir. We monitor every Alien King in real time. Any movement from them would be detected immediately."
"Alien Kings are practically divine beings. Do you really think your monitoring is reliable?" The family head sneered. "As I said, if you dare issue dangerous orders to my family member, I will have him return to the Federation immediately."
"Sir, have you considered the consequences of such actions? And are you sure Gerlos will obey your orders? From what I know, martial artists thrive on combat and view battle as a form of enjoyment."
"Any consequences will fall solely on me. I will bear all the blame. As for Gerlos, hmph, he is no ordinary martial artist. He is a born ruler. A true king does not recklessly charge to the front lines."
Beep!
With that, the Douglas family head ended the communication, his dissatisfaction with the Empire reaching its peak.
He had opposed Muria's stationing at the Norman Defensive Line initially. However, after consulting Muria himself, he reluctantly agreed.
...
At the Norman Defensive Line, rumors of Muria's potential reassignment spread among the soldiers.
"Did you hear? They're saying the higher-ups might reassign Lord Gerlos!"
"What?!" Soldiers within the fortress erupted in disbelief. Soldiers from other parts of the line also perked up, their interest piqued.
Since Muria's arrival, the Norman Defensive Line—previously a battleground of constant skirmishes—had been entirely peaceful. Soldiers no longer lived in fear of sudden attacks. They could sleep soundly and eat on time.
For these soldiers, this newfound tranquility was paradise. No one wanted to lose it.
They knew who they had to thank: Lord Gerlos Douglas, who had come from far away.
"The higher-ups think it's a waste to keep Lord Gerlos stationed here and want to reassign him to more critical tasks," explained a junior officer privy to some insider information.
"What waste? Don't they realize how crucial the Norman Defensive Line is? Keeping Lord Gerlos here is the perfect arrangement!"
"But since Lord Gerlos arrived, there hasn't been a single battle—not even a minor skirmish," the officer sighed.
"I don't care what the higher-ups think. Lord Gerlos must stay!"
"Do you think we have any say in what the higher-ups decide?"
"Maybe not individually, but what if everyone on this line stands together?"
"What are you planning? Mutiny?"
"Not at all. Just a collective petition."
"Will it work?"
"Let's find out!"
Three days later, a large-scale petition unfolded at the Norman Defensive Line. Soldiers, both active and on rotation, signed identical petitions protesting Muria's reassignment.
The scale of the protest stunned the Empire's military command. Knowing Muria's presence, they refrained from using force to suppress the unrest, instead sending a morale team to soothe the soldiers.
It didn't work.
After quietly enjoying the morale team's performances, the soldiers resumed their protests.
Under pressure from both the Douglas family and their own forces, the Empire abandoned plans to reassign Muria. The soldiers were quickly informed of this decision, and the protests subsided.
Muria continued his leisurely "vacation" on the battlefield for nine more months until news arrived of reinforcements and supplies from the Federation.
At first, Muria paid little attention—until he learned of the reinforcement leader's identity. This time, the Federation had sent one of their strongest fighters: the First Martial Lord, Ain.
Ain was none other than Muria's Titan father, Ansel.
Three days after his father's arrival at an obscure Imperial station, Muria flew out to meet him.
"Where's Mom? Why didn't she come with you?" Muria asked as he approached Ansel, golden martial aura swirling around him.
Ansel's expression twitched slightly at his son's first question.
"She's in the Church of the Stars' territory," Ansel replied.
"What's she doing there?" Muria asked curiously.
"We found traces of a god's presence there—something unusual. Your mother went to investigate. She should have news soon."
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