The grand party at House True's main estate was still in full swing when the Imperialon couple quietly slipped away.
The husband and wife walked side by side, escorted by a tight circle of bodyguards. No other family members joined them — just the two of them and their silent protectors. The night air was cool and carried the distant sound of laughter and music from the hall they had left behind.
They stopped beside a large, elegant fountain in the courtyard. Water cascaded gently from a marble statue of a crowned figure, the soft splashing sound the only noise around them. The wife stood with quiet grace. She was a woman of simple, striking beauty — sharp green eyes, long dark hair pinned elegantly at the back, and a calm, intelligent face that always seemed to be thinking three steps ahead. She wore a fitted dark gown that accentuated her poise without being flashy. Her husband, by contrast, was a pot-bellied man of average height, dressed in an expensive but slightly rumpled suit. His face showed the strain of worry even in victory.
They waited in silence for their drivers to bring the cars. The wife gently pressed her husband's palm, offering silent comfort.
Soon, the convoy arrived — a line of sleek black vehicles. All were identical except for the lead car, which bore custom plates reading "HEAD OF HOUSE IMPERIALON." These were the latest models from the Camel series — revolutionary vehicles that required no fuel, no maintenance, and no external energy source. They simply moved. Earlier versions had been painfully slow and lasted only a year before becoming unusable. This new generation was faster, more durable, and had been upgraded from luxury transport to heavy escort vehicles. Still, they were not the fastest cars in their price range — other manufacturers could outrun them — but their reliability and self-sustaining power made them symbols of Imperialon innovation.
The drivers opened the doors smoothly. The husband and wife slid into the middle car, while the bodyguards took positions in the vehicles ahead and behind. The convoy began to move, gliding smoothly into the night.
Inside the reinforced but still relatively comfortable car, the wife poured herself a glass of deep red wine from a small built-in cooler. She took a slow sip, her posture relaxed despite the heavy conversation ahead.
The husband, however, could not stay calm. He rubbed his hands together anxiously.
"This is bad… this is very bad," he muttered.
The wife said nothing at first, only continued to hold his hand, her touch steady and reassuring.
He kept going, his voice rising with worry. "The success of the ritual will destroy our income. The High Lord will cut spending on our serums now that he has those anti-Bloodline beings back. Why has such a good thing brought such terrible news to us? I am going to become a poor man… Oh, I can't take it. But what can I do? Our billions will soon drop to mere millions, and we'll be forced to check the price of everything before we buy it."
The wife finally spoke, her voice calm, intellectual, and precise — the same refined tone she had used when reporting to the council earlier.
"You worry too much, my dear. I have already told you before… your wife is here. Leave everything to me."
The husband turned to her, his eyes filling with sudden hope and love.
"Do you have a plan, my wife?"
She took another slow sip of wine, her green eyes gleaming with quiet confidence.
"I always have a plan."
He smiled, the tension in his shoulders easing as he looked at her with deep affection and relief.
The wife continued, her words measured and strategic.
"The only problem is that the anti-Bloodline beings from House True have made our serums far less necessary. The math is simple: fund temporary body-enhancing serums… or fund immortal-like beings whose Bloodline powers cannot touch them, and do it for far less gold. But we are not doomed."
Her husband frowned. "But the math says we are doomed."
She reached out and gently rubbed his cheek, her touch tender.
"I said stop worrying. I hate that look on your face. Your wife already has a plan."
She paused, letting the words settle, then continued with the same calm intellect.
"Do you remember that Elara girl? I wonder what the High Lord would do if he heard that her blood can give humans Bloodline powers…"
The husband looked confused, still processing.
The wife smiled faintly and explained.
"I mean we simply need to move in secrecy. Acquire the Elara girl and experiment on her blood. Even if she dies in the process… the High Lord won't care when he is staring at an army of humans who possess Bloodline powers."
The husband let out a loud, satisfied laugh, his earlier despair completely gone.
"I would be nothing without you."
The wife raised her glass, her eyes soft with genuine affection.
"No… I am the one who would be nothing without you."
They clinked their glasses together in a quiet toast as the convoy continued its smooth journey toward their main estate.
Outside, the world slowly faded into darkness.
**End of Arc 1**