The entire antique hall went silent at the War Priestess' words.

The old man stared sharply at the War Priestess.

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing special. You can ignore my comment," She responded with a shrug before diverting her attention back to the majority.

"Neither the Warlock Centaurs nor the Berserkers will force Michael to do anything. If he can procure Soultraits – like most of the Awakened present in this hall presume – we would be happy to purchase them for a fair price. We can also trade Soultraits for other rarities. However, we won't force Michael Fang to do anything, and we won't look favorable to those who attempt to force, or manipulate this young Awakened."

"To be honest, I don't know much about Michael Fang, but I've heard and seen enough to understand that he is a good person. He rescued my kind several times, and I believe that he will continue to do so. He never hesitated to help my people, and he certainly does not care what race anyone belongs to. I don't want to force him to do anything. Instead, I – No. The Warlock Centaurs – would love to trade with him!"

There was a hidden warning in the War Priestess' declaration. The Warlock Centaurs wouldn't like those who dared to force Michael into doing something he didn't want to.

It was interesting that the Warlock Centaurs decided to side with Michael like this instead of trying to make use of his power directly.

"Of course, if anyone dares to do something funny, the Warlock Centaurs will welcome Michael into our lands. We are more than willing to accept him as a permanent resident," The War Priestess added at last, causing a small uproar among the human authorities.

"We will NOT permit this! Michael Fang is a human and he ought to live with us!" One of the older men shouted, only for Olivia to laugh out loud, "Yeah 'live with us' to make sure that we can take him out like a lab rat. Or do you want to turn him into your Soultrait Breeder? He is just a kid. Calm down a little bit."

Olivia's words were not loud but everyone present had a high enhancement degree. It was not challenging for them to make out her words.

"He is not a kid. He is an asse–...." The same old man, Rothaer Melik, retorted, realizing too late what he'd just said.

"An asset? Seriously?"

By now, even Oliver couldn't help but feel pity for Michael. The old folks of the Big Five Universities and the Great Three Academies were just the tip of the iceberg. They were selfish and their avarice was boundless. Unfortunately, they were a prime example of the older generations. High Society was filled with Lords whose greed and selfishness granted them great power and influence. Not everyone was like this, but Oliver was familiar with enough of them– too many, if one was to ask him.

"One way or another, Michael Fang will stay with his people. Therefore, it will be increasingly more challenging for the Warlock Centaurs to trade with Michael. After all, he will return to his studies in the Sapphirelake Military Academy. Once he graduates, he will move back to Elyra – his home planet. The Warlock Centaurs and Berserkers won't be able to trade with Michael easily, EXCEPT if the Tritan Alliance continues to exist and if we start trading on a regular basis. As long as we can find a compromise in that regard, we can ensure that Michael will trade with both Berserkers and Warlock Centaurs!" Rothaer Melik replied, his eyes gleaming in greed.

He hadn't been able to sign a contract with the Berserkers and Warlock Centaurs yet. The sole reason he traveled to the ancient city had been to start a large-scale business deal that encompassed the entire Tritan Alliance. However, he failed miserably at that. Michael's existence was THE opportunity he needed to change his ill-fate.

"That won't be necessary," The Berserker Chieftain intervened at last.

"It won't be necessary? What do you mean by that, Chieftain?" Rothaer had a bad feeling when the gigantic Berserker joined the conversation. The calm and composed expression on the huge leader's face of the Berserker race didn't sit well with Rothaer.

"I talked to Michael Fang a few occasions already, and I learned from the Berserkers who participated in the Interdimensional Flag War about Michael's fighting spirit and his heroic personality. He might not consider himself as anything special, but that makes him even more unique, and likable. But let's not talk too much about his personality, or his strength. I will cut to the chase right away," The Chieftain said, yet he took his time looking at the human authorities seated in the antique hall.

"Zeron Polik, a Champion who lost his territory a few months ago, fought together with Michael against the Tekur and several human traitors. He was shocked about the hidden potential that resides within Michael, and he said that it would be a shame to potentially lose contact with him. Zeron Polik also knows that it will be challenging to trade with Michael once he departs. Therefore, he requested a Silver Token of Transportation from me."

The moment the words 'Token of Transportation' reverberated through the room, the cogs in everyone's head began to rattle wildly.

Even the War Priestess and some Elders of both the Warlock Centaur and Berserker race were stupefied as they came to the same conclusion.


"Zeron Polik offered to become Michael's underling to grow stronger and learn from Michael, and to establish a permanent, rather easy, personal trading route between the Berserkers and Michael Fang." The Chieftain declared, the corner of his lips curling upward as he saw the awareness dawn on everyone's face.

Not even the War Priestess expected something like that. She stared at the Berserker Chieftain, her mouth wide open, just like the others.

By offering to become Michael's subordinate, Zeron Polik indicated that he was willing to initiate a link of loyalty with Michael as his Lord. Zeron Polik would have to use the Silver Token of Transportation – an extremely rare item created by the Will – to change his Runic Gate's anchor permanently to his new Lord's aka Michael's Summoning Gate.

Zeron Polik could move to Michael Fang's territory and become a permanent citizen. As long as that worked out, Zeron Polik could meet up with Michael Fang in the Origin Expanse to trade easily. It wouldn't even matter whether Michael was back in Kelta, returned home to Elyra, or if he traveled to another galaxy.

None of that mattered. The Berserkers wouldn't have to travel to the solar system to follow Michael and stay informed about his location. They could leave him alone and wait for Zeron Polik to complete all business deals and trades. All Zeron had to do was to go to the Origin Expanse and trade.

"B-but aren't Berserkers and Warlock Centaurs reluctant to become the subordinates of another race?!?" Rothaer asked, his voice rising an octave with every spoken word. He was struggling to stay calm and composed. No…he was struggling to not cry out in despair.

"It is correct that we do not become subordinates to other races' Lords under normal circumstances. But that is mostly because we do not get along with many races. We wouldn't want to become the subordinates of cowardly Lords or become their meatshields. Usually, we stay among ourselves because we understand our traditions, instinctual behavior, and personalities the best. However, there have been exceptions. Michael is one of those," The Chieftain revealed, his eyes traveling to the War Priestess, "Or would you say that Michael did not earn enough respect and honor in the eyes of the Warlock Centaurs?"

The War Priestess was being used as a tool to confirm that Michael met the requirements. She understood that very well, but it irked her that the Chieftain hadn't discussed this with her before. Narrowing her eyes, the War Priestess stared at the Chieftain for a few seconds.

"It is true. Michael is a True Warrior. We've seen him fight, heard about his heroic tales and how he rescued his own brethren, Berserkers, and Warlock Centaurs all together. As long as a Warlock Centaur or Berserker is willing to fight alongside Michael, they may do so. We won't hold them back, and neither will the Laws of the True Warrior. He is a True Warrior, and he will be treated like one!"

Old Man Rothaer stared at the leaders of the Berserker and Warlock Centaur race, his eyes filled with anger and frustration.

He couldn't believe what was happening right now. Hundreds of higher-ups of High Society had been working for years to get closer to the Berserkers and Warlock Centaurs, yet they hardly made any progress. But now a youngling, a youth who had yet to reach the tender age of 19 achieved what they'd tirelessly worked for years? It didn't even look like Michael was trying.

Michael Fang had been thrown into High Society without trying anything. He attracted everyone's attention and it was only a matter of time before he would earn a fortune.

"Just so everyone knows, if something happens to Michael Fang, I will find out about it through Zeron Pilok. Make sure to behave, okay?" The Chieftain warned with a bright smile. However, his eyes weren't smiling. They were ice-cold.

Alice looked at the Chieftain, her heart beating wildly. It was great that Michael managed to get on the good side of the Berserkers and Warlock Centaurs. However, there was also a tinge of sadness that had taken root in her body.

'Is there anything I can do to help him…or am I just useless?'