’The Black Throne isn’t just teaching me how to reach my full potential, he’s also turning me into a worthy opponent.’ Jorl thought. ’This cursed bastard wants me to be so strong that I can stand my ground against him, and he can enjoy our battle.
’To him, I’m nothing but a puzzle. Something that must be complex enough to be challenging, but without the means to harm its master. A game that only needs time and wits to be solved before moving on to the next.’
"Don’t worry, Throne, I will." Jorl nodded. "Is that all the help you can offer me, though? Coordinates and wishful thinking?"
"Of course, not." The cursed tower scoffed. "If you find enough Adamant and the necessary natural treasures, I’ll Forgemaster the equipment for your followers just like I’ll Forgemaster yours. If you allow me, apprentice. The choice is yours."
On the one hand, the Storm Griffon was aware that the Black Throne might rig the equipment and add failsafes that would prevent its user from turning against the cursed tower.
On the other hand, Jorl deeply regretted having already wasted so many resources on his current equipment.
He had spent over a thousand years accumulating what he would need for the equipment suitable for the size of a violet-cored Griffon, and Orpal’s Forgemasters had consumed it all.
The quality of the artifacts produced by a legendary mage in his mage tower was bound to be incomparable to what a bunch of Forgemasters desperate enough to join the Dead King’s cause could achieve.
Despite his many misgivings about their alliance, the Black Throne represented Jorl’s best shot at overthrowing Orpal and taking command of his Upyr army.
’I will worry about how to get rid of the Black Throne once our interests no longer align.’ He thought. ’Until we defeat and capture Orpal, we are on the same side.’
"What about Blade Weapons?" Jorl actually asked. "Can you Forgemaster them for me and the future generals of my faction?"
"Of course." The cursed tower burst into mocking laughter. "Not. Power cores weren’t a thing back in my day, or I wouldn’t have needed Forbidden Magic to craft a mage tower, my silly apprentice.
"Power cores are a recent invention, and Blade Spells are their rarest application. Only a handful of people have gotten their hands on a Blade Weapon through the centuries, and even fewer among those who witnessed a Blade Spell survived to tell the tale.
"I’ve seen only one mage capable of casting Blade Spell my entire existence, and only because I knew exactly where to find the First King."
"Valeron Griffon?" The Storm Griffon asked in amazement. "Did you try to approach him?"
"No, he was too terrifying." The Black Throne shuddered at the memory, yet his usually mocking tone was replaced by respect whenever he mentioned Valeron’s title. "His hate for Forbidden Magic was well known.
"The First King would have never accepted my gifts. Maybe I could have defeated him if I put my life on the line, but Tyris was never far from him. If she so much as caught my scent, I wouldn’t be here now."
"You’re not sure you could have won?" Jorl asked in amazement. "Was my mother’s human husband that strong?"
"Much more than you can imagine." The cursed tower sighed. "If not for Valeron’s peaceful nature and his love for his people, he could have conquered the entirety of Garlen and Verendi. All the land on this side of the ocean would have been his realm.
"Such an empire wouldn’t have lasted a day after his death, and the people of the current Kingdom would have never experienced a thousand years of peace and prosperity, but that’s something only historians praise."
"You are lucky Valeron the First is gone, apprentice, or the world map would be much different today, and I would still be hiding."
"I’ll take your word on that." Jorl nodded. "And your offer for equipment. There’s a strong chance that Orpal sabotaged what I’m wearing, and I can use a spare in case he tries to backstab me. Do you need to size me up?"


"No." Jirni shook her head. "The two events *are* correlated. How, however, is beyond me."
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