Chapter 642: Lyra's Queries
Lyra sipped her genisan-flavored coffee with graceful poise, her violet hair flowing over her shoulders like velvet. The faint clink of her cup meeting the table echoed softly in the room as she looked up at Max with composed determination.
Max, on the other hand, leaned forward slightly, his gaze sharp. "So, what did you want from me?" he asked at last, his voice calm but firm. "You didn't come all the way from the Middle Domain and secretly help me in the Lower Domain just out of kindness. What do you want in return?"
His question wasn't cold, just realistic. He knew better than to believe someone at her level would move pieces on the board without an endgame in mind. Lyra nodded, acknowledging the truth in his words.
"I need your help," she said bluntly, without a hint of hesitation.
That caught Max off guard. What could someone like her—a princess of one of the most powerful first-class forces in the Middle Domain—possibly need from him? Still, he listened, silently urging her to continue, because deep down, he already knew that whatever she needed, it might just benefit him as well.
After all, he wasn't naive. He understood his situation perfectly. At any moment, he could be branded a deserter by the Black Tortoise Nation and put on their kill list. Without protection from a force as powerful as the Great Ruler Empire, his life in the Middle Domain would be one long chase. So he was ready to hear her out.
Lyra didn't waste time. "I won't beat around the bushes," she said, her tone suddenly firmer, the air around her seeming to sharpen. "I want you to join the Great Ruler Empire and help us secure a spot in the top ten of the Divine Mandate Grand Tournament."
Her words dropped like a weight into the room. Max blinked, surprised, not because he was unwilling—no, he had been half-expecting something like this—but because he hadn't expected such a force to be in need of outside help.
'So, they really are desperate,' he thought to himself. That was the only explanation.
He leaned back in his seat, trying to wrap his head around it. The Great Ruler Empire was the strongest of the first-class forces. Their name alone commanded respect across multiple regions of the Middle Domain.
How could they not even have one genius in the top ten of the tournament for the past few times? Was their foundation starting to crack? Had their rivals finally started catching up? If that was the case, then what gave them the right to still call themselves the strongest first-class force?
Max didn't voice any of these questions out loud, but the thoughts raced through his mind. Still, despite his doubts, a part of him knew—this was the opportunity he'd been waiting for. A real chance to gain protection, reputation, and a platform strong enough to shake the entire Middle Domain.
"Aren't the Great Ruler Empire the strongest first-class force of the Middle Domain, said to be on par with the Four God Nation?" Max asked bluntly, voicing the question that had been nagging at the back of his mind since Lyra had revealed her identity and her request. "How could the geniuses from your force not make it into the top ten?"
He genuinely couldn't understand it. For a force that stood shoulder-to-shoulder with the Four God Nation, this sounded like a glaring weakness—one that contradicted everything he had read and heard so far.
Lyra exhaled slowly and shook her head, her violet eyes clouded with the weight of disappointment. "That's how it's been the past four times," she said, her tone quiet but edged with frustration. "We couldn't even get one of our geniuses into the top ten. Every time, we fell short."
Max frowned slightly, his brows tightening. "Is it really that important for a force to make it into the top ten?" he asked.
He wasn't trying to downplay her concerns, but he had to ask—was it truly so significant that it justified her leaving the Middle Domain, sneaking into the Lower Domain, and going as far as helping him? Surely it wasn't just about a tournament.
From what he understood, those from the Middle Domain weren't even allowed to interfere with the Lower Domain's affairs. She had taken a risk—a big one.
Lyra's expression hardened with solemnity, and the playful edge to her demeanor disappeared entirely. "You don't understand, Max," she said, her voice low and serious. "The Divine Mandate Grand Tournament isn't just any tournament. It is the most special, the most revered event in the entire Middle Domain. Its significance goes far beyond glory or prestige—it determines influence, opportunity, and survival to all the major forces in the Middle Domain."
Max was genuinely surprised to hear that. His brows furrowed slightly as he leaned back against the sofa, trying to make sense of everything Lyra had just told him. He simply couldn't wrap his head around it. A tournament? A grand stage where geniuses fought to determine who was the strongest?
Sure, it made sense for the participants—after all, every young geniuses wanted to prove their worth, to rise above the rest and carve their name into legend. But what baffled him was the sheer weight the major forces placed on it.
It wasn't just about reputation—it was as if their entire foundation, future prospects, and even survival hinged on their ranking in this one tournament. That level of obsession didn't quite sit right with him. Why would titanic powers, who commanded vast regions and armies, stake so much on a competition among youths?
Seeing the expression on Max's face, she leaned in and added. "The forces that rank in the top ten are given access to resources, territories, and ancient inheritances hidden deep within the core of the Middle Domain. It's not just about power—it's about advancement. The divine wills of the world itself acknowledge the winners. Blessings. Fates. Legacies. Do you understand now why all the major forces hold it in such high regard?"
Max's eyes widened as he listened. He hadn't known. He thought it was just some glorified battle event to showcase young talent. But this… this was something else. A tournament that could change a force's fate? That drew the attention of the divine wills of the world itself?
No wonder Lyra had gone so far to seek him out. No wonder the Great Ruler Empire was desperate. For them, failure wasn't just humiliation—it was a slow but certain decline.
And for him? Maybe it was the fastest path to the fame he needed...
"Alright, I'll help you," Max said finally, his voice calm yet firm. "But only on one condition."
His eyes met hers with unwavering focus, a sharp contrast to the casual tone he had used earlier. He wasn't someone who made promises lightly—especially not to a princess of a major force who had likely manipulated events from the shadows for a long time.
Lyra raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued, but not surprised. She leaned slightly forward, resting her elbows on her knees, her fingers gently entwined beneath her chin. "What condition?" she asked, her voice soft but curious, as if she had expected a demand but wanted to see what kind of man he truly was.