"The permission of all the Age Controllers?"
Aaron gave a derisive laugh. "At the very least, the Mother of Night makes no attempt to conceal her hostility toward me... If I went to the pinnacle of the Spirit Realm in my true form, I'd probably be watched by several Age Controllers..."
"What a pity..."
Raven shook his wings, making an exceptionally human-like gesture of helplessness.
"It seems... the matter of the Gate of Longevity will require careful planning."
Aaron looked at Raven. "I'd like you to persuade those neutral Age Controllers who lean toward our side, so that they tacitly permit Motula's ascension... Once it succeeds, I'll give you a reward beyond your imagination."
"No problem. It would be my pleasure to serve you, sir!"
This was not the East. Western thinking meant putting everything on the negotiating table and clearly marking its price.
Raven happily added another investment. "I shall leave this generous reward deposited with you, to be repaid at a much later date... As the bankers say, compound interest and time are capital's best friends! I believe in those words, and I have more than enough patience and time to wait..."
After he finished speaking, Raven's gloomy aura vanished without a trace.
In truth, when he had previously retrieved a trace of the Gate of Longevity's imprint from the Spirit Realm, His aura had already been exceedingly weak. Now, He shattered like a soap bubble.
"Hey... Who ambushed Lord Bran?"
Crow's body swayed, and he plunged headfirst to the ground before flying back up, now carrying an air of roguishness.
Then, he saw Aaron, and his body trembled.
Though he did not know Aaron's identity, that ancient majesty from the Spirit Realm forced him to prostrate himself.
"Honored and noble sir, your loyal, humble, and obedient Bran