Magnus controlled everyone with his psychic power, his gaze sweeping over the merchants' uneasy faces as he searched for those he could control.
He wanted to find some cowards—cowards whose souls would flee their bodies at the mere sound of his stomp—not a pack of idiots who thought themselves strong enough to challenge his control...
Judging by the changes in their expressions and the scent of their souls, Magnus could easily pick out the hard-boned ones among them. He relaxed his psychic control.
Rather than uselessly crying for help, those people stretched their wrists, gathered together, and met Magnus's gaze.
Years spent in positions of power had given them an arrogant bearing, one that kept them from being overwhelmed by Magnus's Primarch aura.
"Let's discuss the terms of our cooperation." Magnus giggled, looking like an innocent child.
"Cooperation? What sort of cooperation do you want?" asked the most prestigious representative among the merchants. Unlike the others, he was not bloated in build; he looked more like a warrior capable of charging into battle.
Magnus had already sentenced the man to death. A cruel spell surfaced in his memory. As long as he held the man's soul, he could use the similarity between souls to find everyone else related to him by blood.
Wipe out an entire family in one stroke. During the Great Crusade, Magnus had loved using this spell to eradicate the thousands upon thousands of royal relatives and nobles within petty dynasties.
"What I mean by cooperation is that you, along with your country, must obey my commands. You will treat my every word as the supreme truth. Even the gods you worship are beneath me. Well? That's a reasonable request, isn't it?"
"Sir... though you are extraordinarily powerful, dreaming of shaking an entire country with the strength