Successor Candidate

The story was long, so long it seemed to span the Long River of countless years, and it deeply stirred Pluton's long-silent mind.

He paused, his gaze turning distant, as though he were searching desperately through those endless memories for something.

Seeing Swain listening with such absorption and focus, he could not help but smile. That smile contained too many complicated emotions: helplessness, sentiment, and a trace of barely perceptible comfort.

"You seem to enjoy hearing this history?" Pluton's deep, magnetic voice echoed through the empty space.

Swain stretched his neck and let out a heavy breath. "Yes. It's like a very compelling story."

"A story? I truly hope it is just a story." Pluton sighed, and that sigh seemed to carry an immense weight.

If he had not happened to hear Imu's name, he would never have summoned Swain here.

He had already waited for several centuries, yet he did not know how much longer it would take to encounter the man who could liberate the entire world. The hatred in his heart burned like blazing fire. The hatred of a fallen kingdom was a scar carved deep into his soul, bringing endless pain whenever it was touched. Rather than wait indefinitely for that man's successor to arrive, he might as well choose a new successor.

And Swain was the best possible choice before him.

First, reaching a place ten thousand meters beneath the sea was no easy feat. One either needed extraordinary abilities or incredibly powerful technology, like the astonishing technology once possessed by the Ancient Kingdom.

Second, and most importantly, that person had to possess the ability to hear the voices of all things. At every location where an Ancient Weapon existed, there was a broadcasting machine. Anyone who could hear its voice could follow its instructions