Morgan's face was filled with fury after finding out what had happened to William in the North.

However, the killing intent that oozed out of his body after he heard that Eve had been captured, and was now about to be crowned as the High Priestess of Darkness was like the final tug that broke the limit of Morgan's patience.

"I understand what you're feeling right now, Uncle, but in our current state, we are not a match for them," William said as he looked at his Uncle Morgan whose eyes screamed of murder. "Don't inform Uncle Mordred for now because I am sure that he will do something reckless if he knew of what happened to Eve.

"For now, we should wait for Gramps to return. Eve is currently safe and is being treated as a Princess in the Demon Capital. Rest assured that her life isn't in any danger."

Morgan clenched and unclenched his fist before taking a deep breath, in order to calm himself. A minute later, calm had returned to his face, but the killing intent that was being radiated by his body didn't diminish even a single bit.

"What are your plans?" Morgan asked.

"Inherit father's legacy, and build my own army," William replied. "An army that this world had never seen before."

Morgan nodded his head in understanding. He had seen his brother at his peak and understood how domineering he was as he commanded his army of Dungeon Monsters that numbered in the millions.

"How about you, Uncle?" William asked. "Do you have any plans?"

Morgan stared at his nephew before crossing his arms over his chest. "I will need to leave the Tower of Babylon. If what you said was right then I also need to replenish my army."

"Good." William smiled. The next time we strike at Felix and his army, he will be in for a very nasty surprise."

Morgan only briefly nodded his head before standing up. "I'll leave the Floor of Asgard in your hands, Will. When the time comes, make sure to inform me when you plan to strike."

Morgan threw a golden crystal at William, and the latter caught it without fail.

"Understood, Uncle," William replied. "It might take a while, but please, bear with it."

Morgan turned his back on his nephew and casually waved his hand as if telling him that he had nothing to worry about.

The black-haired teenager watched his uncle go with a smirk on his face. The reason why Morgan was exiled from the Southern Continent was due to how powerful, and destructive he was.

The Red Plague, or the Ainsworth Family's private army, was composed of thousands of men. However, the real reason why their names became notorious was because of the four individuals that held its foundation.

James the Overlord.

Maxwell the Conqueror.

Morgan the Plague

And Mordred the Dragonborn.

James and Mordred were the tamest of the four, but the twins, Maxwell and Morgan were very bold and aggressive people.

Maxwell used his Dungeon Conqueror Job Class to strike terror into his enemies' hearts by using brute force to trampble them under his feet.

Morgan used plague and pestilence-bearing insects to strike his enemies with diseases until not even the land itself could grow any crops that were needed to sustain life.

Whenever these four people moved, the lands were dyed with the blood of their enemies. This was why they were called the Red Plague. A plague that no kingdom, nor empire, wanted to see knocking on their doorsteps.

After Morgan left, William went to the throne room.

The spacious hall was immaculately designed, and very spacious. There, standing proudly at the end of the hall was a magnificent throne, where the mighty All Father, Odin, sat during the council of the Gods.

There was not a time when William dared to sit on that throne, out of respect for the All Father that ruled to protect the peace of the Nine Realms. Even now, the Half-Elf still didn't dare to sit on it.

"Yep, Gramps should be the one to sit over there," William chuckled as he remembered dressing up his Grandfather, James, with an eyepatch as he sat on the throne like some kind of esteemed ruler.

William had a good laugh back then because of James' awkward appearance as he sat on the throne of Asgard.

"Gramps, hurry back home," William said softly. "Crushing Felix won't be the same without you here by our side."

While William was thinking of his grandfather, a light cough came from behind him and broke him out of his daze.

Albert, William's Fifth Master, and Senior Brother, stood with his hands behind his back.

"I've finished my preparations," Albert stated. "We can perform the ceremony to unlock your powers anytime."

"Can we start now?" WIlliam asked.

"Of course."

"Good. Let's do this."

William faced Albert with a mischievous smile on his face. "I am already looking forward to seeing the day where I will have an army that will surpass the one my father had."

Albert looked at the black-haired teenager with a bitter smile. He knew that what the Half-Elf said wasn't an impossibility, but a reality that was just waiting to happen.

"If that day really comes, I pray that whoever ticked you off has prepared his coffin," Albert replied. "Your father at his peak was more Demonic than the Demon Lord. Luciel was no more than an impostor when compared to him, but, even then, I was still more handsome than him. This was something that Maxwell wasn't able to beat despite how strong he was."

William was very tempted to tell his Senior Brother that maybe his narcissism was the reason why his mother, Arwen, didn't find him to her liking. However, for the sake of world peace, he just kept this thought in his heart.

'Finally the time has come,' William thought as he followed behind his Fifth Master, who chased the skirt of girls left and right in the Kraetor Empire. 'The path of conquest is already here.'

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