"Lastly, you must suppress the hunger of the malice. Curses at that height of power often possess a primitive, predatory instinct. In some cases, the weave of the spell is even conscious, actively adapting to any resistance it encounters. If you can find specialized artifacts to mask her presence or lull the curse into a state of hibernation, the rate of erosion will drop significantly."

He looked toward Soren, the golden light in his eyes dimming.

"Though you should know that none of this will save her. It is merely a stay of execution. But it will keep her soul anchored while you seek a way to kill the parasite. If you want to truly break it, you will eventually have to find its source or a power that stands above the one who cast it. Of course, the most direct path is to find a true master of the craft. Seek a scholar, a healer, or a cursemaster who understands the architecture of malice and can dismantle the threads without collapsing the soul they are tied to."

Soren absorbed every word, his mind racing to integrate these insights.

Although he had already considered some of these methods, the Emperor’s perspective provided a much clearer view of the curse’s behavior. He now understood he was dealing with an apex predator rather than a simple magical ailment. He bowed his head, his voice filled with genuine gratitude.

"Thank you, Senior. This information is more valuable than any treasure."

"Do not be so quick to conclude our business," the Emperor said, his silhouette flickering as the hall’s light began to consolidate toward the center. "Guidance is a gift, but it is often useless without the proper catalyst to set it in motion. You have spent a long time searching the horizon for an answer, yet you are in luck, for the very tool you require is standing right beside you."

"You mean, him?" Soren shifted his gaze to Ryan.

"Mm. That boy’s ability will be of great help to you in your endeavor."

Soren nodded slowly.

The Emperor’s words confirmed the suspicion he had harbored since he first witnessed the boy’s strange potential.

"As for how he can assist you, I will leave that for you and the kid to figure out," the Emperor added, his voice carrying a final, knowing weight. "And... It will be up to him whether he is willing to help you, and it will be up to you to earn that loyalty."

"I understand," Soren replied steadily. "Loyalty isn’t something I expect to be given freely. I will make sure I earn it."

"Good. Then our trade is concluded. Unless, of course, you have anything else on your mind."

"This..." Soren hesitated. He looked at the vast, silent hall and then back at the fading silhouette of the man who had once ruled an entire world. A question that had been gnawing at the back of his mind since he saw that window finally forced its way out.

"Senior... how was your world? Was it similar to ours?" Soren asked, his voice low. "Was there an apocalypse that caused the appearance of mana and gates, too? And if you were truly as powerful as you seem... how exactly did your world come to an end? Were the enemies that strong? Then is our world in the same danger?"

"Hmm..."

"Similar, yet fundamentally different," the Emperor finally said. "My world was built on a different foundation. We had our own advancements, our own ’technology,’ if you wish to call it that, but it was never as mechanical or as ’modern’ as the structures I saw in those memories. We did not rely on the hum of machines, for we had the flow of the weave to do our bidding. Our cities weren’t built with the screech of metal or the burning of fuel, but through the shaping of mana and the tempering of stone. We lacked your intricate machines and digital networks, yet we commanded the elements as if they were extensions of our own limbs. It was a world of high magic, where the impossible was merely a matter of one’s internal capacity. But..."

"But for all our power, we were a people living in a tomb of shadow. Ever since I was born, there has been no sun or light in the sky. For hundreds of years, the world remained a cold, silent expanse of grey. I grew up in that land of eternal twilight, where the only warmth came from the mana we harvested and the fires we kept lit against the dark. But eventually, we adapted to the gloom, building an empire that thrived in the cold silence where most would have perished. I became the pillar that held that darkness at bay, a ruler over a world where the celestial fire had long since been extinguished. And... That is the origin of my title: the Sunless Emperor."

He paused, the golden mist around him swirling into slow, heavy currents.

"As for the mana and the Gates, they existed for as long as our records reached. We never experienced a sudden upheaval or a beginning to the magic; it was simply there, as natural as the wind. There was no mention of an apocalypse in our history, nor a time when the world was devoid of such things.

As for the rest... how it all ended..."

The Emperor’s gaze drifted, his silhouette becoming increasingly faint against the consolidating light.

"It is better if you do not know. I cannot say if your world faces the same rot that claimed mine, but I do know that knowing too much, too early, is a burden that can crush a man before he even begins his journey. Some truths are best left for when you have the strength to actually carry them."

His voice began to distort, echoing as if from the bottom of a deep well.

"My last advice is: Focus on yourself, your wife, and the boy. The fate of worlds is a heavy weight for a man with a glass heart to carry."