In A Fantasy World I Can Absorbs Abilities

"If we can't put this out, we're all dead!" an enemy commander bellowed, but the inferno only grew, consuming more of their forces.

"They're climbing again!"

On the walls, defenders scrambled to prepare more oil and fire. Another cauldron was poured over the advancing siege tower, and a fresh wave of fire erupted, engulfing the tower and its attackers.

Screams, curses, and the stench of burning flesh filled the battlefield. It was a vision of hell itself—a relentless clash between those scaling the walls and those defending them.

Far from the chaos of the battlefield, Duke Iasus of the Pamir Empire convened with the emperor's generals inside his command tent. The tumult of war was a distant echo beyond the thick canvas walls.

Iasus, nephew to the emperor and one of the most powerful figures in the empire, sat at the head of the table, his sharp gaze cutting through the room. His reputation for strength and decisive action preceded him, and his decisions carried the weight to shift the tide of battle.

Clasping his hands tightly, he bit his lip in thought, his expression betraying a rare moment of uncertainty.

"Continuing this attack is reckless, Your Grace," one general said cautiously, breaking the silence. His voice was laced with concern. "His Majesty has explicitly ordered us to prioritize the safety of the crown prince."

Another general nodded in agreement. "It's not just the prince. The Five Tribal Chiefs are also in captivity. If word of this spreads, the tribes will surely revolt. The consequences could be catastrophic."

Iasus raised his head slowly, his heavy gaze silencing the room.

"Do not act rashly," he said firmly. "His Majesty has granted me full authority as the commanding officer in this theater. My decisions take precedence."

An uneasy silence followed until one general, emboldened by frustration, spoke up.

"Could it be that you wish for the prince to perish? That would clear the way for you to ascend the throne."

Iasus's eyes flashed with anger, and his jaw tightened.

"Hold your tongue!" he snarled. "How dare you accuse me of such treachery? I have sacrificed everything for the safety of the imperial family."

The weight of his record was undeniable, and even the accuser faltered, mumbling an apology under his breath.

Yet, Iasus's internal struggle was evident. The current momentum could allow them to capture the fortress, but the capture of the prince and the chiefs had complicated matters. He seethed inwardly at their foolishness for getting caught.

But he had no choice. The emperor's orders were clear, and his position as the emperor's closest relative made his every move subject to scrutiny. To avoid further suspicion, he had to call off the attack.

The sudden sound of drums reverberated across the battlefield, signaling the Pamir forces to withdraw. Confusion rippled through the imperial ranks as soldiers hesitated, then slowly began retreating.

"Damn it, what's going on?"

"Just when we were about to break through!"

"Shut it. Duke Iasus wouldn't make such a decision without reason. Trust in his judgment."

On the fortress walls, the allied forces of Celeste and Elonia stared in stunned disbelief. What had caused the enemy to retreat so abruptly?

General Elond of the allied forces, observing from a vantage point, allowed himself a small, satisfied smile. News of the imperial crown prince and the Five Tribal Chiefs' capture had reached the fortress. He had anticipated this outcome.

"It was wise to hold back the ballistae," he remarked, stroking his thick beard as he exchanged glances with his aide.

"As always, your foresight is unparalleled, General," the aide replied with a hint of admiration.

Elond chuckled softly, feigning indifference. "But what about the rumors? Do you think they're true?"

The aide's expression turned serious. "I can't say for certain, but they're credible enough to warrant attention."

Elond nodded thoughtfully, his fingers brushing his white beard. The weight of years hung heavy on him as he mused aloud, "A secret to extend life and restore youth… If Emperor Gorbachev hears of this, he'll lose his mind."

Though Elond pretended to be unaffected, the gleam in his eyes betrayed his own burning curiosity. His aide, sensing an opening, ventured cautiously.

"Perhaps you should involve yourself in this hunt, General. If the secret came from the crown prince, it's likely true. He wouldn't have revealed it unless his life depended on it. After all, his brothers all died before the emperor."

Elond, expecting such encouragement, cleared his throat and replied, "Hmm, perhaps I should. Life extension… rejuvenation…"

He stroked his beard again, feigning a dignified air, but the greed in his eyes burned unmistakably bright.

"Every elder across the continent will clamor for this secret," he murmured. "Even those who've renounced worldly ambitions will come crawling out of their retreats. The emperor won't escape this storm."

James, a member of the Imperial Guard of the Celeste Empire, paused momentarily before the grand doors leading to the audience chamber. He needed to steady his breath. Delivering a battlefield report directly to the Emperor was a daunting task, and his fear was overwhelming.

"I'd rather be out on the battlefield," he thought.

His back was already drenched in sweat. The man he was about to face, Emperor Siegmund, was no ordinary sovereign. To ascend to the pinnacle of power, Siegmund had endured countless intrigues, earning a reputation for cruelty even before his coronation. The Emperor showed no trace of sympathy or regret for his slain siblings. Whispers about Siegmund killing all his brothers to secure the throne were common, but no one dared mention it in his presence. Siegmund himself was the embodiment of fear.

With trembling hands, James pushed open the doors of the audience chamber. A chill immediately engulfed him, cooling his sweat-soaked back. A mage specializing in ice magic was permanently stationed there to maintain the cold, as the Emperor detested warmth.

As James walked between the towering marble columns, he couldn't help but admire them. They seemed to stretch endlessly toward the ceiling, adorned with intricate carvings symbolizing the authority of the Empire and its ruler. These works of art could captivate anyone interested in sculpture, but their beauty did little to ease James's anxiety.