<Great Blood Emperor (saint-class destiny): After suffering a series of setbacks and watching his sister sacrifice herself for the nation, Lysander matures into a wise and resourceful monarch, conquering the seven theocracies to unite the continent and rebuild the Great Blood Empire.
Emperor Lysander's rule will bring the Purple Dawn Continent to a golden age, shifting the power balance of the Spiritual World>
<Note that this is a Mainline Destiny. Messing with it may trigger the Weaver's wrath>
Mithras read the crown prince's destiny.
Anyone with Exalted Sense could notice individuals with extraordinary destinies—males and females blessed by the Weaver to accomplish legendary feats and leave their mark on the world.
Such individuals should be one in a million, so when Mithras noticed that several people in the capital possessed unusual destinies, he sacrificed hundreds of thousands of ero points to have the system reveal their destinies.
50,000 points per person. A painful loss no doubt. But thanks to that sacrifice, Mithras discovered Lysander's shocking destiny, and from that moment on, resolved to steal it.
Fate was an unreliable backer. In the initial plotline, Mithras was destined to become the Red God's servant, but the Lord erased that Fate Standard, enabling Mithras to embark on a different path.
Likewise, Lysander's destiny didn't protect him from Mithras. But while these proved destiny didn't have the final say, it didn't change the fact that by robbing Lysander's destiny, Mithras would be able to get all the perks of the crown prince's Fate Standard with none of the drawbacks.
Nature itself would start a series of events to help Mithras take control of the Purple Dawn Continent. Events that only anomalies such as Mithras himself could derail.
He could also give that destiny to someone else if he wanted to—creating a legendary subordinate whose life he'd control till the end of time.
Mithras wasn't as ambitious as the likes of Cassandra. His dream didn't require him to become some kind of supreme overlord. But control over an entire continent surely didn't hurt.
With nature and a continent on Mithras' side, who could stop him from rescuing his sister?
Lysander's destiny was a guarantee—a guarantee that from now on, Mithras' work in the Purple Dawn Continent would be smooth sailing.
Was this the same woman who used to bake him cookies and flatter his ego? The woman who pledged she'd spend a lifetime waiting for him if she had to? Was the power of the dick so corruptive that it made Honoria go from a gentle noble lady to a sinister slimthick hussy with no care for past affection? Or was she always such a bitch?
"Truth be told, crown prince, I used to find your stupidity endearing. But eventually, I got sick of it. I mean look at you. Dad this, dad that. Dad yes, dad no. Queen mother!
Wah, yes! That's all you can do?
I have been in the palace for nine years! You had all the time in the world to make a move and solve this like a man! But what did you do?
'Dad can I?' 'Queen mother can I?' And I'm supposed to wait? Wait for what exactly? The day the queen mother gives you the permission to hold my hand?
Some of you men need a course in common sense. You make a girl waste years to a decade of her life with no commitment whatsoever, then get surprised she's looking out for herself?
Was I just supposed to stay there and wait for you to mature into a real man?" Honoria rhetorically asked, making poor Lysander break into tears.
Not wanting to let Lysander suffer more heartache, Mithras stretched his hand forth, causing particles of gray light to fly out of Lysander's soul and crystallize in Mithras' hand.
The words 'Great Blood Emperor' took shape on the crystal, and as Lysander's destiny became Mithras' to do with as he pleased, the crown prince broke into dust, vanishing into nothingness.
"You really are a piece of work. The chap was dying anyway. Couldn't you give him a few nice words?" Feeling bad for Lysander, Mithras asked, stroking his chin with a solemn look.
"Oh, forgive me, master! I didn't wish to startle you, I'd forgotten you were so sweet, sensitive, tender and innocent that you can't bear the sight of a man dying in grief.
But I assure you, Lysander was a bitch. That 55-year-old punk doesn't deserve your pity," Honoria said in a mellow and honeyed tone, rubbing Mithras' back.
"Wow, you learn so fast. This is the first time I have met someone as skilled as me in the art of ass-kissing. Nice..." Impressed by Honoria's efforts, Mithras gave a vigorous nod. But as the noble lady trembled at her boss' jab...
*CRACK*
One large blood-colored fist crashed into Mithras' face. A succession of loud cracking sounds boomed all over, followed by a tide of divine energies that swept through the scene.