Chapter 458: Chapter 458- Covenants

Within this Castle, old portraits hung in the air, and an eerie silence flowed through the empty halls, stairway and even rooms.

The occasional sound of chains rattling and metal groaning echoed with the prevalent storm.

It’s sound rolled within the Castle interior. Leaving it spacious and hungry with a far promise of fulfilling it.

But even within this eerie Castle, a room pulsed with energy and life.

Within this room of red, blood walls and hazy fire lamps, a table, ceramic and stained, sat in the middle of the tranquil chaos.

And placed around it were ten seats.

The images of seven figures bounced on the walls. Casting a silhouette that failed to hide the strength within them.

And further at the end, was a throne, large, black and spiked. A work of pure evil, and on it was none other than the pillar of the Cult, the Crimson Lord.

His magnificence and power failed to hold the flow of authority that gushed out with ease from within as he placed his hands on the Throne rest and crossed his legs.

His piercing, Red eyes flared with something deep and old.

An ancient power churning with the blood of his foes.

And those eyes, and the wrath that burned within, were focused on none other than the seated members around his table.

A while had passed, and they had maintained the same silence they had experienced on getting there.

After all, no matter how strong these seven were, they knew it meant nothing before the Lord of the Castle.

His wrath, though hidden behind his calm poise had been seen a mile away.

These seven knew more than anyone not to speak before the Lord when his mood was nothing but churned blood and seething skin.

They would simply sit and wait… no matter the length.

If it took weeks… days, months and even years. They would simply remain seated. Without food or water, and even without speech.

Silence was key, and the fear they felt towards this man was eternal.

Loyalty begot from torture under true, absolute power.

They were puppies– sheep to this man, and he was their corrupted God.

Time had moved on so quickly since the start of their session.

So much so that it was now a week since their arrival, and the announcement of the fall of the Academy.

In the outside world, the streets were alive, but in here… it was calm as a still lake.

But even silence was transient… unless it was death.

“Two of us…”

His voice boomed with so much force. So much power that the seven figures instinctively reeled in their seats.

Subtle pangs of pain showed on their expressions.

But he wasn’t done.

“…Dead.”

And the meeting had begun.

The first, Malalal T’arjara of the Red Dragons, and the current head of the Dragonid Race looked up at the Throne with a weary gaze.

His crimson eyes, though, lacking the same depth as their lord, didn’t falter in showcasing his own shade of evil.

Two curved horns protruded from his scalp, backwards, and a robe of fur, golden and silk, adorned his entire prestige.

“My Lord. The Eternal Blood King, if I may… I propose a quick cleansing of the Executives.”

“What nonsense?!”

The fourth Executive, Rowen Dutch.

A man of great valour. A knight, true and true, whose armour was a carbon copy of the Throne.

Black, spiky, and ominous in all the right ways.

A scar smeared his left eye, but the well-cut moustache and beard contrasted with the ugly scar. It showcased the years of battle experience laid waste behind his vigour.

The first glanced at him with apal.

“The third, Mila Jack. A woman who had claimed the seat of an Executive was… killed… by children?”

His voice was laced with the disappointment of a demi-god.

But it seemed to register on the sturdy Knight.

“Mila Jack was the third in name… and not in strength.”

“Agreed.” The fifth, Krit Folly spoke with a nod. “We all know that progression is by contribution to the Cult, and not by strength.”

His gaze landed squarely on Malalal.

“But a lizard wouldn’t know that, would he?”

Malalal, the first took his gaze with a straight face.

But they all knew this man didn’t give a hoot about the words of humans.

“What stupid system.”

He muttered before turning away.

“I still recommend the Pudge, Crimson Lord.

Weakness in our name will sully yours.

Let us find people of great calibre who will uphold your name, truly.”

The members around the table seethed in their seats as they watched the Dragonoid with enraged stares.

This man, as well as the eighth seat, represented every other Demi-Human who served their Cult.

And his strength was unfathomably the highest after their Lord. As a 12th circle Mage, he stood at the precipice of magic and was undoubtedly a Saint in his own right.

Though, the gap between each star from the 11th was far wider than one could ascertain.

So his strength paled before their Lord.

“Changing the Executives will only be a waste of time and effort.

How certain are you that the next one won’t be far weaker than the numbers you see here?”

The second, Lioren Koske, the Lion Pride of the Red Peacemakers.

Unlike the others, this man was a natural-born fighter, and his high charisma made him a Leader worth following.

Those beneath him were extremely loyal and those on par with him respected him.

So as Lioren spoke, the air in the room had visibly shifted.

And the flames that wavered on their torches did a good job of showcasing that change.

Malalal glanced at him with a deep frown while the others sat in silence.

“Weakness has never been a qualification for the seats of the Crimson Lord.”

“And a waste of manpower will sully his name as well.” Lioren’s voice was calm and boisterous.

A glow of strength emanated from his bulging biceps and pectorals as he folded his arms.

“This isn’t a time where we change the Heads, but a time we foster it.”

The Dragonoid opened his mouth to speak when he suddenly froze and turned in the direction of the Throne.

Soon, the heads of everyone around the table did the same, and silence plagued them once more.

‘He’s about to speak.’ Malalal thought to himself as they awaited his law.

“You have spoken well, Lioren.” The Crimson Lord said with a lazy tone in his voice, causing the fiery, blonde-haired man to smile faintly and bow.

Malalal simply seethed inwardly, but kept his calm poise outwardly.

“And you as well, Malalal. A purge would be placed… but not for the Cult… not my people.”

The silence grew into tension as the heads of everyone present began to piece his words together.

Little by little, their Lord’s words were already forming before it was pronounced.

“What we will purge is this world. The people who inhabit it… the Devil Lord patience is running thin… and my people rush in haste.”

The Crimson Lord stopped for a moment.

His gaze narrowed as images flashed through his mind.

The West of the Witch. The children of the Jun Household. Raffaelo Jun.

He had been an uncertainty till the very end, and fortunately, he had died when he posed a threat to him.

‘Information that is not known to anyone other than the 7 Greater Sins…’

He could still recall the prophecy of the Demonic Sire.

The being which had sent them to kill him during the Rankings Battle.

It had been a period where their strength was limited… given that they were at the precipice of the 10th tier.

And because of that weakness… their goal was ordinarily flipped… Michaelo Jun had showcased a strength never before seen– The 11th Star.

And he had impeded their goal.

‘No matter… time has passed.’

With nearly five years in the mix, the Greater Sins had received great teachings from the Knights of the Devil King, and now… they stood at the absolute top of whatever Humanity threw at them.

‘Raffaelo Jun is dead… and any more unforeseen circumstances will not be tolerated.’

Therefore…

“We will not strike now…”

The Room stilled, and a subtle shake of anger circled through their systems.

Their dissatisfaction was palpable, yet no one spoke– They wouldn’t dare to.

After all, his words weren’t just the law. They were their life.

“…We will bide our time in the darkness… sew the seed of discord, cause chaos wherever we find ourselves.

For the gates of Hades crack with the suffering of Humanity.”

“But you all are not ready to venture into the world for the King’s teachings… You are far too weak. Too human… death will be upon you the moment you set foot into the outside world.”

Far stronger opponents lived in the outside world.

The Great Families and even the Seven Royal Households…

The strength they held was difficult to ascertain, and that made the future unforeseeable.

They needed a sure win. A victory from the complete conquer of their enemy, and Lioren… had the perfect idea.

“MY LORD, IF I MAY!”

He whipped to his feet and crashed into the ground, slamming his head into it as he bowed deeply.

The entire room shook.

Their eyes flared open in shock, and beads of sweat pooled on their foreheads.

Lioren had just done the unthinkable… and perhaps the dumbest thing they thought of.

He had spoken when not to.

Though, to their surprise, the Crimson Lord did nothing but glance at him with a curious stare.

“Speak, Lion Pride.”

His fiery amber hair danced across his shoulders as he knelt straight with his gaze still fixed downwards.

“I had seen an old teaching… a power lost over the years… artefacts of the gods… enchantments of great power…”

Then he lifted his head slowly.

Arranging his thoughts in order before ending his reply.

“The Twelve Covenants of the Stars”