The bald, scar-faced man was always well-mannered. He took pride in his polite mannerisms; a remnant of the days in office as a court official - before he made that one mistake; and fell from favour and into this cesspool of filth and depravity.He touched the many scars on his face; fingers tracing the line of one particularly long diagonal scar from the right side of his temples down the side of his face - barely sparing his eye from permanent blindness.
"A keepsake I will always remember..." He smiled derisively; both at himself and in remembrance of the man whose neck he would someday snap - personally, with his own bare hands. The hidden mastermind behind the plots that led to his downfall.
He stood in a lavishly decorated slightly circular room; one that was scattered with signs of opulence - luxurious fur rugs, fluffy pillows, a double-king sized bed and various ornaments made of porcelain, china or other precious materials.
He pursed his lips. The decor was tacky; excessive and not to his taste. It also didn"t suit the severe concrete walls used in the construction of the building - resulting in Vizier Murad repainting the walls white. A glaring, bright, cream-white that was an affront to Sarin"s aesthetic senses.
"Granted, I"m more for the minimalist style..."
Vizier Murad, the invigilator and one more guest - a tall cloaked man - were the only three souls present in the dark-skinned Murad"s room for the highest ranked court officials. The vizier was manipulating a pool of water in the middle of the room; misty wisps of mana with the slightest hint of blue effused from his hands to form clear images on the surface of the waters.
An image of the already-concluded one-sided thras.h.i.+ng of Moira by the victor, Linges... And the coming confrontation between her lover-boy and the beastly predator at the apex of the Arena.
Invigilator Sarin stood, tense and keeping his thoughts to himself; cautious. He was unable to see what they were watching due to his position and angle.
He was merely standing at the entrance, literally playing the role of a servant and doorman - guarding against any spying eyes.
He was not cautious because of Vizier Murad, despite the old, wrinkled and grey-haired man being one of the 9 Everlasting Pillars of the Kingdom of the Sands that spanned thousands of kilometres in every direction. A Kingdom built exactly on these 9 Pillars as well as the million-strong armies of the King of the Sands.
No, the typically nonchalant, externally genteel yet callous and cruel Sarin was spooked - because of how he had seen the Vizier act towards their guest.
The Sage of the Enlightened Skies. The Scholar of the Sands of Time. The Wise One of the Dunes. These were but three of the many t.i.tles accorded to the man respected and idolised by the hundreds of millions of citizens of the Kingdom - a Grand Mage newly ascended to the World Cla.s.s tier; who some said would be the first in untold generations to step into the Legendary Realm[1].
Murad was standing, serving with the utmost courtesy and a grateful expression while the handsome guest with flaxen-hair and a smooth, ageless face was seated in the Vizier"s personal armchair.
Despite his flawless skin which bore not a single wrinkle; the valiant and das.h.i.+ng guest seemed to bear the weight of great experience and many years. He carried himself with an air of refinement mixed with n.o.bility; but also exuded an aura of the self-confidence only the truly powerful bore. He was handsome; and from his demeanour, presumably middle-aged. His eyes were sharp and dominant; showing that he was accustomed to being accorded great honour and carrying corresponding authority.
He also wore a slight smile that, when coupled with his piercing, smouldering green eyes and chivalrous visage, had surely made many a lady swoon; and dozens more wet with desire for his gaze to linger upon them. Probably in the hopes that he would decide to do more than just lay his gaze on them.
"A woman-killer..."
Then Sarin smirked. If the overly handsome man really killed the women; then he himself wouldn"t mind to volunteer to dispose of the bodies... Then he could satisfy his unique tastes and... "Sample" them after they were already dead...
"Sickening...?" He smirked. Who cared...? Here in the Arena; he was almost equal to a king!
His thoughts returned to the guests status and ident.i.ty.
Worst of all; the invigilator could not sense an ounce of power or strength from the imposing middle-aged man. Which meant that either the man"s status was so high that power did not matter... Or he had transcendent strength so great that even a World-Cla.s.s expert like Vizier Murad, one of the pillars of the kingdom, could only bow and grovel before him.
The vizier humbly spoke with a gentle voice to his clearly esteemed guest. "Your Excellency, what do you think of the half-beastman Linges...? Despite his opponent being already weakened, it is no mean feat to eliminate the rank number 2 in just one move... That, and considering the fact that the girl would also be head and shoulders above all the previous year"s top rankers; even without considering her status..."
"Mmm..." The young man smiled and nodded non-committally; continuing to watch relaxedly.
He slowly turned his gaze onto the Vizier; this time a murderous, livid gaze, cold as the glaciers and tundras; enough to freeze over one"s heart and soul with just a glimpse.
"And... How do you know of the girl"s status...? If you know; does that not mean that the girl herself has found out by now...?" He spoke with a harsh, grating tone; this despite his voice being charming and deep; the ideal image of a paramountly masculine voice to every woman and man.
The vizier"s mouth opened and closed wordlessly; trembling; reeling from dismay at his wrongly chosen words. Despite all his wisdom; he was not able to discern every situation, nor every thought of his guest. Who could have known that what known as common knowledge among the upper echelons of society would incur the wrath of this imperious envoy of the Kingdom...?
"Y-y-your excell--excellency... I, I... She has no idea of it, I a.s.sure you. Even the rest of the management; even they have no ide-" Vizier Murad stumbled over his words, completely contrary to his usual eloquence matching his position of one near the top of the pyramid as a servant of the Kingdom.
"Hmm...?" The domineering man smiled; looking like one who was sitting enthroned before his lowly subjects; yet the smile did not reach his eyes. He maintained the disposition of a beast of prey; as if he were the overlord of all the Kingdom who would devour whom he desired.
Then he looked at Sarin.
"What about... Him...?" Softly; melodiously; he spoke ruinous words that spelt doom to the bald, muscular man.
Shocked; Sarin"s mind lurched in despondency.
Just then, as if in a dream, his mind was swallowed up by a pair of green, hawk-like eyes; capturing his soul and sucking into their gaze - eyes that seemed like they had locked onto a tender baby mouse; one that it would soon devour.
"C-can"t... Breathe..." He struggled; fighting with every fibre of his being to just draw in the next breath, to just live for one heartbeat longer. But it was useless; he could feel the killing intent laid on him; pressing him down; crus.h.i.+ng him like a snake that had already coiled itself around him and was about to *squeeze* and reduce him to a ma.s.s of pulverised flesh and bones...
And then the pressure was gone.
The bald man was left gasping for breath; when he regained his spirit, he was on his hands and knees, prostrated in the direction of the young cloaked man.
Then the man looked at the vizier with lazy, drooping eyelids; smiling and saying, "Murad, you should be careful; who knows when a prying servant might just become a... Snack..."
Invigilator Sarin could not help but suck in a deep breath as beads of cold sweat dripped down his bald pate; as he tried to mask the fact that he had wet his pant in terror; the pungent smell of urea pervading the room.
As he saw the young man wrinkle his nose and furrow his brows at the smell; the invigilator wished he could just disappear, run away forever.
He was scared.
Immediately he grovelled, begged, pleaded with snot mixed with tears inundating his ugly face.
He had no pride.
He was a survivor.
What was pride? Could you eat it?
He would snivel, prostrate himself to the lowest of the low; as long as he could survive.
To his relief, the middle-aged man paid no more attention to him. His gaze returned to the pool of water; watching lazily. Then his half-closed eyes widened for the first time; showing surprise.
"Oh...?" He sat up slightly as he caught sight of something that piqued his interest.
"A little white knight charging in to slay the dragon and save the princess is it...?"
He smiled.
*
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[1] Recap of the ranks, from high to low:
Divine
Semi-divine
Mythical
Legendary (Mikael is here)
World Cla.s.s (Vizier Murad is here)
Master (Invigilator Sarin is here)
Expert
Outstanding
Excellent
Normal