The chamber remained suffocatingly still. None of the five children dared to breathe too loud, their gazes fixed downward as the figure on the obsidian throne stared at them in silence. No one moved. No one blinked.
But within that perfect quiet, Sakura and Nikko were anything but calm.
Sakura’s thoughts spiraled into panic.
’Oh my stars... my hair!:
She instinctively flicked a glance at her reflection in one of the polished marble tiles. Her perfectly arranged pink locks now looked like the aftermath of a storm. She scanned her kimono, creased, slightly torn at the hem, and peppered with dirt.
’All that work... gone!!’
Nikko, on the other hand, seethed for an entirely different reason.
’Just one more attack,’ she thought, her fists clenching. ’JUST ONE!’
The fact that Sakura had almost landed a hit earlier, and had the nerve to smirk about it, still boiled her blood. Being summoned just before her finishing blow had robbed her of sweet vengeance, and it clawed at her insides.
Then,
"You may rise."
The Governor’s voice was calm yet laced with undeniable power, as though it carried the weight of the stars.
Imdiately, all five children echoed:
"Thank you, Father."
They rose in unison, posture flawless, movents sharp.
Only then did they allow themselves a full look at the man who cast such a long shadow over the Federation.
Even seated, the Governor’s form exuded godlike majesty. His bronze skin glead like sun-touched tal, rippling with strength. He bore four arms, each adorned with black and gold bracers engraved in Primordial glyphs. His golden hair fell straight to his back, neat and controlled, like everything else about him.
Though seated, it was clear, he was massive. At least four ters tall, and carved like a sculpture brought to life. But the aura... the sheer pressure that ca from him wasn’t just power, it was legacy.
Still, this was not the true Governor.
They all knew that.
It was one of his avatars, a projection of his will, mind, and power. The Governor rarely ever showed himself in person, preferring the solitude of his "special space", where only a select few could reach him. The avatars, however, were fully capable of enacting his will. And this one radiated enough pressure to silence even the most rebellious child.
The avatar’s eyes glowed dimly, then his voice echoed once more, deep, smooth, and unhurried:
"There is much to discuss."
After the Governor finished recounting his recent expedition in the Trial World, his tone as cold and commanding as everhe leaned forward on the bronze throne, four arms resting calmly on its massive armrests. His presence radiated authority, even through the gleaming bronze avatar seated before his children. A glint flickered in his eye.
"It is ti for your monthly tasks," he declared, his voice deep and resonant, like iron grinding against stone.
All five children snapped to full attention.
His gaze first landed on the eldest, Hiroshi, who stood with a composed posture, his sharp features highlighted by the polished lenses of his glasses. The Governor’s words ca like a judgnt passed:
"Hiroshi, you will be tasked with quelling an uprising in the Northern Sector. The Ashworths have grown bold. They’ve managed to birth a child with an Extraordinary Talent and have begun gathering supporters, so of whom we suspect are aligned with demon worshippers. I want that heir eliminated. Snuff out every ember of rebellion. Remind them: absolute might makes right."
Without hesitation, Hiroshi bowed his head slightly.
"Yes, Father."
The bronze gaze shifted to the second-born, Kenji, who straightened with quiet expectation.
"As for you, Kenji, " the Governor’s voice echoed with weight, "an SS-rank Altar has surfaced in the Trial World. You are to form a team and clear the Cataclysm difficulty. Our seers predict a high likelihood of obtaining a Legendary Art upon clearance."
Kenji placed a hand over his heart and responded with calm solemnity.
"May your will be done, Father."
The Governor’s attention now moved to the pair standing beside each other, Sakura and her younger brother, Ren.
"You two will be dispatched to the Southern Border. Intel suggests a horde of demons is amassing within one of the remote regions. Locate it. Eradicate it. Ensure no civilian lives are lost."
Ren’s response was breezy and light-hearted, "Got you, Dad," while Sakura’s voice was smooth and elegant:
"Your wish is my command, Father."
Then ca the final turn.
The Governor’s eyes, like molten bronze orbs, rested on the last child, Nikko Yakomoto, Supre Talent and pride of the eastern sector.
"Nikko," he said, pausing slightly, "you will be assigned to guarding duty."
A stillness swept through the chamber.
Nikko had already begun to lower her head, the respectful "Yes, Father" at the tip of her tongue. But then, she froze.
Her mind rewound his words. Guard duty?
Her head slowly lifted, her golden eyes locking onto the face of the bronze avatar that bore her father’s will.
And she said it.
Not a shout. Not a scream. Just a single word, edged in disbelief, simring with restrained outrage.
"What?"
Instant silence.
Even Hiroshi’s hands paused mid-adjustnt of his glasses.
Kenji tilted his head ever so slightly, eyes narrowing with interest.
Sakura blinked, lips twitching toward a smile.
As Ren broke the silence, "Oh boy, here we go again."
But Nikko didn’t care. Her jaw clenched tightly, her fists curled at her sides. Not because she feared the assignnt, but because of what it implied. Her blood boiled, not from disobedience, but from the fire of pride. This wasn’t a mission worthy of her strength. This was a leash.
And she knew it.
Ever since Nikko Yakomoto was young, her life had been a quiet, burning hell, an irony, considering she was the daughter of the most powerful man in the Federation, the Governor himself. But power, she had co to learn, did not equate to love, protection, or peace.
The source of her tornt was simple, unforgivable, in the eyes of her siblings and the elite society that worshiped bloodlines like gospel. Unlike the other children of the Governor, who were born of noble won or high-ranking wives, Nikko had been born to a concubine. But not just any concubine, a Grounder. A woman who had never awakened to the Trial Resonance, who held no rank, no prestige, no blessing from the world. A woman who, to the Federation’s highborn, wasn’t even considered fully human.
To the rest of the Yakomoto lineage, this was sacrilege.
The other children, the sons and daughters of elite blood, treated her existence as a stain upon the family na. But she was still a Yakomoto. No amount of disgust or whispered slurs could erase the fact that she carried the Governor’s blood, the blood of the first Supre Talent, the man who stood at the pinnacle of the Federation. That fact alone had earned her the right to live within the Federal Manor.
But "live" was a generous word.
From the mont she was brought to the manor, she had been tossed into a pit of wolves dressed in silk and arrogance.
Reviews
All reviews (0)