206 The Flow Of Ti [1]
[2 months later.] [At an unknown island] The catling sound of the shoe hitting the marble floor echoed within a silent palace.
The palace had old, enormous paintings hanging on the walls.
The hallway stretched as a beautiful woman with long silver hair cascading down her back and bright silver eyes walked through it.
She exuded power with every graceful step she took.
One of the head mbers of the Thorja ancient family.
Cisne Frialna Thorja.
Her eyes turned towards her side, where an old man walked just a step behind her.
"Any idea why we were called, Sir John?" she asked, her voice sharp but still respectful.
The old man, wearing a butler's outfit, shook his head. "I have no idea, Lady Cisne."
Cisne slightly nodded her head in response.
Her mind swirled with a myriad of thoughts.
But in the end, she couldn't see any reason for an ergency gathering.
'That too from Father.'
She thought, thinking about the future headache it was going to cause.
The hallway slowly started to stretch, leading them to a throne room.
The room was already filled with people, with seats neatly arranged along the edges, almost thirty in total.
At the very end of the room, a huge throne lay.
The man sitting on it looked to be in his mid-fifties, with long grey hair and a beard that touched his chest.
His bored expression road around the room while his head rested on his hand, a gentle smile etched on his face.
Larkin Frialna Thorja.
The current head of the Thorja ancient family.
"Father."
Cisne quickly kneeled down in front of him, and so did her butler.
They both kept their gaze down, waiting for the man to speak.
"Arise, my daughter."
With another bow towards her father, she quickly turned around, taking her seat at the very end of the room.
The room remained silent as Larkin blankly looked at everyone.
His gaze moved from his siblings to his sons and daughters, then towards his grandchildren.
The corner of his lips curled up slightly as he whispered softly.
"Pathetic."
Everyone in the room flinched at his words.
Those who had known him for years grew pale, already knowing what was about to happen.
Larkin still wore a smile as he continued, "Every single one of you is pathetic and worthless."
His sharp criticism echoed in the hall, making all of them lower their heads.
"I have no hopes for you people," he said, shaking his head. "The ancient Thorja family will surely be buried along with ."
'What happened this ti?' Cisne wondered, glancing at him from the corner of her eyes.
She couldn't understand the sudden outrage from her father.
Thankfully, soone raised their hand to ask.
"Did sothing happen, Brother?" Baren asked, his voice barely audible.
Even though he was the head of a branch family and Larkin's brother, he couldn't bring himself to raise his head in front of him.
Larkin smiled, staring at the ceiling once again.
A single sheet of paper slowly levitated in the air.
The paper began moving through the hands of every family mber.
And the mont they read the words, their expressions grew paler.
At last, it reached Cisne. Her eyes scanned the words written on it.
"You will pay for ssing with my family, Larkin. Your best friend, Edern." Cisne's chest tightened imdiately as she read the na.
Edern. The one who ssed with her family so much that she was scared even to rember him.
The one who was the 'supposed' bodyguard of his sister,
Stephanie Frialna Thorja.
"Are you seeing this?"
He asked, laughing heartily while reading the letter.
"He is calling himself my best friend, BEST FRIEND."
'...This isn't good.' Cisne thought, trembling slightly at his behavior.
Despite being at the early stage of ascension level, she still felt suffocated in his presence.
Why would she not?
Larkin was one of the few demigods still living in this world.
He abruptly quieted down once again, staring blankly at the ceiling.
"Morso," he mumbled.
"Y-yes, Father."
A man in his mid-thirties abruptly stood up from his seat.
He was Larkin's eldest son, who survived the 'massacre.' that killed the rest.
"What did we actually do to his family?" Larkin asked as if he wasn't the one who ordered it.
"W-we t-tornted whom w-we thought was his son," Morso stamred, his gaze boring into the floor.
Larkin nodded twice. "Who was the one responsible for it?"
Morso swallowed his saliva as he quietly whispered, "Uncle Vexor."
Everyone's gaze turned towards the old man sitting beside Larkin.
Even though Vexor was younger than Larkin, he looked significantly older.
With his face full of wrinkles and hair turned completely grey from stress.
"Vexor, my dear brother," Larkin smiled, staring at him. "What have you done?"
Vexor could only blankly stare at him.
He had no words to say, nor would that change anything.
The mont Larkin targets soone, he finds insignificant reasons to tornt them.
"How could you do this to my dear friend's family?" Larkin asked, his face almost as if tearing up. "How could you?"
'...He has gone insane.'
Cisne ntally sighed, glancing at her father.
He wasn't always like this.
Soone who was respected by everyone.
But it all changed when 'that man' ca into this family.
He alone tornted her father with things that shouldn't affect him.
He harassed a demigod so much to the point he has gone senile.
It was absurd to think as a demigod is ntally just below the gods.
"Tell , Vexor!" Larkin snapped, slamming his hand on the armrest.
"I will take any punishnt you give," Vexor quietly said without arguing.
He had already been through the sa situation multiple tis.
Just because he couldn't kill 'that man' when he was at his weakest.
Larkin smiled brightly before he turned towards Morso. "Make sure he is properly taken care of."
"Y-yes, father," he replied, nodding his head.
"Anyway," clapping his hands, Larkin gazed at the younger generation. "Any new talent who thinks he can beat my best friend?"
'No, not this again.'
Cisne's gaze trembled as she looked at the old man.
She had seen the sa situation multiple tis.
And none of them were pleasant.
So, she hurriedly stood up.
"Father, actually..."
"Cisne."
"Y-yes."
"Did I give you permission to talk?" Still smiling, Larkin asked.
Cisne slowly sank back into her seat.
ntally, she prayed no one would be foolish enough to step forward.
"Grandfather."
One boy confidently raised his hand.
He was a handso young boy with long silver hair and eyes.
Cisne's heart sank as she looked at the young man walking to the center of the room.
"What's your na, dear?" Larkin asked with the sweetest smile he could muster.
"Oren, grandfather," he replied with a light bow.
Cisne recognized the na.
She rembered talking to him once.
'...No way, he is going after that.'
"Oren, my boy. Why do you think you can beat him?" Larkin asked, standing up from his seat.
"I am already at the peak of origin level at only twenty-one," he replied with a prideful smile. "If the family invests in , I can easily reach a level higher than 'that man.'"
"I see," Larkin replied, raising his finger. "Then dodge this."
A spark of lightning rushed through his finger.
"Urgh!!"
Oren groaned as the lightning entered his body, imdiately paralyzing him.
His body fell down, spasming every other second.
Larkin gently kneeled beside him as he grabbed Oren's hair to raise his head.
"Why couldn't you dodge that, son?" he asked, with a light smile.
Oren tried to say sothing, but his mouth refused to move.
He could only tremble as Larkin stared into his eyes.
But, mustering all his strength, Oren slowly whispered, "I-I wasn't ready—"
Cisne imdiately shut her eyes.
CRACK!!!
A sound of sothing breaking echoed within the room.
Oren felt his cheek burning like never before.
It felt so painful that his mind turned numb.
With his hazy eyes, he looked at Larkin's face reaching closer to his.
Only then did he notice his face was scraped against the wall.
"Why did you lie?"
Larkin asked, rubbing his face on the rough surface.
Bang!
He slamd Oren's face against the wall.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
"Why! Why! Why!"
Larkin asked as he repeatedly slamd his head against the wall.
Oren's blood vessels broke, blood spilling out of them.
His eyes turned swollen with no focus.
Bang!
Banging his head one last ti, he lowered his body.
Larkin blinked.
His deanor changed as he looked at Oren with confused eyes.
Tears started trickling down his face.
"Soone call for help!" he yelled, kneeling down to embrace the boy. "He is injured!"
"Hey, Oren, my boy," he whispered, tears trickling down his face.
"Don't you die. You said you would take care of 'that man.' Don't you dare die!"
But his words had no aning.
Oren was already dead.
Noticing it, Larkin embraced him tightly.
Oren's blood soaked his clothes, but he didn't care.
"Cisne," he whispered through his crying.
"Y-yes, father."
"'That man' made kill my precious boy," he said, tenderly holding Oren. "M-my l-little boy."
"..."
Cisne just stood there, hiding her disgust.
'Thorja family is dood.'
"I want revenge," he whispered, the palce chill down imdiately. "I want to bring justice to my grandson."
Cisne swallowed hard as she softly asked, "What do you want to do?"
"Bring his head," Larkin replied with a soft smile.
"Bring Eden's head."
'Just as Larkin said.' Cisne thought while nodding. 'Thorja family will be buried along with him.'
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