"So we are robbing the dead now," The Old Duke began as soon as he stomped into the antechamber, shoulders trembling with righteous indignation. "Have you no sha, Nox De Nier!"
The scorn in his voice few through one ear and out the other as Altair lowered his pen. He glanced up at the glaring Old Man. "Are they still attacking outside?"
"Of course they are!" The Old Duke announced. "They think you are soone nad—"
Altair raised a palm. "I know. Well, there isn't much I can do about it. Here is my question to you. Has the city Watch taken action, or are they still watching?"
At that, the Old Duke was silent for a second. Altair had always wondered where they were. Vastroph was the holy land of their king. For it not to be protected was not just an affront to his na but an insult to his nobleman and people.
"Don't do anything," Altair instructed.
"Don't you think I know that!" The Old Duke took a seat. "I've played the ga longer than you've been a sperm in your father's balls." he tsked. "Is it true?"
Altair's expression was poised when he responded. "I'll start with the rumors against the current king. If this keeps up, I will be taking drastic asures. I've already had a handful of powerful Nobleman I can manipulate."
For a long while, the Old Duke didn't say anything; he only sighed with a disparaging look, which showed his age, before it all vanished. He smiled once more, though there was a notable distance now. A deep disregard perated the room, making it seem they were four paces apart when, in reality, it was a re three feet.
For an instant, Altair had the urge to explain that he had planned to resurrect Nox as one of his Forsaken. His grandson would live and would reach higher than anyone on this planet could comprehend. However, Altair wasn't sure how that might affect the Trial the Tower produced.
He sighed, too, forcing a smile that didn't quite et his eyes, cold and equally distant. "Is that all?"
"Yes…" He said, taking his leave through the door as Raven rejoined him.
"I've delivered Ye'vanna, Your Grace," Raven said with a peculiar face.
"What is it now?"
"Well… there are quite a few n and won… especially won with gifts outside."
Altair blinked. "Say what now?"
"They are apparently here to pay tribute. You are, after all, the Son of the Second Infernal Monarch and the Lady of Night. It would seem that there quite a few seeking to swear an oath to you or—"
"Damn it, where is Syris when you need her." The last thing Altair wanted to do was deal with bureaucracy. "Send them in… I'll deal with it all. How long do you expect that'll take?"
"Hmmm, a week, maybe. If the numbers keep growing, perhaps six months."
"Hmmmm, have dusa create my schedule. She shouldn't have any problem—" Altair ate his words when he saw Artemis flash into his room. Her eyes locked onto his with notable anger.
"You had a hot spring in the Palace of Sygian! And you didn't tell !"
It was only then that Altair noticed how damp her silvery hair was. She was practically glistening. He laughed, throwing his hands up. "It was made with the residue of an angel feather. I have my very own Calem Spring Water. You like it?"
Sparkles danced along Artemis' eyes as she nodded. "It's one of the best I've ever had. But I'm surprised you can handle all that Divinity."
Altair tilted his head. "Divinity? What are you…."
"You don't know? Well, I'd be damned. I'd heard of the magical effects of an angel feather, but I never experienced it for myself. They say the wings of an angel are a conduit of their power. They can do without them, but it leaves them practically defenseless for a long ti if they ever lose their wings until they can adapt. But from what I understood, high-level angel wings beco able to produce inexhaustible parallel energy to their user."
Artemis' doe-like eyes glowed. "That ans the Calem Springs you were talking about can never really run dry. They'll always be filled with power. Always! Unless they've been sealed or sothing. Art, do you realize what this ans? Those springs are refining your soul. They're purifying it in ways you cannot even imagine. I wouldn't be surprised if they granted you a Chaos Cycle of Lifeforce or, better yet, made it easier for you to comprehend the Seven Sins and Virtues. Can I really use such a valuable treasure!"
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Altair wasn't sure if he should laugh or cry. The woman had already taken a bath in his hot spring. What was the point in asking now? Still, he smiled. "You're more than welco to do whatever you please."
Before Altair could say more, Artemis vanished, most likely going back to the hot springs for another dip, he shook his head, now a little curious how those waters might affect a god. To his knowledge, not everyone followed the Path of Sin and Virtue, even if every sentient creature followed such a path in their daily life. Altair couldn't really see Artemis following Sin, but instead a Virtue if she hadn't already begun on such a path.
"Well, it's none of my business, but she'll owe for this."
Raven eyed him up and down. "When was the last ti you visited those waters."
"Too long. I've been too busy. But I might make the trip back in the coming months. I want to train the Godheads." Recalling that Almighty power, Altair gave an involuntary shiver, unsure how such a power could exist in his body without killing him. For such a power that phisto had to intervene and then forbade made him eager to try out.
"Alright, let's begin… Send in the first ten… guests that want to make tribute or whatever."
Raven smirked. "I'm not a maid, you know. Get Hilda or dusa to do it. I'm here to protect you, not wipe your ass."
To say Altair wasn't gaping would be a lie. Suddenly, he exploded into a fit of laughter. "Well damn!" Lifting her head up with a single finger across the chin, Altair grinned, sizing up the woman as if he were seeing her for the first ti. Those athyst eyes t his gaze verbatim. She was dead serious.
"Good. Very Good. Fine."
"You're not mad?"
Altair shrugged, lowering his finger. "You're not a maid. You're a guardian. And I haven't been treating you as such. Forgive . I'll try to rember your position next ti."
A slight reddening of the cheeks appeared to line Raven's flesh. She squatted Altair's palm, apparently annoyed. He wasn't quite sure what that was about but still grinned.
"You're cute when you're all red." He left it at that. Before she could say more, Altair shouted for Hilda, the Sword Maid for the day.
She appeared like a ghost, with a brooding expression as if he had just interrupted sothing.
"What?" Explaining what he needed, Hilda sighed, "Let go wash up first…"
Altair tilted his head. From what he could see, Hilda was clean. So why would…Shaking his head, realizing he didn't really care, he said, "Whatever, just get it done. "
For the next two months, Altair was glued to his chair as he t hundreds of people a day, so offering him gifts, others welcoming in him as servants of the Infernal Monarchs or Archangels of the Heavens. By the ti a month had passed, Altair needed an entire new warehouse simply to place everything. It was tis like these when he missed the Palace of Sygian that could infinitely create space.
Others who were allowed in were those who sought to challenge him in battle to test their tal, using his Master's na as reason enough. Those that did all died the mont they stepped into the ring. Those who simply asked for a friendly spar were left alive with hardly an injury.
During this ti, Ashara and her band of succubus had successfully taken over the Red Light District, controlling nearly all forms of adult entertainnt. The number of noblen that Ashara had wrapped around her finger had been so great that Altair simply stopped asking, allowing her full authority over such matters. Not that she didn't have that authority already.
Between growing his kingdom and dealing with another, Altair understood why so Emperors across the Myriad Heavens had 'kings' that worked under them. He would soon have to do the sa. The only question was who he trusted most to accomplish such things without wasting so much manpower.
"In Old Earth, there were stories about a kingdom that grew so large it collapsed beneath its weight. I can't allow that." Altair told himself, lifting his head towards his five Sword Maids who were running around the antechamber.
He smiled, unsure what this strange feeling in his chest was. Ever since the Outerworlders started their efforts to kill him, Altair had enjoyed every bit of the chaos, unable to keep still as long as there was always a fire to extinguish. Between people trying to kill him, growing sanctions against Earth, or trouble with the Consortium of Genisis, Altair felt the need for rest being extinguished and the pull of Soul Exhaustion beginning to slow.
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