CHAPTER 33: LOOMING THREATS

"Peasant. We finally meet again."

A voice filled with anger echoed across the empty hall. Charles stood up from against the wall and walked exactly in front of Hermes. His colossal body caused Hermes to tilt his neck back so that he could look him in the eyes. He decided to voice himself clearly.

"Move."

Refusing to heed his words, Charles de Verdier, a proud noble, continued to block the path forward. Words that oozed with disgust and anger lashed out against him.

"You bastard. Who the fuck do you think you are? Not only have you consistently gotten on my nerves, but you also had the audacity to speak to Elizabeth in front of everyone."

"Hm? So you were mad? Why did you not approach us in the courtyard then? Were you so afraid of embarrassing yourself in front of everyone that you decided to confront me here by yourself?"

"YOU-"

"Stop bothering me. I don't care what kind of relationship you have with Elizabeth. It does not concern me." Indifference overflowed out of Hermes' eyes. He was not even slightly afraid of the titanic man before him.

Facing Ming Xue had completely shifted his perspective. True power, in his opinion, no longer comes from words, but from action. The man standing in front of him may sound scary, but Hermes had already experienced what true fear was like. He had faced a bottomless abyss and survived the experience.

"I told you not to speak to Elizabeth! She is bound by fate to become my spouse!"

'Pfff, 'Fate' he says… How Ironic…' suppressing his desire to laugh, Hermes spoke apathetically:

"Dumbass, do I look like I care?"

Before Charles could voice his anger once more, Hermes interrupted him. Hints of coldness pierced daggers through his heart.

"Also, I may not care about your relationship with Elizabeth, but I do care about my friends. Elizabeth is her own person. You can call her your bride or whatever other disgusting fantasies you have going in that small brain of yours, but I will not allow you to harm her. If she refuses your advances but you continue to pester her, I'll make sure you go through hell."

Faint amounts of cosmic force oozed out in waves from Hermes' body and penetrated through Charles' skin. He began to sweat profusely as his muscles tensed up, leaving him slightly paralyzed in fear. This was the Cosmic Force Suppression Arthur had spoken of.

"Yo-you! D-do you know wha-t y-you are d-doing right n-now?! This is a d-disgrace towards t-the Verdier Family! I-I will not let y-you get away with this!"

Hermes smiled at his declaration. "Verdier Family this, Verdier Family that. I honestly do not care at all. I heard from Commander Arthur that your family voted against me even being in the city. It's not like I can forge a relationship with them at all. And even if I can, I refuse to dabble my hands with the same people who can give birth to an idiot like you."

"You bastard!"

"Yeah, yeah. Keep talking. Honestly, I do not understand how people like you can even exist. You think of yourself as some god that no mortal can touch. Everyone is beneath you. Everyone should respect you, blah blah blah. How did you even formulate this mentality? If I was a psychologist, I would love to probe your brain."

Hermes amplified his cosmic force suppression, causing Charles to drop to his knees. Seeing this, Hermes reached his arm in his direction and grabbed him by the hair.

"Listen up asshole. You are no one. You are nothing special. You are just another human being that eats and shits like the rest of us. Get your head out of the toilet. Do you think being a Celestial or having a family as powerful as yours is something to brag about? Anyone with a brain can touch an Elysian Monolith and become powerful. Even fucking animals can do it."

"Y-you! So wh-what i-if anyone can b-become a Guardian! M-my f-family is o-one th-that was blessed b-by the Monarch of Wisdom! We-we are God's chosen people!"

"Oh? God's Chosen People? So I am guessing this God of yours will come and save you from me, won't he?"

"..."

Fear ran marathons across his body. It was the same fear he felt when Hermes punched the machine during the examinations. His arrogance and ego clouded his mind and made him forget what kind of person he was dealing with. Although Hermes still lacked precise control over his powers as a Celestial, he had learned to channel his thoughts into moving his cosmic force in the way he wanted.

Cosmic Force can be thought of as a vessel for emotions. One can coat emotions inside it and project it outwardly for others to feel. This is how experienced users can make their opponents feel bloodthirst or killing intent to intimidate them. Hermes was trying to mimic this technique, but because he was currently feeling apathy for the situation, his emotions were not as easily visible.

Sweat began to permeate across Charles' body. Although Hermes was holding back from completely knocking him out unconscious, he still wanted to instill as much fear in him as possible. Fear that would make it impossible for Charles to bother him again.

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After Hermes learned about the Disharmony Wars, he realized how disgusting the Verdier family was. There was no hope for Sanctuary City if they continued to create a large divide between the citizens.

Hermes wanted to get stronger quickly and increase his rank within the Guardians to have more say in the city's politics. He had realized that playing nice with the Verdier family would provide him no advantages whatsoever. All of his ideas and ambitions go against their philosophy of being blood supremacists.

Although the Lysange and Césaire families also believe to be blessed by the Monarch of Wisdom, they are much more progressive in their thinking. Hermes was already able to somewhat befriend members from both easily.

Letting go of his hair, Charles' head dropped to the floor. He had completely lost all strength in his body; it looked as if he was prostrating in front of Hermes.

Turning around, Hermes walked toward the other side of the corridor, but not before giving the arrogant man one last warning.

"If you do not want this to happen to you, never approach me again. I do not have time for your childish antics. Go think of yourself as a noble prince somewhere else."

…

The Spire, 10 Elder Counsel round table.

Spread around the ring-shaped table were luminescent candles that carried with them many kinds of enigmatic fragrances. The mottled and grungy table housed 10 seats that were scattered around its circumference equidistant from one another.

An atmosphere of mystique and arcane proportions spread out across the room as the chandelier light hung at the center. The dim light danced mysteriously, giving the sensation that the room was the meeting place for the occult.

Sitting at the seats were 10 figures, each cloaked in magnificent clothing, both ancient and modern. The cold and silent atmosphere was interrupted by the voice of a young man.

"Sigh, can you old farts agree to something already? Or is it because all of you are old enough that it doesn't matter what happens 10 years from now?"

"Luke, have some respect." A middle-aged man wearing a robe tunic that housed an assortment of colors and engravings spoke coldly to him. His lustrous blue eyes hid a torrent of emotion.

Hearing Parviz's words, Luke grinned nonchalantly. He lifted his feet and placed them on the table as he leaned back in his chair. "You do you. I'll just take a nap until you guys can come to a consensus."

Unlike before, his jet-black hair was not tied into a ponytail. It was clear to everyone in the room that he was going through his weekly lazy spell.

"Hmph, I cannot say I am surprised. You peasants all lack any class." Thomas de Verdier crossed his arms in anger.

Seeing this, Luke shrugged in his direction. "Sigh, why is your voice so ugly? I say it lacks more class than my entire existence."

"YOU-"

"Enough."

Simon Césaire, in his black military uniform that was adorned with all sorts of accolades and medals, spoke up. He began stroking his blonde-trimmed beard slowly.

"Let us return to the topic at hand. After the takeover 40 years ago, the Voidseekers have become far more powerful than before. They control the entirety of the Underbelly, unlike their fragmented past."

A woman with long blonde hair and skin that was smooth for her age nodded in agreement.

"Yes, dear... That dreaded incident caused it all… Although the ceasefire agreement has held up fairly well so far, their actions have been more aggressive lately." Victoria Césaire began rubbing her temples to ease the anxiety clouding her mind.

"We cannot allow them to do as they please. We must initiate a preemptive strike before they are fully ready to attack us!" Agnes Sinclair used the opportunity to voice his opinion on the matter. "My processing company has been seeing more and more losses lately."

Hearing his comments, Thomas decided to add fuel to the fire that Agnes had started. "Indeed, it is sad that they do not understand the grace we offer them. We must teach them who is truly in charge in this city."

"Fool! We must not be rash in our judgment. Inciting violence will only anger them further. Are you trying to start another Disharmony War?" Hints of anger radiated from a woman with short, curly-bobbed white hair. The impatience in her gray irises grew as she voiced her disdain against Thomas openly.

Seeing this, Thomas could not let her remark fly.

"Old Witch, how can you have the audacity to speak when it was your family that started the last Disharmony War? Hmph, what a damn hypocrite."

"You-"

"Stop it." Parviz's cold-hearted voice rang across the room.

Seeing the developments unfolding, The Humble Hermit, Joseph Hastings sighed.

"Everyone. We are currently facing threats from both inside and outside our borders. I know how stressful the situation is, but we must all remain calm and collected. It seems that no one can change their stances on this subject." He turned his head to face Cecilia Fitzroy.

"I suggest we issue a vote and end the matter here."

Cecilia nodded her head in agreement. "Alright, those in favor of taking an aggressive stance on the Voidseekers, raise your hand."

…

After arriving at the library, Hermes spent his time finishing more books on the history of Sanctuary City. His confrontation with Charles had made him curious about the noble houses and their developments.

After the clock hit 9:30, he closed the book in his hand and stood up. He had grown fond of the carpeted floor in the aisles. It reminded him of his college days.

Stepping out of the history section, Hermes saw Elizabeth sitting at the same table she had sat at the night before with him. A frown covered his face. Although Hermes was not a completely emotionally intelligent person, he could tell just how anxious she was feeling from the way she expressed herself.

Looking past her mesmerizing blonde hair and enchanting pink eyes, her skin, which was as white as snow, had hints of exhaustion. Her delicate hands, which she would elegantly place on her lap, were fidgeting around on top of the table.

Hermes walked up toward her direction and sat opposite her on the table. In a calm tone, he voiced his query.

"What was it that you needed to talk to me about, Miss Lysange?"

It was unsure whether Hermes' presence helped, but her voice became more calm as she stated her reasoning.

"A new development occurred with my ability…"

"Hm? What do you mean?"

Taking a deep breath, Elizabeth jerked her head upwards as she began staring down into Hermes' eyes. Noticing her gaze, Hermes began to look back into her eyes as well; both parties were locked in a staring competition.

Noticing the awkwardness of the situation, Hermes decided to break the silence.

"Uh, so what kind of development occurred?"

Elizabeth nodded her head gracefully.

"The strings… They all changed colors."

"Huh? Who's strings…"

Looking down, the symphony in her voice almost cracked under the weight of fear which was invading her heart.

"E-everyone's… Everyone in the city's strings changed color… Every person from young to old..."

Hermes' eyes furrowed. His heart began to beat faster and faster. He decided to clear his doubts immediately.

"What… Color?"

Taking a pause, Elizabeth straightened out her thoughts before answering his question. Her adorable pink-hued irises held a hint of gray but also a layer of hysteria. Her frown became deeper the moment she voiced her response.

"Purple…"

End of Chapter