The Refuge of Fate

Chapter 33 - Underworld

"Greetings, your majesty." All the people inside the room lowered their heads in synch with his entrance.

"Greetings, everyone. I'm pleased to see all of you here," he responded and they smiled in joy after being recognized by the strongest wielder of magic.

In a long table, he sat on the head seat while the other members also went to their respective places on each side. The noise of small chatter echoed through the place like murmurs along the wind.

"It seems like something has been bothering you, your majesty," one vampire whom he identified as Claire spoke.

Claire had long beautiful purplish hair that reached onto her waist. Her curves were on point and she was probably the most attractive person in the room.

Next to him of course.

Others could clearly see how Claire's eyes sparkled in admiration while looking at the handsome white-haired king.

"Ah, do I give it away?" He asked and Claire nodded her head. The other people silently agreed with her.

It may not be physically visible but the people of magic could acquire a small hint of what the young king was feeling based on his expression alone.

The way his eyebrow twitched for a split second, the way he had sighed two times for the last two minutes, and how he tried to hand his finger taps on his leg under the table.

"We may not have come directly from your blood, your majesty but we are also your third-line descendants after you have changed our race," Chray, who was sitting on the opposite side of the table near Pier spoke.

"Third in line? Who's the first and second one?" The white-haired sovereign inquired and the people of magic looked at each other as if it wasn't obvious already.

"First in line would be your children with His Majesty, King Ciaran, your majesty. Second would be other people who are related by blood or bound to your soul." The king's eyebrows raised at the statement.

"Bound to my soul?"

But before the people could respond, someone came inside the place where they were gathered.

"My liege!"

"Such as his grace, your majesty."

Pier unknowingly smiled when he saw Gideon march toward him with a happy look. He could see that Gideon had been improving so much in the previous months that he was already thinking the knight could reach more achievements in the future.

He remembered the first time he met Gideon, a young yet talented knight who surrendered himself to death when faced with a magical beast.

'He probably would just walk miles away towards those beasts now and they'd run away.' Pier snickered at the thought which made the swordmaster tilt his head in confusion; similar to how a puppy tilts its head when curious.

"Do I look funny, my liege?" Gideon asked and he looked at his clothes. He then sniffed himself if there were any unpleasant odors but he found none.

"You do not look funny, Gideon. Come, sit beside me."

By only looking at the empty space beside him, white and red flames appeared out of thin air and then formed a translucent seat which made Gideon's eyes gleam in astonishment.

"Wow!" He ran to the translucent seat and he instantly felt himself getting rejuvenated as if he was sitting on a miraculous chair that heals all wounds.

Well, he really was sitting on a chair made out of magic that could heal all wounds.

"You must've been exhausted from your training," the white-haired king spoke out and Gideon, who was already slumped up in his seat and drifting off to sleep, nodded his head weakly.