Parallel (A Virtual Gamer's Story) [Vol.1 - Vol.4 Complete]

Chapter 92: The High Council

Second Under's High Council comprised the chiefs of the largest clans in the town. Each man or woman in the council earned their place through hard-fought battle or overwhelming public support. In all of Second Under, these were the only ones capable of reigniting a fire in the dwarves. These people were more than just chiefs. They were icons, almost revered as gods by the dwarfs, and they had the presence to back it up.

Kashi coolly met the steely gazes of the men seated in threes on either side of a long rectangular table designed to sit at least twenty people. Unusually (for a dwarven meeting), the table was devoid of anything to eat or drink. Who could blame them? If the tension was a meal, there was more than enough to feed them all, and then some.

Kashi turned his gaze to the splendidly large chamber. Meticulous detail was focused on the walls and pillars, all with an almost shiny, varnished look. The remains of a stone throne sat far at an elevated platform at the north end, shattered, probably to represent the demise of the dwarven hierarchy. The dwarves would gaze at the broken throne with misty eyes that remembered a much better time. But then they would snap right back at their loathed enemy with red fury.

Kashi weathered their burning gazes. He inspected the guards—no, mini-militia—that guarded the meeting. His display at the coliseum had bought some over the top caution from the dwarves. Not that it mattered too much. The guards he could handle, but this number of people should have certainly gotten the Order's attention.

A glance at the chiefs confirmed no uncertainty on their part. They equally hated Kashi with apt attention. There was none of that wariness that comes from having an illegal meeting with a chance of being caught. Well, if there was no danger of being caught by the Order, then he could relax and focus on the task ahead.

But first...

To set the right mood.

Dark aura exploded from Kashi, then streamed to every corner of the hall, drowning all in its choking authority. Only Zeing was unaffected, the rest almost crumbling under the intense pressure.

To Kashi's right, Zuri's brows furrowed, as if contemplating a potentially irritating problem. She looked up at Kashi. "Is Kashi doing something? Zuri's feeling a little itchy."

Oi, Oi. Kashi barely managed to keep a straight face. This was a full release of his aura. And she was only slightly itchy? Just how strong was this girl? With a little training, who knew where her limits lay.

Having seen enough, and eager to let the chiefs save face, Zeing tapped Kashi's left shoulder. "That's enough."

Kashi reined in his aura. "Well then, I do believe greetings are in order." A smile tugged the corner of his lips at the new emotion in those eyes. The hatred was still there, clear as day, but now there was something new mixed in. Fear. These dwarves now feared his strength. And that, for him, was the equivalent of clearing the first stage in a dungeon quest.

There were six chiefs at the table. In order from the right side of the table, they were Breixo Rocha, the oldest of the bunch. His beard was as red as lava, long and very bushy. His abrasive nature had earned him the nickname 'Lava Bear.' Anton Xafier was the youngest, but one of the wisest. Sharp eyes and a neatly braided beard projected a man of purpose. At only sixty-three, he was touted to be the next dwarven king, if they were ever free of the Order.

Otto Knutsen was chief of The Hands, the primary crafting clan of the dwarves. The Hands devoted their time to creating and crafting new and exciting inventions. But, unfortunately, the Order put a stop to all of that.

Yngvar Kermode led the warrior clan. Most of the guards present belonged to this clan/ Yngvar's heavy leather armor, and the man-sized mallet by his side emphasized his authority.