Just as Othorman had said, Hans was busy coordinating the cleaning outside:
People were getting up and moving the tables away, so were sweeping the ground and others were doing chores here and there.
Amidst it all, the human kids ran around, playing.
Plates and bowls scattered sparsely across the grounds, stools and chairs stood overhead. It was a ss but sowhat warm sight to behold.
It made Raith miss and want to go back to Antarctica as quickly as he could.
He getting more determined to fight the Sky lord and win. It was his only way out of this damn place after all. And it had to be quick, since he didn’t want Thard - Harl to catch wind of anything.
He stopped in the open ground between the main building and the gate, the area had been cleared and the last of the tables were being carried away by so group of soulless that greeted him respectfully.
Sotis Raith looked at them, looked at his dark soldiers and looked at the people of Therut, and just questioned.
’What in the world do they see in that I don’t?!’
It made no sense why these people were so respectful to him. Accepted him, no questions asked. Was he supposed to believe that it was just because he was strong.
Nah, the world didn’t work that way, sure it gave privilege and power to strong ones but it didn’t revolve around them. Being strong was definitely not a pass to freely having everything.
If so... was it fate?
Things like destiny and fate had never been words in Raith’s book. After what the archons did with his destiny and how everything changed, he didn’t even consider it a thing.
But these seemingly coincidences that fall out to put him in the position of a leader, over and over again. What should he call if if not fate?
But the thought of it made him even more comfortable. If it really was fate then who was weaving it? The gods? The angels? The primordials?
So far, those were the three strongest race that Raith felt could be powerful enough to govern such concepts like fate... destiny, hope... desire.
It was all too much complications and since day one he had avoided wanting to think about it. He just wanted to avoid everything that had to do with the celestials, the gods and the primordials.
Thinking about now was even beginning to stress the hell out of him.
Reeves, Jackal and Audrey walked towards them with a stern expression on their faces.
"They’re here..." The blonde soulless lady spoke coldly.
She was wearing a black linen gown that kissed her figures, a white sword was hung on her lips with her hand rested on it.
Jackal was serious for once, his thick brows furrowed viciously, as jovial as his face looked yesterday’s night it was unbelievable to imagine such a fearso expression his face.
Of all of them Raith was the one that seed unperturbed. He just looked in different, his hands hidden in his pocket.
A few monts later, there was no one. But Raith was sure that by now the sky lord should be at the door, they had expected that his soldiers would suddenly blast the door into smithereens.
But It was like a half dozen minutes later and there was still a vrave silence shrouding the entire place. Making tension hang heavily in the atmosphere.
Then Raith frowned.
’Sothing is wrong...’
His eyes narrowed to a slit, one of them subtly shifting from pitch black to a daunting scarlet.
He was right sothing was wrong... the entire place was calm. Too calm, where and why had the sky not arrived.
’...he has’
Raith was sure he has but there was no hint of him around. If that was the case, there was only one thing he needed to do.
Constantly, he was hiding [force] because of its trendous power. But unleashing it should be able to make him sense even soone like Othorman.
Now it was such a conflicting thing to do because he didn’t know exactly who he would be alerting.
’Ah, darn it’
Raith breathed and...
...
Raith took a deep breath, the exhale signaling a shift in the atmosphere. Suddenly, a chilling pressure descended, bearing down on everyone in its vicinity.
Despite their efforts to stand firm, many succumbed, dropping to their knees or even collapsing completely the mont Raith released his [force].
Outstanding guys like Jackal, Reeves and the other bounty hunting cohorts were still standing.
Unfortunately, Reeves seed to be doing a worse job at withstanding the whole pressure than Jackal was.
His face contorted grimly. Darkened blood seeped from his tightly pressed lips, tracing a path down his jaw.
Ignoring the gasping n, Raith strode forth, form blurring with uncanny speed. He appeared before the pillar barring their path to the entrance and swung with casual grace. Wood exploded, the intricate column disintegrating as if struck by a teor.
The wind blew aggressively and the visage of the sky lord tore out of it.
Beyond, the crumbling entrance, hovered the Sky Lord.
He now wore the guise of a striking man with chiseled features and penetrating eyes the hue of sunset. Silvery hair fell neatly to his shoulders, clothed in robes of rich azure. Power rolled from him in palpable waves.
He surveyed the devastation with a neutral expression, though eyes like sharpened steel stripped those before him to their core. His beauty and poise resembled a statue more than a living being - precise, cold, and utterly without rcy.
’Fuck, he’s handso!’
As Raith beheld the visage of the sky lord, the pressure intensified.
Several more n whimpered as they were forced to prostrate. Reeves grimaced, buckling to one knee with a choked grunt.
Jackal couldn’t compress the blood in his mouth anymore, he coughed out a sprinkle of blood and shakily tried to stand.
Only Othorman and the soulless lady remained standing tall, though blood sheeted freely down the lady’s neck, her arms trembling with effort.
Raith throwing a glance at the sufferings the soulless were going through quickly withdrew his [force] and flew back away from the sky lord.
In less than a fraction of second, the point he was initially standing exploded into cracks as the sky lord landed there, a thin smile adorning his face.
"You must be the leader of the soulless. I hear you are a player... how co I have never heard about you?" He asked, cocking his head nacingly.
"And you are uglier than I expected."
’He has finer hair than I do!’
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