Brilliant lights, a cacophony of instrunts, and dancing couples, each grabbing a decent amount of attention. Amidst them all, Thane found himself dazzled.
He was slightly behind the trio. John and Max wore plain white and Huma Bird masks, respectively.
They beca busy, judging, inspecting, and asuring the worth of present guests.
Hawk was the one who noticed the absence of Thane. He turned his head around and caught Thane moving his head left and right, as if he had tics.
He heard about Ironforge and their upbringing. Everything here was new to Thane.
Be that as it may, if one got the hint that he was the son of Count Thomas Ironforge, the giant teen would imdiately beco the centre of attention, with every guest making the first move to win his favour.
Everyone knew the worth of the Ironforge clan, except Thane.
Hawk slowly walked towards him. He didn’t want to startle Thane nor make him feel as if he didn’t belong here, or perhaps, Thane was already feeling that.
"Master Thane, Master Max was looking for you," he said softly.
"Oh yeah," Thane replied and paced up as he looked at the ceiling. "This place is way too gleamy, isn’t it?"
Hawk smiled. "It certainly is."
Hawk wore a different mask, not the hawk-shaped one he wore at the casino.
A sleek, form-fitted shell of vibrant spandex, having shades and shine similar to a diamond.
It was a full-head covering, featuring a tightly laced back to remain secure.
Its signature shape was defined by the pronounced, pointed antifaz, resembling stylized bird wings, with his lips and jaw exposed.
"How much do you think all of this costs, Hawk?" Thane asked.
Hawk pondered before answering. "A high-end party like this often costs around a thousand gold coins or so."
"A thousand gold coins? Whao! Dad rely gave ten silver coins, and I danced in joy. Why did they stupidly spend such a fortune on a party?"
Hawk smiled, an expected question from Thane, which he calmly answered. "Things are different in the capital.
You have to show your worth to get connections, or beco formidable to a level where no other can compete with you, just like your clan is in the world of blacksmiths."
Thane nodded. He had yet to fully understand it, but he got the gist.
At that mont, Hawk’s eyes caught a certain figure. A strange man.
He had dark skin, locks on his head reaching down to his shoulders, a sharp-featured face as if carved by a knife.
Hawk slowed down. He wanted that man to see him, but he didn’t.
Thane may not have the smartest head on his shoulders, but he had sharp instincts, and he caught Hawk’s strangeness.
"Do you know that chocolate guy?" he asked.
Hawk flinched. He drifted into the past, into so ugly mories.
Thane’s voice snapped him back to reality. "Ah, no. Master Thane, let’s move."
John and Max, who were ahead, finally felt the absence of the other two. Luckily, they were right behind.
The hall was not that big to get lost in, but it was crowded.
"Let’s et Ildiem Zenonar," said John.
The quartet walked towards a man.
He was the one who owned this kingdom of indulgence, the host of this party and master of Blessed Fighting Championship, the second biggest legal fighting organisation of Bentram Kingdom.
He was no re host of the party. He was the tycoon who sell violence.
The realisation settled heavily in Thane’s chest. It was a display of power, wealth and control.
Every laugh, every note of music, every glittering chandelier was a reminder. This man could afford to turn brutality into entertainnt, and suffering into spectacle.
He was an old man, old by years but not by presence. His back was straight and unyielding, as if ti had failed to press him down.
Silver hair, long and unbound, fell over his shoulders, yet there was nothing fragile about him.
Two lines on his face indicated his status as a two-lined Blessed.
His attire was deceptively simple. A robe of off-white, threaded with faint lines of molten gold that pulsed softly in the light.
John got closer. "Hello, Sir Ildiem, you look marvellous."
Ildiem chuckled. "Mr. White, I’m happy that you have co." Ildiem knew John’s identity, but as he wore a mask, he chose to call him by his alias.
"How could I not? It’s the invitation of Ildiem Zenonar," said John as he shook hands with Ildiem.
Ildiem looked past John. "You have brought so esteed guests with you," the old man said as he moved towards Max.
Max stepped forward and extended his hand, but Ildiem grabbed his arm and pulled him into a hug. "We are fish of the sa pond, Sir Huma Bird. I’ve heard very pleasant things about your casino, Den of Legends, aye?"
"Sir Ildiem is just generous with his words. It’s a small new establishnt, nothing as grand as Blessed Fighting Championship." Max replied.
"Yes, it’s new indeed, but it is no small establishnt. Anyways, how is your father? Give him my best regards."
It was the first ti Max t this person, yet he already knew about him.
By ntioning his father, he showed his power and connections. He already knew Max’s identity despite him wearing a mask.
Ildiem looked at Thane. "Now, that is so physique. Is he your bodyguard?"
Thane was irked, but Max was quick to respond. "No, sir, he is a very good friend of mine."
Ildiem nodded and extended his hand. "What is your good na, sir?"
"I am Pikachu," he replied in a stiff tone.
Hearing that, John moved a bit away. It was impossible for him to stop his laughter.
Max bit his lips. He had to stop Thane from embarrassing himself. "My friend has a sense of humour. He ans his na is Pixiu."
"Ah, Pixiu of legends." Ildiem knew about it. Max was surprised by that.
Ildiem moved towards Hawk. His smile gradually vanished. He said nothing as he stared at Hawk.
Max tried to speak. "He is my manager, Hawk."
Ildiem shook his head. "No, that’s not his na. His real na is Diamond Head."
Max was caught off guard.
Hawk smiled at Ildiem. "Good to see you again, sir."
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