The Arrival of the Platinum Bishop
A few flashes of brilliant light burst from the Soulforge Citadel, arriving in the courtyard in the blink of an eye.
Four people came down, their arrival awe-inspiring and intimidating, all with martial souls of incredible might.
The chief appeared old, but each inch of him emanated power. His clothes were opulent, and around him wafted ghostly shadows with dragon wings, the resonance of his warrior spirit sending out a stifling aura. His countenance bore the sort of stern haughtiness only accrued after decades of unparalleled might. His thin-set eyes glowed with cunning emerald green light.
It was Platinum Bishop Pallas, no less the Spiritual Ascendant that the Silver Armored Spiritual Monarch had called upon—an eighty-five-level Spiritual Ascendant whose presence alone caused the air to shake near him.
He swept the courtyard with a sharp glance. Kneeling silver-armored knaves, a nephew's battered and puffy face, and Nux—unfazed, self-assured, near-playful—stood before him. Wrath coursed, but when his gaze met Nux's remarkable countenance, uncertainty fluttered like a phantom in the recesses of his eyes. Haste, he clamped it down, assuming the unruffled demeanor of an unbreakable master.
"Bah! Still not letting go of me?"
The Silver Armored Spiritual Monarch, battered and bruised, spat a wad of blood as he struggled to speak.
"Uncle! The little brats are so bold as to detest the glory of our Soulforge Citadel! Put him down immediately!"
"Noisy!"
Nux's brows pinched in annoyance. With the slightest precision, he picked up his toes and sent a firm kick to the Spiritual Monarch's belly. The man flew like a ragdoll, slamming down onto the floor squarely at Pallas' feet.
Pallas' eyes clouded, but he was otherwise calm. He simply looked down upon his nephew's wretched form, then shifted his gaze to Nux. A minute, polite smile curved his mouth.
"I don't know which cult you have learned under, little fellow. My nephew has obviously gone too far, and for that, I beg your pardon."
Nux's eyes flashed with curiosity. This old fellow… his self-control was captivating. The rest would have blown up in rage at such disrespect, but Pallas welcomed him warmly, without so much as a flicker of ill will.
The phrase "reaching out without smiling" struck Nux as humor. He spoke in a light, teasing tone:
"There is no one behind me. I am alone. As for what has gone on here… don't ask me. Ask the one beneath your feet."
Pallas detected the contemptuous tone, and a passing sternness passed over his emerald eyes. But he did not attack. Instead, he took a deep breath and released a controlled smile.
"Little friend, I jested earlier. I know my nephew's strength. If you could so easily overcome him, it must stem from an extraordinary background. Should he have wronged you, I offer my sincere apology."
Nux chuckled softly. "Tsk… it seems the Soulforge Citadel is not entirely crooked. Some still understand."
Pallas' eyes quivered unnoticeably. Within, his teeth throbbed with the annoyance of being jeered at by so boorish a young man. Who was this lad, to ridicule the Platinum Bishop of the Soulforge Citadel? He ranked second only to the elders themselves in authority. Even the leaders of the next four sects would extend him three points of deference upon greeting. And this whippersnapper…
Years of restraint kept Pallas from attacking impulsively. He watched, measured, and held back.
"Get up and set things right."
Pallas concentrated a burst of his soul energy into a giant hand and picked the kneeling Silver Armored Spiritual Monarch up by the throat.
"Uncle! Why are you punching me? Punch him! This kid doesn't have a ticket. He belittles the Soulforge Citadel and defames the Queen herself. He's good for death!"
Snap!
A resounding slap rang across his face. Pallas' face didn't change, uninterested.
"Don't talk nonsense. Apologize to this guest."
The Silver Armored Spiritual Monarch stiffened, completely bewildered. This… what was going on?
Nux lightly placed a hand on the shoulders of the kneeling monarch, a small amusement playing at the edges of his mouth. He waited with interest, wondering what the old fox would do next.
Pallas' firm voice sliced through the tension.
"Apologize!"
The monarch's bewilderment grew, but fear rooted him in subservience. Gritting his teeth, he bowed low before Nux.
"I… I apologize, my lord. I have offended you. Please, my lord, forgive this scoundrel and spare the little one."
Nux lifted a brow and shot Pallas a long, measuring gaze. Then, with a placid movement, he commanded release.
"Heh." He left the words suspended. "Since that's settled, just forget it and take care of yourself. Mess with me again. it won't be so easy."
The Silver Armored Spiritual Monarch gritted his teeth, fists bunched up, but Pallas moved forward and blocked him with a half-hidden smile:
Thank you for your generosity, little friend. Since you have work to do, kindly step into the hall. I will have someone escort you."
"Understood."
Nux caressed the Soft-Boned Charm Rabbit in his arms with gentle fingertips and nodded.
Pallas' icy stare remained on him. What a conceited boy… Let him have fun for a bit of time. Once I dig out his information… there will be no mercy.