Young Master's PoV: Woke Up As A Villain In A Game One Day

Chapter 379: Winds of War [I]

I had been to my father’s throne room before.

Each time, I found it so vast and tall and wide that both my eyes and mind were overwhelmed by the sheer grandeur of the place.

This time was no different.

Frescoed vaults above, supported by grand columns of gold, depicted the legendary battles my family had fought and won over the generations.

Below, though no human mind could truly perceive it, the distance between the floor and the vaulted ceiling continued to subtly shrink in a way that made the throne at the other end of the room appear large enough to dwarf any human.

As a result, the man sitting upon the throne appeared even larger.

The throne itself was bathed in shadows so dark it was barely perceptible in the dim lighting of the hall, but I could still clearly see that it was designed in the shape of a roaring lion’s gaping maw.

And lounging comfortably within the mouth of that monstrous beast was my father.

Arthur Kaizer Theosbane.

Even from this distance, the man’s presence dominated the hall like a mountain that could neither be avoided nor scaled.

He was wearing a simple black tunic threaded with thin strands of gold, though simple was a generous word when the fabric itself likely cost more than a warship.

One of his legs rested casually on a plush footrest, his chin propped up lazily on one elbow.

If not for the aura that weighed upon the room like a physical force, one might have mistaken him for a bored king enjoying his afternoon.

But that was the trick with my father. He looked relaxed. The world, however, did not relax around him.

A dozen golden-armored knights lined the vast chamber below the throne, standing perfectly still like statues.

Their helmets hid their expressions, but I could feel their attention snap toward me the moment the doors swung open.

They... were not the only ones.

Standing tall at the base of the dais were three figures, two men and one woman, all seemingly in their early to mid-thirties.

They all had tanned skin, the color of desert sand, which sharply contrasted against the pristine white robes draped over their lean frames. And when I say lean, I mean slim bodies with all muscles.

They were foreigners. Somewhere from the Southern Safe-Zone, if I had to guess.

That was the first thing I noticed about them.

The second was that none of them were kneeling, let alone even bowing their heads. That alone told me everything I needed to know about their status... or their intentions.

They were also looking at the boy who had so casually barged into this tense atmosphere as if he owned the property. Which would be yours truly.

And yet again, they were still not the only ones.

On the stairs of the dais leading up to the high seat stood two more individuals.

One was a woman of near-unparalleled beauty. Her flowing golden hair framed an angular face, and the black gown she wore, which accentuated her shapely physique, only added to her bewitching charm.

She was Aunt Morgan.

Aunt Morgan was currently giving me a wide-eyed look that screamed: ’Oh my god, you idiot, get out!’

The other was a man who stood a half-step behind her. Tall and broad-shouldered, he was dressed in a long dark coat over a half-unbuttoned shirt that left his muscular chest exposed.

His hair was tied back in a loose knot, revealing a sharp face marked by an old scar that ran from the corner of his eye down to the base of his jaw.

That jolly guy was one of my uncles. Unlike the others, he wasn’t looking at me. That was because he was palming his face.

Then there were two lines of chairs to the right and left of the high seat, five on each side.

On the left sat the old men and women. You could tell how powerful and experienced they were at a single glance.

You could also tell how ruthlessly stubborn and suspicious of change they were just by the way they held themselves — backs straight, chins lifted far too high, and eyes stern.

They were the Elders.

The true pillars of the Theosbane clan.

Conversely, the people seated on the right were younger. Not young by any means, but far from the ancient figures opposite them.

They were three in number.

Two young women — Thalia and Calliope, seventeen and nineteen respectively. And one young man — Tristan, who was twenty-two.

They were the future of the clan.

They... were my siblings.

And right now, every single one of them was looking at me. Thalia, especially, was giving me a look that was a mix of horror, anger, and relief.

I... had no idea why anger was even in the mix.

What the hell did I even do to make her angry this time? Return alive from a Death-Zone?

Sorry, was I not supposed to live?

Calliope and Tristan were looking like they were already planning a funeral.

My... funeral.

...Ah.

So this wasn’t just some casual meeting.

Well, my dumbass should’ve realized it way sooner when that knight risked decapitation by physically grabbing me.

But now it was too late.

I stopped a few steps into the hall as the massive doors closed behind me with a deep thud that seemed to reverberate through the entire chamber like a declaration of my noble presence.

For a couple of very long moments, no one spoke.

I waited and waited and waited a little more... then immediately turned on my heel.

Nope.

I did not want any part of whatever political drama that was going on here.

...But as I said, it was too late now.

My father’s voice drifted down from the throne, booming yet low. ”Stop.”

...I did. With a lot of reluctance, I did.

I inhaled, cursed myself for threatening those poor guards instead of listening to them, exhaled, and then turned back around to face my father.

I was not yet anywhere near the grand dais, so in my eyes, my father was still only a dark shape amid the blackness of the shadows wreathing that great throne.

But I could clearly hear him let out an exasperated sigh.

”At least this answers the question of whether you were awake,” he said, sounding just as larger than life as he looked.

A few of the elders shifted in their seats, some frowning and others scowling. Yeah, did I mention none of those geezers liked me very much?

”My apologies, Father,” I said, walking until the view of my father atop the high seat was clear before inclining my head just enough to feign respect. ”I was informed you were unavailable. I assumed that was... flexible.”

”Just take a seat,” Uncle Thorax interrupted, his voice muffled by the palm still pressed to his face.

I decided to shut my mouth for the time being and heed his advice, lowering myself onto one of the polished chairs reserved for heirs, right next to Callie.

She and I hadn’t ever talked much despite being blood-related.

That was because all true descendants of our family line possessed the signature golden eyes and hair.

But when we were little, Thalia used to follow me around like a lost hatchling because she was picked on by our other siblings for having black curls. Ezra, the eldest, was particularly cruel about it.

It was all so stupid now that I look back at it.

As such, I mostly avoided everyone during my childhood, deeming them nothing but bullies.

Over time, they grew up and lost their enmity toward Thalia, but then I became Ezra’s target after our mother’s demise.

He openly claimed he hated me and that I should’ve been the dead one, not Mom. Tristan and Callie took no part in that, but they didn’t exactly defend me either.

They also turned a blind eye when I was ridiculed by our cousins and vassal clan heirs for failing to awaken.

When I finally did awaken, it didn’t change much.

Most of my siblings had left the nest and their home visits were growing thin.

That was also around the time Thalia started distancing herself from me... the time when I grew jealous of our father choosing her as the next head instead of me.

I could tell as the years passed that Ezra was softening. The few words he threw my way here and there became less venomous and less personal.

But he never apologized. He didn’t suddenly become kind, nor did he go out of his way to mend the bridge between us.

So, there was always this invisible crack present between the eldest and the youngest of the Theosbanes.

My other brother and sister never made any effort either. Except Thalia. She made plenty of effort... to put me down.

...Oh, well. The lack of familial love had stopped bothering me a long time ago so I won’t dwell on it.

As I finished settling in, the chamber’s atmosphere shifted from tense to awkward, then back to tense again.

My father turned his gaze toward the three foreigners.

”Now that my youngest has decided to grace us with his presence,” Duke Arthur said, his voice thundering through the hall, ”we may continue, Chief Qhaf.”

One of the three foreigners at the base of the dais stepped forward.

He was the tallest of the group. His voice was thick with a guttural accent, like he was speaking from the back of his throat. ”Then allow me to repeat myself, Your Grace. Our proposal remains unchanged.”

My ears perked up.

Proposal?

Oh, this had just gotten interesting.

”We request,” the foreigner chief continued, ”that House Theosbane relinquish its illegal claim over the Aether Claw and withdraw all stationed forces within the next thirty days.”