God From The Abyss

Chapter 16: Chapter 016: Duke Alan Limnor.

"I’ll be your opponent, young man. I am Valerian, Knight Commander of the Limnor Household. State your name."

"Call me Mikael," he replied, taking his stance. "You seem stronger than these already slain. Do not disappoint me."

No matter how intense the backlash would be, Mikael decided to enjoy the feel of his scythe once more after all eons passed. And seeing as this current opponent was as strong as the Captain from earlier, he had a feeling he’d enjoy the spar.

’Then again, I would appear to be a battle maniac. Might be the boy’s inner tendencies,’ Mikael thought, before waving it aside.

The commander laughed. "I will try my best."

With a thunderous roar, both lunged forward, their blades drawing twin arcs of silver in the air, eyes locked on to each other’s movement. They closed the gap between them in heartbeats! However, before they could even clash...

"Enough!" a voice boomed from the entrance of the palace, stopping even Mikael in midair.

A presence—unfading and undaunted.

Mikael tilted his head. A man. A powerful one at that.

Finally, the ’famous’ Duke.

He simply walked toward the duo, his hazel eyes scanning the devastation with neither horror nor rage. They were calm, rather, almost uncaring.

Mikael turned fully to face the approaching man, his scythe resting casually against his shoulder.

"You sure took your sweet time, Duke of House Limnor."

Alan Limmor took a long look at the monster before him. The bodies left carelessly strewn across the ground, the overwhelming aura of insatiable hunger oozing out of the young, white-haired fiend—everything about him screamed one truth: the lad was a beast.

His daughter was right. The boy was quite the troublesome fellow. But it was nothing he couldn’t handle.

He advanced with slow, measured steps, until he stood only a few paces away from the boy.

Mikael felt the air shift around them, a reaction to the presence of a powerful being. For the first time, he felt the aura of higher rank. Since Adrian hadn’t met one of them, his memories were of no help as to which rank he might be at!

"A high ranker, no doubt,"he mused. "With authority. I like it. But he doesn’t seem to want to fight. I should probably avoid this human. ’Especially with my backlash coming soon’

"You seem to be rather enjoying yourself."

Alan’s voice was steady, calm, as his eyes studied the boy.

Ragnarok slowly retracted back into its resting place, its wicked edge slowly dissolving into nothing as Mikael continued toward the approaching powerhouse.The two drew closer until they stood face to face.

"I expected better," he said. "Your knights are not as strong as I had calculated. Of course with the exception of that one over there." He gestured toward Valerian.

"I see," Alan replied. "He is the Commander after all."

Mikael studied the duke. There was no fury. No anger. Not even fear. If anything, he was accepting that his knights had lost to someone stronger.

"For someone whose subordinates were killed , you don’t even seem fazed."

"Would it change anything if I were?" Alan asked calmly.

Silence.

Then, both men laughed—loudly, heartily—before falling quiet again, eyes locked on one another.

The duke placed a hand on Mikael’s shoulder and said, "Come, dinner is getting cold."

Mikael grinned widely. "This is getting rather interesting, isn’t it?"

"But of course." The Duke smiled faintly. He turned to Valerian "Turn off the defense runes in the house, clean up everywhere, and bury the dead."

"Yes, sir," Valerian replied, saluting.

"Shall we be on our way then, young man?"

The tension in the air did not subside even as Mikael followed the duke inside, the grand oak doors shut heavily behind them with a resounding thud, sealing off the chaos and bloodshed outside.

The interior was vast, its corridors lit by mana-cyrstal chandeliers and their glow illuminated the white marble floors.

Ancient tapestries and portraits lined the walls, each one depicting a legacy, generations of power.

Yet Mikael’s gaze rested only on the man walking ahead of him.

Duke Alan Limmor. Tall, composed, and unflinchingly dignified, he carried himself with an air of authority. His hazel eyes, from before, betrayed nothing: no fear, no anger, no arrogance. Only quiet calculation.

He was even a high ranking mortal in aspects of his mana and aura, at least from what Mikael could estimate.

A mortal accustomed to wielding and savoring power. That, Mikael could respect.

They arrived at the dining hall—a grand chamber lined with tall windows overlooking the city. The windows were left open, letting in the gentle night breeze.

The long table,made of polished wood, stretched forward, prepared for a meal that felt more like a meeting of predators than a simple dinner.

They sat—Mikael across the Duke, while Isabella who joined them as they went down the corridors, sat at her father’s left.

Alan took note of Mikael’s position. It was a declaration of power, of who was going to be in charge. This was not just dinner.

This was a battlefield, of wits. One he’d lose if he didn’t tread very carefully.

The servants moved with quiet precision, setting the plates and pouring wine.

Mikael observed subtly, ready to move at the slightest perception of threat. The girl was tense, stiff, while the Duke was entirely at ease—like someone who knew he’d win no matter what his opponent did.

Mikael smirked.

"A rather fine feast for the person who butchered your subordinates, don’t you think, Duke of humans?"

The Duke smiled. The young man wasn’t just some mad butcher. He was cunning, testing the waters.

"They did attack first, didn’t they?"

"Fair point."

The Duke’s smile faded.

"You’ve proven quite difficult to... eh, subdue."

His hazel eyes met Mikael’s gold turned red ones. The young man’s eyes seemed to have the ability to weaken opponents, according to reports.

"I need not ask if he’s awakened," the Duke muttered. "That’s a given." He coughed, "So.....what exactly is it that you want?"

He set down his goblet.

Mikael swirled his glass lazily, savoring the appearance of the pink wine. He now looked more like a cunning fox, master strategist.

"Oh Duke..." He took a slow sip. "I want everything."

"If I said that,what would be your reaction?"

Alan smiled, eyes widening with curiosity.

"Ohh, now I find those choice of words very interesting, Mikael."

He released a bit of his aura. "Care to break them down for this old man?"

Not a joke, Mikael noticed. A threat.

He smirked. "Who knew mortals could be this intriguing?"

Tonight was going to be fun. Dangerous, but fun.

But what was ’fun’ even supposed to be?

There were a few emotions too that Mikael had experienced over the hours since he began treading the world of men, ones he never knew what they were prior to his feeling them!