Vaelor stepped into view, his figure stood like a mountain, eternal and unmoving.
Every breath.
Every step.
Seemed to suppress the very air within the hall.
His very presence was a testament to the legends and stories of his power. He didn't need to speak.
He didn't even need to turn his head to look at them.
Without even realizing it, almost everyone had stood to their feet, bowing toward the two goliaths of the Eastern Realm.
Beside him, a woman walked steadily. Her sensual hips swayed with an allure that sucked the moisture straight from the throats of the spectators around them.
Her face was covered by a red veil; her phoenix-like eyes shimmered like primordial fire as her red irises gleamed with unwavering authority and confidence. Her long red hair seemed to have its own soul, swaying hypnotically like a gentle flame.
No one spoke.
No one looked up.
Most didn't even dare to breathe.
This was the power of the Aetherion Clan. The Clan of the Conqueror himself.
The mesmerizing duo cut a straight path through the floor, climbing the stairs to the five thrones lining the top of the podium at the back of the hall.
Vaelor led his wife to her seat, his gentle demeanor a far cry from the blood-thirsty warmonger he was known to be.
Only after he was seated beside her did he finally glance down at those standing below. His posture was relaxed, like an emperor looking down on his subjects.
With his head held up by his fist resting on the armrest of the throne, he finally spoke. "Sit."
There was no extravagant speech or wasted words.
Just the single, unquestionable decree of a ruler.
And those on the floor below? They obeyed.
Without question or resistance, they bowed even deeper and settled back down into their seats.
Liraxia watched the now subdued atmosphere with a coy light in her eyes.
Crossing her legs, her sultry voice weaved through the cooled air like a warm breeze, tickling the ears of all who heard it.
"Please be at ease. My husband can be a bit intense, but he is a big teddy bear once you get to know him~. Don't let our presence ruin the mood. Today is a day of joy and celebration!"
While her eyes were lighthearted and teasing, the contents of her statements drew out a cold sweat from those seated below.
After all, what kind of psychopath do you have to be to see THE Vaelor Aetherion, a demon made flesh, as nothing but a child's comfort toy!?
With strained smiles, the guests hastily thanked her and resumed their conversations.
Beside her mother, Seraphiel looked at the almost constipated expressions on the faces around her and, for some reason, felt a sense of relief that she was too young to understand certain situations.
Meanwhile, Alaric's eyes had never left Vaelor's body. His gaze was so intense it seemed like he was trying to start a fire on his face.
Noticing the heated gaze on him, Vaelor cast him a lazy glance; his eyes flashed briefly before closing in disinterest.
In that short exchange, Alaric let out a muffled groan, his face paling slightly as he circulated his cultivation technique to smooth out his disorderly qi.
Through that single glance, he caught a glimpse of… something.
It was as if a never-ending storm had encroached on his soul, threatening to disperse his very being through the void.
He lowered his gaze, his eyes flashing with a frenzied gleam as his lips twitched into a maniacal grin.
No one within the hall noticed the small exchange—no one except for Faelor. His expression turned grave as he laid a pensive gaze on the towering figure sitting leisurely on the throne.
Elowen, seeing something off with her husband, slipped her hand into his and questioned worriedly, "What is it, my love?"
Faelor's complicated gaze rested on Vaelor for a few more seconds before he tore it away and focused on his wife's elegant, motherly features.
He gave her a reassuring smile, patting her hand lovingly, and spoke in a low voice, "It's nothing, dear. Just thinking of some things. All is well."
Seeing his clear avoidance of the topic, Elowen gave him a meaningful look before tactfully dropping the subject and going back to feeding their daughter.
A sigh of relief left Faelor's lips, his eyes filled with a soft light as he realized once again how amazing his wife is.
'And don't you forget it~'
Faelor blinked, but seeing the mischievous smirk on her face made him laugh beside himself.
Truly, what an amazing wife indeed.
…
"Are you ready, sweetheart?"
Kaelira, dressed in an imposing black and gold gown, crouched down in front of her son. The embroidered golden phoenixes on her dress shone with a majestic light as she fussed over him.
"Mama… sis?"
As she was adjusting his robes once again, Kaelira froze and stared at him in disbelief, doubting her own hearing.
Due to the presence of heaven and earth qi, all life forms on Genara grow at exponential rates. Children typically begin speaking at around six months old, and their bodies also grow at an accelerated rate.
But Chayrith has always been very different from other children. Besides the fact that he had gestated in her womb for about forty years, he spoke very few words.
Aside from the rare "mama" or "papa," or even "Mei-Mei," he mostly babbled in his own babyish language. So to hear him call out to her and look at her stomach so worriedly, she felt a warm current flow through her heart.
She rubbed her stomach, a look of loving maternal affection in her eyes, and spoke.
"Are you worried about your sister, sweetie?"
Chayrith nodded his head hesitatively.
Kaelira stood and pinched his chubby cheek with a warm smile.
"Don't worry. Mommy will take good care of your sister. And if anything tries to hurt us, you and Daddy will protect us, right?"
With a firm nod, Chayrith's eyes were filled with fierce determination.
Vairon appeared beside them, a calm smile on his face as he helped fix Kaelira's attire.
Behind him, Meilan and Marek strode over, both dressed in matching black robes. Meilan looked elegant and poised, her hair pinned up by an obsidian phoenix pin.
The loose strands of hair on her forehead gave her cold face a more down-to-earth look.
Meanwhile, Marek, still shy, blushed as he fiddled with his black robes; the dragons depicted on them did not take away from his adorable, childlike innocence at all.
With a final once-over, Vairon turned to his son, a small smile breaking out on his handsome face.
"Let's introduce the world to our little birthday boy."