"Why haven't the Mino attacked in almost a year? Why did the Aumens retreat only to come back now? It's been so long yet none of you have any answers?!" A disheveled King Belmont sat on a rock throne, roaring at his attendants.

Members of the elves, Jafari, Pakal and Cavositas clans were in attendance, but they could only shake their heads at the fall of this once bright and young King. Even Head Sicarius, Ava's father, couldn't help but lament the fall of his long-time friend.

King Belmont's once lush violet hair had been graying for years, his wife no longer appeared in public with him since that day, and his newborn, who had already grown into a beautiful young girl, hardly spoke to him.

The weight of banishing his own son destroyed King Belmont. He was certain that he had made the right decision, but the impact rippled outwards fiercer than he was able to control.

His master leaving was likely the final straw that broke him completely. He had practically turned into a madman that did nothing but sulk and drink all day.

To call the alcohol of the martial world poisonous was a severe understatement. Comparing the alcohol of the martial world to the mortal world was like comparing flour to angel dust.

Unfortunately, there was no one here who could keep King Belmont in check.

King Acacia spent his days tending to his injured wife. Patriarch Pakal was always weaker than King Belmont to begin with. Patriarch Cavositas was killed during the battle after having his potential forcibly turned into battle power by Loki. And the only remaining King, Zabia, was currently with the Demon Generals who hadn't participated in the Golden Flame Quadrant's campaign on an important mission.

As for Ava's father, it wasn't his place to question the King. As the family sworn to protect the Royal Clan, it definitely couldn't be him Or else the Belmont Family really would be destroyed.

No one could answer King Belmont's question. They had told him multiple times about the music in the skies the day the Aumens decided to retreat, but clearly King Belmont didn't like that answer. Or, rather, he was throwing a tantrum because the Aumens were coming back, likely meaning that the Mino weren't too far behind from attacking.

How embarrassing had this been? The Mino were camped right outside their natural moat, on their very own land, yet they hadn't dared to attack them even once in this last more than 8 months.

Within the group of Jafari, Dyon's God Son, Sarid frowned. But, his mother, Ulu, covered his lips. Stopping the young boy from speaking his mind.

"Let me go mom!" The 15-year-old boy struggled out of his mom's grasp. "That bastard king needs to be taught a lesson!"

Sarid didn't hide his words at all. He was a good friend to Princess Belmont. In fact, it was due to Sarid and Stella that they had been able to hold the fort against the attacks of the Uidah. So, almost no one knew better than Sarid how far the King had fallen. There was a reason his own daughter didn't speak to him anymore.

And now, when it was the job of a King to bring the people together, he was yelling at them and being divisive? When all he had done during the war was drink? The bastard hadn't even appeared on the battlefield!

"What did you say?!" King Belmont turned his anger toward the teenage boy, the majesty of a celestial erupting from him.

"You heard what I said you disgusting old man!" Sarid was surprisingly unfazed. His father was the Zabia and his god father was the legendary Dyon. Their battle nigh mythical battle was still spoken about among the citizens of Earth to this day. How could he live up to the two of them if he was scared so easily by such a cowardly man?

Head Sicarius grasped King Belmont's shoulder. Although he didn't say anything, his meaning was clear. If King Belmont stooped so low as to attack a child, a good friend of his own daughter no less, there would be no going back.

However, King Belmont seemed to have started seeing red. In his distorted view, Sarid was the problem. How dare he have a better relationship with his daughter than him? How dare he disrespect me in front of so many people like this?

"Go ahead." Sarid growled. "Cross the line. I dare you."

King Belmont trembled in rage. "You You're so confident because of your two fathers? Is that it? Zabia and Dyon are nothing but little boys! I've lived hundreds of years! Do you believe that even if they were here, that they could save you?!"

"I bet my father and god father barely need to raise a finger to a defeat a shell of a man like you." Sarid snorted.

Sarid might not have a constitution, but he had gained his father's large frame. Zabia was well over 3 meters tall while he was a teen, and Sarid followed suit having already reached 2.5 meters in height despite being 15 years old.

In the end, the Jafari bloodline ran through his veins, he wouldn't be easily intimidated even by someone of a higher cultivation realm.

King Belmont trembled in rage even as Head Sicarius' grip strengthened on his shoulder.

"I didn't expect you to have fallen so far, Belmont." Suddenly, a voice familiar to many of them cut through the thickening atmosphere.

Dyon walked into a familiar hall with a frown on his face. He remembered this room well, after all, this was the first place he came to when he awoke from his coma. It was also the place he had that large verbal bout with Madeleine's parents.

His divine sense had been concentrated on this room for a long time, so he hadn't missed anything that happened. But, he would be lying if he said that he wasn't surprised by King Belmont's sudden flip in attitude.

Although he disliked King Belmont, he had always seemed like someone with a decent head on his shoulders. Dyon never thought that he would collapse like this.

Dyon ignored King Belmont for the moment, choosing to smile toward some familiar faces. However, what confused him was that even those who had once been close friends looked at him with a stunned expression on their faces.

"What? Is there something on my face?" Dyon involuntarily brought his hand to his cheek. He still had PTSD from essentially being washed in beast dung for days, so he was worried that maybe some of it was left behind.

From within the section of elves, Zaltarish stood and walked toward Dyon.

Dyon remembered this grey-skinned and red-eyed elf well. He was once an enemy, but they had grown to have an amicable relationship after he saved the Elvin Kingdom. Dyon couldn't help but wonder if he had won over Mithrandir's heart in the past 20 or so years. If he really hadn't succeeded, Dyon really would have to help this poor fool out.

Zaltarish's red eyes flickered with an odd light as he closed the distance between he and Dyon, soon their noses were practically touching.

After a few moments of awkward silence, Zaltarish's teeth grinded against each other as he scanned Dyon from top to bottom.

"AAGGGHHH!" He roared, tilting his heads into the ceiling. "IT'S NOT FAIR, WHY ARE YOU SO HANDSOME?! I'M THE ELF, AREN'T I SUPPOSED TO BE BLESSED WITH NATURE'S LOOKS? FUCK! YOU BETTER STAY AWAY FROM MITHRANDIR, YOU HEAR ME YOU BASTARD?!"

Those around the room couldn't help but burst into a fit of laughter. They really were stunned by Dyon's appearance because he simply looked like he was carved out of some heavenly metal. It was clear that even Dyon himself didn't understand the kind of changes his constitutions had brought to him.

Hearing Zaltarish's nonsense, Dyon couldn't help but shake his head. "Maybe if you had agreed to follow me into the tower instead of staying behind to chase skirts, you wouldn't be regretting it so much now."

Originally, Dyon had planned to take a whole host of young elves with him as well. Why wouldn't he? After all, they were the subjects of his wife's kingdom.

However, there were apparently important rituals the elves had to undergo. It was similar to Saru's coming of age ceremony, but important for far more reasons than just pride.

With King Acacia back, the Elvin Kingdom finally had a True Empath who could walk them through the Ancient Game protecting their tombs, so they could receive blessings from their ancestors.