PROLOGUE.

3^rd Person’s Point of View.

“Genuflect,” the eldest of the Trobin children tilted his head high as he ordered the son of the man everyone will call King after today.

The son looked at him, then his gray-haired father. “Father.”

Said father did not even look back at his son as he stared straight at the blooded throne where the dead old king’s corpse laid- proof that their rebellion succeeded.

“Genuflect,” the first person commanded once again.

“Leave,” the son answered the raven-haired man without breaking eye contact with his father’s back. “Give us a minute. I want to talk to my father.”

“No need.” His father finally looked at him. “Genuflect,” he cold-heartedly said.

He was taken aback, but did not say anything.

“You heard the king,” the other said, stressing the word ‘king’ which made the gray-haired man’s eyes glistened.

The anticipation that his father exuded from being called king gave a clear message. He gripped his sword that pierced the old tyrant’s heart just a moment ago tighter.

“Is this what you really want father?” he asked, his soft voice quivered. “I ask you for the last time, is this what you really want?”

“I am a step away from my vision.”

‘From your greed,’ he thought. “Then what of me? What am I to become?”

His father did not answer, instead the old man went back to stare at the throne, his intentions clear that he’d do everything just to sit on the seat everyone tried to covet.

After a while, he asked, “What oath?”

“… The ninth…”

“Well then,” he threw his sword on the ground, “I figure that my oath won’t be fulfilled so I would rather not do it.” Still looking at his father’s back, he started removing the metals on his outfit. He had no intention of genuflecting as an honorable knight.

Once everything that made him a member of third platoon of the Royal Knights were discarded, he walked straight to his right. He looked the raven-haired man in front of him straight in the eye, defiance present in his body. He took a deep breath and held the air in for a few seconds. As he exhaled through his nose, the defiance changed to submission, then, he genuflected.

“I, Augustus Ruela Theodore Markus Polvacius Ignis of House Perivot’s fifteenth generation, genuflects to Astura…”

“Terev Giglio Astura Romelo Eritte of House Trobin’s eighth generation,” the raven informed.

“I, Augustus Ruela Theodore Markus Polvacius Ignis of House Perivot’s fifteenth generation Young Master, genuflects to Terev Giglio Astura Romelo Eritte of House Trobin’s eighth generation Young Lord as an act of submission. I offer my body, my blood, my soul, and my very being to the Young Lord. May the Young Lord use me as he sees fit as I am now his person.”

“I, Terev Giglio Astura Romelo Eritte of House Trobin’s eighth generation Young Lord, take this genuflected man in front of me. I will not hesitate to do my bidding as I accept his body, his blood, his soul, and his very being as my person,” the man recited. “I now seal you with the Ninth Oath with the power invested in me by the above.”

The man’s right hand covered his whole face, a glowing circle with intricate details appeared on the ground and he felt his body burn. His gut-wrenching cries echoed through the throne room full of blood and mangled bodies as the Sealing took place.

His sweaty, heaving body dropped to the floor as his father stomped his foot, cracking the skull of the former king’s head. Then, he heard a thump as the heavy body of his father finally sat on the throne.