Chapter 8 Why Didn't It Work?
Creak!
The huge golden door of the throne hall automatically pushes in upon the slight approach.
Hisha's eyes spotted from a distance, the radiant throne of gold sitting beneath an impressively decorated red canopy and is adjoined by six large, but far less ornate seats for the supreme overlord's trustees–tribal chiefs.
Crossing over the threshold with Kritz following behind Hisha. The door slammed shut.
Looking behind him to understand how the door had been able to achieve such tricks, he noticed two humanoid figures stationed at each end of the door.
Their average lean white bodies stood straight. Two long arms hung at their sides and ended in graceful hands with long fingers, each with claw-like nails. Their whole body covered with a blue like Sux and their huge beady green eyes glowed as they maintained the door stayed shut.
Their legs are long and are bent, each ending in small feet as they hovered three inches off the ground.
[Race: Metae]
[Height: 125cm]
[Position: Door keepers]
'So they are the cause of the automatic mechanism to the door.' Hisha smirked at the alien-like vibes they gave.
Whipping his head back, he raised his head in pride, full of himself that these little things obeyed him, it felt nice to be in control of powerful and strange creatures.
[Would you like to use the replicate of what you've seen for the thousandth time? The host already possesses the skill necessary to do the same]
HTC suggested, curious about what his host could achieve with that.
'I'll pass, that's a total waste of my Sux, you should know that. Is this some sort of trick?' Hisha questioned.
[It wasn't a trick, but it was pleasantly surprising that you would reject such an offer blatantly. You're improving]
Hisha's lips twitched uncontrollably at the supposed compliment. Underneath all of that, he could feel that HTC was merely mocking him, but let it pass by him for the sake of what he was to face in the throne hall.
The throne is covered in intricate motifs and fixed on each of the broad feet is a chiseled skull. The soft pillows are a dark viridian and these too have been adorned with emblazoned tufts.
An ivory rug splits part of the room in half from the throne to midway down the hall while pointed banners with gilded tracery dangle gently from the walls.
High windows are enclosed by veils colored the same ivory as the banners. The curtains have been adorned with jewels and emblazoned edges.
'Makes me think of how rich this body must be.' Hisha snickered in his head.
[More than your generation could ever think of, obviously!]
HTC scoffed, putting up a disapproving emoji.
'Way to go adding salt to my wounds!' Hisha deadpanned with a frown.
"Lord Hisha." The tribal chiefs got up from their decorated mezzanines overlooking the throne.
They all gave a slight bow upon noticing his approach.
[Tribal Chiefs: 7]
'Can't be trusted.' Hisha made a mental note, given the fact that this was the most cliche of things that happens in dramas, he refused to be easily manipulated by some old jerks.
[Name: Wae Wu]
[Height: 165cm]
[Position: Chief of the werewolf tribe]
'Great! We got the werewolf!' Hisha internally facepalmed at the sight of this male, disturbed by the eyes just like he had been with Kritz at first.
He stared into the glittering red eyes, set elegantly within their sockets of a man in his early 50s.
'Definitely older than this.' Hisha corrected his thoughts, applying what he had known about their kind to guess his proposed age.
Scars reaching from the right side of the forehead, running towards his upper lip, and ending on his forehead leaves a stinging memory of battles fought.
His silver, straight hair slightly reveals a chiseled, tense face that held back hostility at the presence of Hisha.
Walking past them, he raised his chin, not ready to accept the character status of the rest except if they were of importance or spoke.
Climbing up to the dais, he sat on his throne, crossed his legs, and leaned back into his chair.
Hisha had his cheek leaned onto his clenched right fist with his elbow resting comfortably on the armrest, supporting his face.
Kritz took his place by the side of his lord, putting on an impudent attitude towards the tribal chiefs. He constantly shifted glares from one to the other.
The tribal chiefs all shared a knowing look. Wae stepped forward. Brushing on his long-sleeved, animal skin jacket which covers him to his groin and is loosely tied with string at the left side. The sleeves of his jacket are quite wide and reach down to just above his hands, they're decorated with a decorative gold band at the edges.
"Lord Hisha the one, supreme overlord of the land of Kurg. The ruler with absolute power, may your rule go on for another thousand years," he began, pausing to get a favorable look from his lord.
'If you think you can flatter me with that little eulogy, werewolf dude you're so wrong. I freaking hate deceit and you, Wae, I can tell from the moment I set my eyes on you that something is wrong with your aura.' Hisha's lips drew into a thin line at the praise, clearly unpleased by it.
Wae was left stunned by the change in demeanor, the air suddenly turned chilly.
'Why didn't that work?' Wae stared at the marble floor in confusion and rage, pretending to cough and clear his throat.
His fangs grew in size, eyes glowing at how he had not gotten the desired reaction he needed. The lord they knew a few days ago was always catfished by such words and this had always worked to their advantage.
'What could have happened?' He growled in his thoughts, understanding the other tribal chiefs would also try to hide their shocked expression at this strange change.
Raising his head, he suppressed all he had displayed while obscuring his face. He forced a smile as he proceeded to speak.
"Lord Hisha, the supreme..."
"Shut it!" Hisha's deep voice thundered, irritated by the numerous fake praises attached to every sentence that came out of Wae's lips.
"Either you go straight to the point or you all get back to your tribes!" His green eyes glowed in rage.