Chapter 151: The Grandmasters of Verolona
Seraphel
I visibly gulped.
This was the first time I had ever stood alone with him. Azriel had always been there before. Since arriving in Verolona, Analisse had never once left my side either.
Without either of them beside me now, he no longer felt like the insufferable, prideful sin I had grown used to back in Katula. He felt like something closer to a god.
"Prince Consort Seraphel," Luceriel began at last, his voice unhurried and resonant, every word carrying the weight of a man who believed the room existed simply to hear him speak. "Tell me. How do you find the kingdom of Verolona, in comparison to Katula?"
I frowned, because why was he asking me that when I had spent the entire week staring at the same four walls. "I wouldn’t know," I said flatly. "I’ve been locked in my room this whole time."
He let out a low chuckle, followed by a sigh. "In any case. I summoned you here because I want you to meet your teachers. Your training begins next week."
I glanced around the empty hall. "Are the air currents supposed to be my teachers?"
"Do try not to be amusing. Azriel never was, and I cannot imagine where you picked up the habit."
"I wasn’t trying to be funny," I shot back, throwing my hands up. "There is no one here. So who exactly am I meeting? The air?"
Luceriel rose from his throne, uncrossing his legs with an elegance that seemed almost involuntary, as though even standing were an act performed for an audience. "You seem impatient. Another habit borrowed from Azriel? Because I know he is an impatient man."
I frowned at his words but refused to back down. "Maybe I am losing my mind. I haven’t seen the sun in days, and you swore we would begin training the moment I arrived, yet here I am a week later, still carrying the light of Castiel inside me, burning brighter with every hour that passes."
"And yet you haven’t exploded," Luceriel replied, taking slow, deliberate steps toward me. "You are alive, not dead. Training cannot begin here without first undergoing the special cleansing of Verolona, and that is precisely what you have spent these past days enduring, whether you realized it or not." He blew a slow breath against his fingertip, the gesture almost lazy, as though the effort of explaining something so obvious to me had already worn him thin. "Though I would not expect your little human mind to grasp it. Humans understand so very little beyond the scraps of habit they borrow from us sins."
I said nothing, only pressed a finger into my ear and let him keep talking.
"Patience requires time," he went on, "and if you refuse to wait for it, you will find yourself courting greed instead, a vice I find thoroughly sickening. The only greed I have ever been able to tolerate is my brother Taizel’s." He said the name the way one might speak of a favored brother, fond and condescending in equal measure, utterly certain of his own superiority in the comparison.
I rolled my eyes as he came to a stop directly in front of me. "Your teachers were meant to arrive a week ago, but one of them was delayed. He had just come out of seclusion. Now that all five are here, they will be introduced to you together," he said, walking past me and glancing toward the door.
Before I could respond, the golden doors burst open.
Five servants entered first, three men and two women in green robes embroidered with swords and flowering vines, each bearing a tray.
Behind them came five more figures, and these were dressed in nothing so plain as servants’ robes. Theirs were woven of pure silk, and they carried themselves with a composure so deliberate it felt closer to ceremony than entrance, each step measured, each expression schooled into perfect stillness.
It was wildly sophisticated, yet I couldn’t help but notice that every single one of them carried the exact same aloof, prideful aura as Luceriel.
Great, I thought inwardly. Now I have to deal with five more of him.
"The Grandmasters of Verolona!" the announcer shouted from the corner, initiating the formal introductions. "Grandmaster Raina of the Primordial Core Stage! Grandmaster Gabriel, Master of Absolute Energy Control! Grandmaster Fenrir, Master of Defense! Grandmaster Danielle, Master of Core control!"
Each master bowed slightly as their name was called, stepping forward to take a bound manual from the servants’ trays to present to me.
They offered brief, polite greetings, explaining that the texts contained the fundamental foundation I needed to study.
I nodded, accepting the heavy books until my arms were full, already feeling tired just looking at the pile.
"And finally," the herald announced, "Grandmaster Paziel, Master of Offensive Magic and Arcane Warfare!"
The final master stepped forward.
Unlike the others, he wore a deep dark robe that draped over his broad shoulders. He extended his hand, holding out his assigned text while reaching out to shake mine.
"Welcome to Verolona, Prince Consort," he said softly, his voice a low, smooth baritone that echoed strangely against my chest. "I trust I shall prove to be a suitable teacher to you."
I lifted my eyes to meet his—and froze.
Beneath the shadow of his high collar, a pair of striking, brilliant amethyst eyes stared down at me.
A subtle, knowing smile touched his lips.
The moment his skin brushed against mine, a sudden wave of goosebumps broke out across my arms. A strange, intense sensation surged through my blood, making my breath hitch in my throat.
My heart beat frantically against my ribs, reacting instinctively to his touch.
Who is this guy? I wondered, my pulse racing as I stared at him long after he withdrew his hand and stepped back into line with the other masters. Why did my body react like that just from touching him?
Luceriel’s arrogant voice broke through my dazed thoughts. "Your official instruction begins now, human. Do not bring disgrace upon my kingdom—or upon Azriel."
I snapped out of my trance, tightening my grip around the heavy books in my arms.
Pushing the strange feeling aside, I looked Luceriel in the eye, my expression hardening with firm resolve.
"I will do best," I declared.