Chapter 60: Simple
A few days passed as the day of the True Awakening drew closer and closer. One by one, the Suns and Moons began to return, their presences slowly gathering like looming clouds before a storm.
The last time they had assembled at this level was during Asher’s first awakening, the very same one in which he had failed.
Now, however, the tension that filled the entire Wargrave estate was palpable. It hung in the air like a dense fog. Every maid, butler, and knight walked on eggshells, practically quaking in their boots.
After all, meeting all the Wargraves at once was something so rare, so overwhelming, that even veterans of the estate felt unsettled. The Wargraves themselves wore cold, distant, or expressionless looks, faces carved from ice, which only served to deepen the terror in the hearts of those around them.
At this moment, within a silent, dimly lit chamber, Azeron could be seen sitting in deep thought. His head rested gently against his palm, his golden eyes staring blankly up at the ceiling above him. His expression was unreadable, but a certain weight hung around his shoulders, as though invisible chains had bound him in place.
At the side of the room stood Zarek, Azeron’s personal butler and long-time right-hand man. He stood with poise and calm, silently observing the man who had long since earned the title of the strongest Wargrave, a man who could topple mountains and tear apart legions with nothing but his spear.
And yet here he was, sighing continuously, mulling over something as though it was far beyond his reach, beyond his power.
Azeron’s thoughts, in this moment, were completely focused on Asher. His tenth heir. His tenth child. His Tenth Sun.
His wife, Lily of the Abyss, had entrusted Asher to him as her final, dying wish. She had placed the boy in his hands and asked only one thing: protect him.
And now, here he was, throwing that very son into the fires of the True Awakening, where death loomed like a specter waiting to strike.
Azeron didn’t know what to do.