Wren walked out of the General's room and found Lucas waiting. An amused smirk stretched across the white-haired man's face, and Wren knew the reason all too well.
"She took a fancy to you, I see." He said with a smirk.
Wren rolled his eyes.
"Care to not say some nonsense?" He felt frustrated. In just a few moments, he was treated like a doll, being dressed up and having his hair styled.
Lucas chuckled at his misery.
"I mean, there was no doubt, you look like a heartbreaker, you know?" The amused expression on his face irritated Wren further.
He looked good; he knew that fact, but for some reason, looking like a beggar seemed far better to him because of the splendour of his clothes.
Lucas wasn't exaggerating; the transformation was truly surprising.
Wren was now draped in the sweeping grandeur of a floor-length cape made of midnight-black velvet. The heavy lapels featured detailed gold designs that shone against a bright ivory lining.
Underneath, he had on a well-fitted, high-collared military jacket in smooth black, adorned with shiny silver dome buttons that reflected the light. A decorative gold chain draped across his chest added to the look.
Beneath the collar, he wore a dark red silk shirt that gathered at his throat, softening the sharp edges of his outfit. The tailored black trousers ended in shiny black leather riding boots that reached his knees, complemented by gold spurs that jingled softly with each step, giving him an air of authority.
"Ah, you will be coming with us, right?" Wren suddenly asked; however, Lucas shook his head in disapproval.
Wren felt confused, but he chose not to ask.
The sound of heels clicking sharply against the floor echoed from behind. Wren turned, his breath catching in his throat.
She looked breathtaking.
Her jet-black hair was pinned elegantly in a high bun with a silver hairpin, but it was her attire that commanded the room.
Melina wore a structured, midnight-black ceremonial gown that perfectly mirrored the military grandeur of his own outfit. It featured a sharp, low-cut sweetheart neckline lined with luxurious wine-red silk, and a bodice adorned with intricate gold embroidery.
Instead of a soft skirt, the fabric flowed down into a tailored, split-front battle-gown that moved with dangerous grace, revealing flashes of the dark leather riding boots beneath.
Melina walked towards the altar and stood on top of it. Wren followed her trail and stood beside her. She turned her head and looked at him.
"When I first heard of a mundane human slaying a Fallen creature, I thought it an exaggeration. But now that I have met you, I see the truth. I intend to train you personally, Wren. Within a few years, your soul core will ignite, and you will become an Awakened."
Wren stared at her with disbelief. Though it was an act, becoming an awakened in past was a big thing; it is even now, however, the process was faster in his time.
'Though I can use it for my benefit, a natural way to awaken, meaning the ability to produce armies, as the Spell doesn't throw everyone into the first nightmare.'
He could already see the vast number of armies that could be mass-produced.
"You seem excited, which is understandable. After all, the realm you come from cannot follow the path of divinity. However, your unusual powers associated with darkness are a contradiction; we can discuss it later."
Wren nodded.
"Then, we will take our leave," she paused and looked at Lucas before smiling and continuing, "I wanted you to attend with me, but you are not a person who likes such places, and neither do I have enough power to force you. So, take care of this place while I am not here."
Wren listened to the conversation between the two and found Lucas more and more interesting, not in a different way, of course.
He was more powerful than Melina; that wasn't something he had really expected. Could he be a supreme, or maybe a... Sacred?
Wren didn't know, not until Lucas told it himself.
Melina linked her arm with Wren's and spoke in a runic language that was very different from what he had heard from Lucas. A blinding light enveloped the two of them. Wren closed his eyes, and when he opened them again, he was surprised by what he had seen.
The visage of the Hell of Ariel had completely disappeared. The scorching, relentless white sands and the terrifying shadow of the Raven Fortress were gone, replaced in an instant by a cool, silent grandeur.
Instead, the two of them were present in a vast hall made from pristine white walls.
It was a place of unparalleled splendour and royalty. The architecture was dizzying in its height, with towering white marble pillars that stretched up toward a vaulted ceiling carved with intricate, sweeping murals of ancient battles.
Hanging from the distant shadows above were wide and luminous chandeliers, crafted from raw, glowing spirit stones that cast a brilliant, warm radiance across the entire expanse. The polished floor beneath his boots was so flawlessly white and reflective that it looked like a frozen, sunlit lake.
Yet, despite the breathtaking elegance of the palace hall, a heavy, invisible weight instantly pressed down on Wren's shoulders.
The strong pressure on him due to the presence of multiple strong souls was indeed heavy and disgusting, but he answered it through sheer willpower. But it was as if they had targeted him personally; the intensity increased, and now he found his willpower failing.
Melina, who was present beside him, couldn't do anything. How could she? The ones she would have to go against were closer to Gods than humans like her.
This wasn't the first time she had seen this; it had also happened to her. The difference was that she had awakened by that time; however, Wren wasn't a normal, mundane human either.
Then, suddenly, a sound of melodious jingle came from their side. The next thing they saw was a luminous drape made from fabric that looked like violet sky dazzled with countless stars.
"They have gone a little too hard this time," a smooth, feminine voice murmured directly to them.
The moment the words left her lips, the crushing spiritual pressure vanished into nothingness.
Wren exhaled sharply, looking to his side.
Standing there was a woman enveloped entirely by the ethereal grace of the starlight drape. He could only catch a faint glimpse of her face, but she felt like a living dream—a being who radiated a divine, holy, and virtuous aura. She was the absolute incarnation of human prayers and celestial beauty.
The woman turned her head toward them, a serene smile gracing her lips.
"It is a pleasure to meet Transcendent Melina, the General of the Raven Fortress," she paused, her glowing gaze locking onto Wren for a few lingering moments before her smile widened, "and the King from the Broken World."
Melina's posture stiffened in immediate reverence. She quickly bowed her head, using her grip on Wren's arm to force him down into a matching bow.
"We greet the Watcher of the Stars," Melina said urgently, her usual commanding tone replaced by profound respect. "It is an absolute blessing to be under your celestial grace."
The mysterious woman offered a soft, benevolent nod, her smile remaining warm.
"Oh, you are far too formal, General. We are all comrades in this war. Please, do not bow. Stand up." Her melodious voice rang like sweet music in their ears, completely washing away the lingering dread of the room.
The two of them straightened their posture. Wren didn't feel the pressure on his soul again, but the gazes on him were still there. Every eye in the vast hall was locked on them, especially on him.
However, his expression was blank for some reason. The more he got to know about this body, the more he thought about its origin. Why was his realm called the Broken World?
What prevented the people of his realm from walking the path of divinity? Listening to Melina, it seemed that the awakened could enter the realm, but they could not become awakened in that realm.
He needs to find out more about it.
"Thank you, Your Eminence," Melina said smoothly, her voice regaining its steady, professional edge. She subtly stepped half a pace in front of Wren, her hand still lightly resting near his arm.
The Watcher of the Stars hummed, her starlight drape shifting with a soft, cosmic shimmer as she turned her gaze toward the centre of the hall.
Wren followed her gaze. A chill ran down his spine; the source of the soul pressure and the disgusting stench radiated from the figures sitting at the centre table.
He could only recognise two people, Ascended Orion and the Sacred woman, the one they called the commander.
Gathered around the massive, circular table made of a single slab of solid, polished obsidian were the elites of the Divine Legion.
His gaze shifted to the right side of the circular table, where he saw two other individuals sitting beside the commander, both with similar silver-white hair and grey eyes.
As if noticing his gaze, one of them, the woman, turned her gaze at him and then a bewitching voice whispered in his mind.
[I was curious who was watching me; it was a handsome man like you. I would love to have a private meeting with you, as my passion has been burning for a while.]
He could see her gaze turn more alluring than it was before. Wren visibly gulped; he could understand what Melina really meant.
'Passion, my foot. They are all just creatures with the nature of a freak. Bloody hell, I don't want to come across any descendants of Sun God.'
Melina noticed his gaze and could easily tell what he was thinking. She quietly drew him closer and then flashed a sharp, warning smile at the woman. She had to protect her new disciple, after all.
The three of them reached the circular table and took the three empty seats left for them. As Wren took his seat, he noticed the heavy gazes of the beings around him. Confusion, interest, disdain, and many other emotions could be seen in their eyes. Some of them were neutral and had no interest whatsoever. However, a few were truly disappointed by his presence, and finally, one of them raised their objection.
"A mortal at the Grand Council?" a cold voice sneered from across the obsidian table, the speaker's eyes flashing with raw contempt. "Melina, the Raven Fortress must be truly desperate if you are dragging mundane trash into the strategy halls of the gods."
Wren merely narrowed his eyes, his gloved hand tightening against the armrest as the entire room shifted its deadly attention back to him.
'How unpleasant.'