Igor smiled beneath his mask. He walked ahead without providing an answer, and she stayed true to her words. She fell in behind him, and he felt her energy prime her body in preparation. He didn't know where she got the liver. She was low-class at best and was about to walk into a room of High-Class beings.
[I hope my hand won't be forced.]
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|DxD|- Chapter 130- I Hope I Am Understood
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Igor walked through the open doors into the courtroom. King Tepes sat on an ornamented throne, and along the sides were long tables seating pot-bellied nobles and officials. Behind them, rows of pillars towered high to the coloured glass ceiling.
Igor stepped onto the velvet carpet. It was not lost on him that the nobles sat slightly elevated above him. They'd look down on him, and he'd look up to them.
The room fell on him as he walked by. The feeling of many eyes was like pricks on his chest and sides. He quietly walked on, focused on the one man with the voice.
Vladimir Tepes: strong before the weak, and weak before the strong. Igor dealt with so many of his ilk he could recognise this trait at a glance.
Vladimir was calm, relaxed even, on his throne. His head was lopsided as he watched Igor with the mild intrigue.
Igor stood before the throne. His mask hid his face, and calm, blue eyes faced Vladimir with casual regard.
"King Tepes. As per the contract, I am here as—"
"Do you not know how to bow, human? You're standing before the king!"
"..."
Igor sighed inwardly.
[As expected.]
Igor didn't spare the furious noble a single glance. He locked eyes with the king, and Vladimir returned the gaze in kind. One hand rested on his chin, with a gaze of veiled boredom.
"As I was saying, Tepes. I was contracted by Grigori as your daughter's trainer to help her master her sacred gear."
Vladimir didn't reply. The court fell into silence. The pricks on his side intensified, and Igor was losing his patience. A table banged to his side. A thin nobleman with a thin moustache clenched his fists so tightly his knuckles cracked. He looked at him with a snarl, and Igor noticed his power rising.
"Barbaric human! You are in the presence of the most high king! What do you think you are to dare speak to the king so callously!!"
"..."
Igor side-eyed Vladimir. The man changed neither his posture nor expression. He tacitly agreed to this, just like all the other nobles. He glanced over his shoulder at the fallen angel, and her polite smile remained professional. She wasn't going to help.
He sighed tiredly and uttered two words.
"Very well."
Brutal violence it was.
*Tswii!*
A loud bang thundered across the room. Chairs creaked and skidded as heads faced the sound's origin. Where the nobleman once sat, an embroidered bonnet cap fluttered on the table. His chair slid back and toppled over as if a great wind had moved it.
The bang was the noble himself. He was slammed and pinned to the pillar by the skull. Igor's large hand covered his forehead and eyes, and blood trickled from his nostril. His body was limp, and Igor let his unconscious form drop to the floor. A bloody hole the shape of his head caved the pillar, and cracks spread around like shattered glass.
"I will make myself clear."
Igor slowly hovered up. The courtroom was tense with shock and rage. Frilly white collars the size of wheels suddenly felt tighter than usual.
"I was contracted by Grigori, not you vampires. I came here to 'inform' you of my appointment to Valerie Tepes."
He eyed Vladimir. The man sat up straighter and more alert. The shock in his eyes said that he didn't expect this 'frail' human to surpass them in power.
"I set aside my bias by showing respect. You didn't return it. If power plays are how you wish to operate..."
Golden aura flamed to life.
"...then I will respond in kind."
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Mittelt saw her world spin. Igor seemingly fractured into countless pieces, and the floor became the roof. She collapsed under her pounding head. Her lungs hurt. She couldn't breathe.
The feeling was so suffocating she felt her chest cave inward. Moving was painful. Breathing was worse. Every inhale crushed her like paper in a vacuum.
Mittelt didn't know how long it lasted. It could've been minutes or a blink of an eye. When the feeling left, she found herself on the floor. The smell of spilled wine sang uncomfortably close to her. She lifted her gaze and found a shattered cup next to her head.
"Ow…"
She rubbed away her splitting headache and sat up. What she saw…was chaos. Igor's flare of power did not strike her alone. Many nobles had toppled over in disgrace. The more heavyset outright broke their chairs. Long fractures spread on the wooden tables, now slick to the grain with wine and broken glass.
"OUT!"
Mittelt flinched when Vladimir's angry voice shook the court. He gripped his throne so tightly the armrest fractured between his fingers.
She followed his gaze, and noticed at least a dozen vampires in armour had appeared with spears and swords at the ready. Instead of alertness, there was confusion, and Vladimir didn't let understanding dawn.
"I said OUT!"
Ingrained obedience overtook logic, and the guards vanished from sight. Vladimir was positively fuming and had nowhere to vent his rage.
Mittelt wanted to stand up, but her legs were too numb to respond. She avoided Vladimir's gaze and faced Igor like the lifeline she was.
"Vampires."
Igor began suddenly. His voice had a depth that forced everyone to attention.
"Understand I do not appreciate politics. I have no interest in whatever games you play with Grigori or the Camilla. My only concern is my task. Let me complete it in peace, and I will turn a blind eye to your affairs and machinations."
Mittelt suddenly felt Igor's hand on her shoulders. Her energy spiked from surprise, and his overwhelming force suppressed it easily.
Igor looked over his shoulder towards Vladimir and gave him one last veiled warning.
"I hope I am understood, Tepes."
They vanished, leaving a once proud room in shambles. Vladimir gripped his armrest until the wood burst apart. He looked at the spot where Igor vanished with venom in his eyes.
[First, it was Baraquiel. Now it's his disciple.]
His teeth grinded against each other, and his jaw locked in unrivalled anger. His majesty had been challenged beyond what he could stomach. He wished he could skin his informant alive. This damned human was not Mid-Class!
He stood up, too disgusted to remain in this room of sullied honour. Many of his men floundered like drunks on their chairs and the floor. He vanished, unable to withstand the humiliating sight of his disgraced council.
Chapter 130
END