NOVPUBLeopold prided himself on possessing a real nose for trouble.
Well, it wasn't like it was something that he took time honing. It was more like a natural consequence of his nature.
For over two thousand years, those of the fearsome lion house had served the werewolves of Tayar as their swords and shields.
As a youth, Leopold was born with fire in his blood. Even more so than his thirteen older brothers.
The idea of forced servitude, no matter to whom the other party may have been, was an unthinkable thing for him.
Leopold went through many bloody battles and carved out new
territories for his family in the hope that he would increase their power and position within the country.
However, he had neglected to think of the potential outlook. 𝖓𝔬𝖛𝔭𝔲𝖇.𝔠𝔬𝖒
When the Garou royals came to his home to thank his family for their efforts in securing land for them, Leopold was enraged.
In the middle of the hall, right before all of their forefathers and the fallen gods, Leopold declared that the land he had procured for his family was his alone. Subsequently, he announced his plans to break ties.
At that time, a young sixteen-year-old Ayame was accompanying her husband-to-be, Wergar.
To impress her husband and in-laws in one fell swoop, Ayame beat the young lion within an inch of his life to re-establish pack hierarchy.
Ever since then, Leopold had developed a secretive respect and fascination with Ayame, as well as a sudden ability to predict and assess potential dangers.
As he watched the first human step down from the carriage, those senses of his were going off in full alarm yet again.
'He's dangerous.'
The human didn't actually look all that special. His clothes, while noble, were not overly luxurious or gaudy. Perhaps that of a viscount or the like.
He appeared to be in his early thirties with sandy blonde hair and a clean-shaven face.
He seemed, at first observation, like an airheaded person. Not in the comical sense, but more along the lines of a person who went everywhere without really understanding why they were there.
His deep blue eyes darted from place to place, taking in the sights around him as if he were genuinely interested.
He almost seemed harmless, but at the moment his cool gray eyes met with Leopold's, any illusions of harmlessness were thoroughly dispelled.
'Quite sharp indeed.'
Leopold already knew the descriptions of each of the human heroes who were still alive. If he didn't, he might've mistaken this man for one of them.
He walked over with a wide gait in his step and finally greeted the nearly eight-foot lion-man.
Much to the surprise of everyone there, he held out his hand in greeting.
"Think we've been sizing each other up long enough. Baro Abernathy, how do you do?"
Leopold's gaze was hard. "...How do I do what?"
"..."
"..."
"...This place is great. Really great." He smiled.
Baro eventually put his hand down as the rest of his men started to congregate behind him.
Unlike Baro, they didn't look quite so enthused to be there. They turned their noses up at the atmosphere as if the entire place smelled like a barn.
From the moment that the knights got out of their carriages, the tension in the air doubled.
They took no care to hide the contempt in their eyes or even take their hands off their blades.
This venue was a powder keg. With too many matches and too many fuses to keep track of.
If no blood was spilled today, Leopold would label it a miracle and allow his daughters to braid his mane.
"A bit of overpreparation, I know..." Baro sighed as he looked back at the protective detail of fifty armed mages and cultivators. "But please believe me, they're only here out of a feeling of concern for my well-being. The reputation of your queen precedes her, I'm afraid."
Leopold showed a chilling smirk for the first time today.
"And yet you came anyway. I wonder why?"
Baro shrugged modestly. "I'm a believer in pacifism if you can believe it. And a man who believes in seeing the big picture."
Leopold didn't buy Baro's claim to pacifism for a second. One bloodthirsty warrior cannot hide from another.
He could only imagine just how dangerous Baro would be if he had a sword in his hand instead of a paper scroll. The thought of a battle almost made him want to grab his sword out of instinct.
"Well, it's nice out, but shall we go out and meet this fearsome queen I've heard so much about? I doubt she'll want us to keep her waiting any longer than we already have."
"Indeed, she won't."
The humans looked up as a figure emerged through the castle gates.
As they passed through the shadows, the figure was revealed to be a mature woman with stark white hair, jade-like skin, and illustrious golden eyes.
At the very moment that the men laid eyes on her, their already building tempers saw a serious uptick.
The air became filled with jeers and all sorts of vile accusations, all thrown at Vermeil; all of them recognizing the former Starlight Saintess at a glance.
Even Baro's relatively neutral expression threatened to crack from this unexpected variable.
Underneath the angered gaze of everyone present, Vermeil showed her own coquettish smile.
She lifted her slender hand above her head. Baro noticed not one, but six different rings adorning her two hands.
When her hand came down in a graceful arc, Baro felt a surge of energy come from her that was unbelievably frightening.
He reached for something at his side when he suddenly heard the sound of smashing metal behind him.
Baro found a most miraculous sight waiting for him. Every single soldier accompanying him as an envoy was face down on the cobblestones.
They were unable to even fight against such a superior showing of qi telekinesis. With control like this, Baro did not doubt that she could have killed all the men here at any time she wanted.
'She's been busy…'
Vermeil smiled and fixed her dress before resuming her normal posture. If she was struggling to keep all these men frozen, she sure didn't show it.
"Please, follow me inside."
Baro smiled wryly, the luxury of choice so clearly having been taken off the table.
He followed Vermeil into the castle grounds without saying much of anything. Instead, he was carefully watching his surroundings for signs of an ambush.
'Not like it would matter much anyway… Let's just hope they're feeling charitable.' He discreetly glanced at the three beastkin following hot on his trail.
Their gazes were locked directly on his hands and waist. Baro was willing to bet anything that if he even reached to put his hands in his pockets, his arms would 'spontaneously' fall off.
Vermeil pushed open the last set of double doors and led the envoy inside a dimly lit room.
There, a large wooden table was populated by the world's most powerful fallen.
Only one seat at the table remained empty, and Baro, despite the confidence he felt on the ride over here, was wary of taking it.
"Your people jumped through quite a lot of hoops to stand there. Don't tell me you are going to waste this opportunity?"
