37: The Nobles of Sparta (1)

Inside a certain hall in the royal palace of Sparta, ten people sat around a long table. At the head of the table was Abel Morningstar, the king of Sparta and the head of the Morningstar family. Meanwhile, the remaining nine people were various men and women who were heads of the nine noble families of Sparta.

The hall within the royal palace of Sparta was a grand and imposing chamber, befitting the gravity of the meeting taking place within its walls. High vaulted ceilings soared above, adorned with intricate frescoes depicting scenes of Spartan valor and mythological triumphs. Massive columns of polished marble lined the length of the hall, their surfaces glistening under the warm light of golden chandeliers suspended from above.

At the far end of the hall stood a dais, slightly elevated and commanding attention. Atop this dais was a long, rectangular table carved from dark, rich wood, its surface inlaid with ornate designs of gold and silver that shimmered subtly in the ambient light. This table was where the ten figures sat, with Abel Morningstar, the king of Sparta, presiding at its head.

Behind the king was an imposing tapestry which hung from the wall. It depicted the Morningstar family crest—an emblem of a blazing sun rising above a mountain peak, symbolizing the dawn of power and strength. The walls of the hall were adorned with similar tapestries representing each of the nine noble families, each banner bearing its own unique insignia and colors, showcasing the diversity and unity of Sparta's noble houses.

The floor of the hall was a mosaic of colored stones, meticulously arranged to form an elaborate pattern that seemed to move and shift with the changing light.

Large windows lined one side of the hall, allowing streams of natural light to pour in and illuminate the chamber. The windows were fitted with stained glass depicting historical events and legendary warriors, casting vibrant hues across the room as the sunlight filtered through.

At the center of the hall, opposite the table, a massive hearth burned brightly, its flames dancing and casting a warm, flickering glow. The scent of burning pine and cedar wood filled the air, adding to the hall's regal yet martial atmosphere.

In Sparta, there are nine noble families and a single royal family. Each noble family is ranked according to the contributions each family has made and also according to the martial prowess of each family… especially the family head.

The number one noble family was the Agriad family.

The number two noble family was the Artheus family.

The number three noble family was the Proclide family.

The number four noble family was the Meltas family.

The number five noble family was the Anaitis family.

The number six noble family was the Scironides family.

The number seven noble family was the Sciritae family.

The number eight noble family was the Dorieus family.

And the number nine noble family was the Demeter family.

Not only were these nine nobles the pillars of Sparta, but they were also families that commoners feared and adored for one single reason.

Bloodline.

As the nine noble heads of Sparta sat before the king, Abel subtly observed each of them with a calm expression, though his mind was filled with numerous thoughts.

Despite spending at least a minute to observe the present noble family heads, none of the nobles dared to speak without their king speaking first. Since their king summoned them, then that meant it was surely meant for an important matter.

A few more seconds passed, and then Abel's lips parted open,

"I called you here because my grandson, Silver Morningstar, would be undergoing his rite of passage in a month."

"What?"

"Seriously?"

Exclamations of mild surprise escaped the lips of the nobles when they heard the words of their king.

The news was not so shocking to them, nor was it one that would fill them with disbelief.

They were just surprised, and for a good reason, that is.

"But your Majesty, are you sure the young prince should be undergoing his rite of passage at his age? It's very dangerous and if he's not careful, he could die."

A man wearing bronze armor and a red cape spoke with raised brows. Beside his chair was a bronze spear which emitted an aura as profound as the man.

This man was called Zephyr Proclide, the Head of the Proclide family which was the third in the noble ranking.

Abel looked at the man, and then he nodded while shrugging with a nonchalant expression.

"If my grandson says he wants to take it, he can take it… Besides, if he dies, then he dies."

Some raised their brows slightly when they heard how nonchalant the king sounded when he spoke about the death of his grandson.

Although they knew that the king was somebody who could be extremely ruthless even to his kin and bloodline, they also knew that the king was extremely fond of the young prince. Even to the point that his actions and behavior would incur the jealousy of some of the royal family members.

Though, they didn't know why the king would behave in such a manner.

"Forgive my impertinence, your majesty."

A female voice resounded in the great hall, and all eyes turned to the source of the voice.

It was a woman who had long deep blue hair and deep blue eyes. The woman was brown-skinned, and she wore a white silk cloth which revealed part of her slightly bountiful breasts.

This woman was Lysithea Scironides, the head of the Scironides family which was the sixth in the noble ranking.

Abel Morningstar looked at Lysithea, and Lysithea continued,

"Your majesty. Although we know the young prince is talented, but compared to some of your descendants. He's still… how should I put it…" Lysithea paused, seemingly trying to find the right words.

"I think what you mean Lysithea is that the young prince is still lacking. Am I right?"

Another voice called out, but this time, it was that of a male.

Abel Morningstar turned to his right to look at the source of the voice.

The voice belonged to a male whose physical appearance made it seem like he did not belong to the meeting at all. In fact, his physical appearance would make ignorant foreigners and Spartans wonder if this man was even a Spartan at all.

99% of Spartans had a buff physique that would make most Spartans seem like giants to normal humans.

But this man had a slim physique.

It wasn't that the man was thin or looked sickly. No, it was just that the man's body seemingly lacked muscles that most if not all Spartans had.

But if one were to think that this man was a weak Spartan or not even a noble. Then they would be immensely wrong.

This man was Hades Agriad, the head of the Agriad family which was the number one noble family in Sparta.

"No offense to you, your majesty. But Lysithea is right." The man spoke, his voice sounding as refined as the top scholars of Nirvania and Sparta. Maybe even better than the top scholars of Nirvania and Sparta.

"Most commoners take their rite of passage when they're sixteen to improve their chances of survival. Although the young prince is obviously more talented than a commoner, he's obviously not as talented as some if not most of your descendants."

"Allowing the young prince to partake in the rites of passage is a foolish decision, especially for his young age."

As Hades spoke, every individual in the room could perceive the faint and unveiled tone of mockery in his voice. But they were not surprised by this.

They all knew that there was an enmity between the Agrias family and the Morningstar family. It was only due to the duty and love the two families had for Sparta that they had not gone to war only to weaken and possibly destroy Sparta.

Meanwhile, after Hades spoke, Abel had a calm expression despite perceiving the mockery aimed at him, the king of Sparta.

"Since my grandson wants to undergo his rites of passage, who am I to stop him?"

Abel swept his gaze at each and every nine noble heads.

"He's a Spartan and a Spartan's true potential is unleashed when in danger."

"I'm just worried that the young prince's potential might not be enough to overcome the danger."

The instant Hades spoke, a tyrannical pressure filled with immense killing intent engulfed the entire hall.

"Are you implying that the Agriad family is planning on conspiring against my grandson? Against my family?"

As Abel Morningstar spoke, the nine noble heads all had different reactions to his tyrannical pressure and killing intent that filled the entire room.

Zephyr Proclide looked around with much difficulty, and he realized that the hall had changed.

The hall no longer had the same beauty and design it previously had. Now, the hall resembled a bloody battlefield littered with corpses and a large amount of blood.

Zehpyr's leg moved slightly.

Plop

Zephyr looked at the ground, and his eyes widened slightly when he realized his feet were soaked in blood.

The blood did not just touch Zephyr, but it also touched the other family heads and this surprised them.

The blood felt… real.

Was this not an illusion?

The entire floor was filled with blood and corpses, but…

"Calm your anger, your majesty."

A completely different voice flowed into the ears of every single individual present, bringing them back to reality.

They all looked at the source.

"Although Hades Agriad definitely spoke out of a spur of foolishness, I'm very sure he was just joking. None of us here would want to harm the young prince who is not even a teenager."

Seconds went by after the individual spoke but the pressure and killing intent remained.

Abel Morningstar's expression as he gazed at Hades Agriad was not one of rage or hatred.

No. 

It was one of utter indifference. However, there was a soul-freezing coldness hidden deep within his eyes.

Meanwhile, despite bearing 90% of Abel Morningstar's pressure and killing intent, Hades Agriad had an utterly calm expression.

His gaze never left Abel, and this made it seem like both Abel Morningstar and Hades Agriad were having a staring competition.

Although, it seemed like Hades Agriad was unaffected by Abel Morningstar's pressure and killing intent. His bloodied clenched fists and vein-filled arms portrayed a different meaning.

"Please your majesty, subside your anger. We have important matters to discuss. In case you have forgotten, we have lost a Grandmaster. Something that has not happened in five thousand years."