Floating Palace

News of someone defeating a Hero reaches the ends of the world, as word travels fast. People all around have different expressions from one another. Some rejoice while others keep a more reserved reaction.

Among those who show their feelings of joy, many gather for drinks the following night, singing praises to the unknown person who defeated the hero. Over in Rodena, where the repressed citizens suffered the most, burst out of their homes cheering while in tears. Meanwhile, those who previously benefited remained in their homes, locking their doors.

The shining silver moon shines with brilliance over the town, illuminating the now busy streets. Lanterns pick up where the moonlight can't reach, bringing back life to the once-abandoned Rodena.

The celebrations continue deep into the night, whereas over the mountains, and above the clouds, rests a floating palace. It travels around the world at a steady pace, without a care in the world.

Like a traveling mountain, it soars in the skies above the world without interfering. It shouldn't come as a surprise if someone spotted it, but the protective shield surrounding it gives the enormous structure camouflage at the same time. Through the massive doors and never-ending halls, one can find the dining room with a long table, as far as the eye can see.

Wooden table and chairs in the center, laced with reinforced steel at every connection to support them. The massive room holds paintings the size of an adult human. Torches above the pictures provide better lighting to the individuals appearing on them. Three chandeliers sharing their light hang from the tall ceiling held by chains.

The soothing silence comes to be interrupted by a group of people that noisily enter through the wooden doors that make a creaking, thunderous sound as they open.

A man who carries himself with heavy steps walks in and a mocking sigh escapes his mouth. "Heh!"

He proudly walks in first. His bald head shines as soon as the light from the hanging chandelier hits it. He caresses his black beard with extravagant motions, flexing his muscles at the same time. His burly build provides him a domineering presence. The armor he wears adds to the identity of the God of War.

Behind him, a woman with light steps, as if she's floating, sneers at him. "Save it, you old fool!"

Her elegant figure and enchanting beauty are enough to topple countries. Long crimson wavy hair like the flames of the mythical phoenix, slender hands that can charm with a swift motion, and slim waist to tone her other feminine proportions. A purple dress follows the shape of her body, leaving nothing to be desired.

The man looks at her. With eyes wide open, he exclaims. "W-What…?! Who are you calling old? I'm only seven hundred years old!"

The others surrounding them laugh at their exchange.

The woman holds her head as if she's having a headache. Shaking it, she utters. "That's what bothered you?"

The noise turns to banter and just as fast to sparring. A woman with fiery red hair and a man with a black beard cross their swords. Their grunts bring laughter to the rest.

Their laughter soon changes to cheers. The two fighting enjoy the attention and their attacks on one another become more fierce. The friction of the wielded metal creates sparks that are sent flying in all directions.

They would mesmerize anyone watching them, which holds true to the people in the room. The intense atmosphere captivated everyone present. They stare with gaping mouths and wide-open eyes. Noone blinked as to not miss anything.

There's only one man who isn't laughing. Instead, he waits for them to stop. He says nothing but stares at them. His piercing gaze sends chills throughout the room. The man and the woman sheath their weapons when they notice his intense gaze. They approach the table and pull back a chair each. The others follow.

Without uttering a word, they sit in silence and look down at their plates. The deafening silence makes them shiver.

The man stands up and paces around the long table, making eye contact with everyone present. His hoarse voice vibrates in their eardrums. "How can you be so carefree at a time like this?"

They can do nothing but lower their heads.

A clacking sound interrupts them, forcing their heads towards the door. "Don't be so hard on them…"

The man with the hoarse voice twitches his eyebrow and turns in the sneering voice's direction. "You!"

Appearing before them is an old man holding a cane. His mustache, trailing like whiskers, is long enough to touch the ground. His hair perfectly matches in color with his white robes, seeming to blend in with one another.

The old man caresses his mustache. "Don't look at me like that boy… I warned you this would happen!"

A young man wearing a black suit rushes in and stands in front of the old man. "Sir Scarab, you can't walk in right now!"

He turns towards the man, who stands before him and bows. "I'm terribly sorry, sir. He went past us without us noticing…"

The old man sneered and raised his hand that wields a cane. With a swift motion, he swings it and hits the young man on the chest, sending him flying to the other side of the dining room. "Learn some manners before you can speak to me, ant!"

The woman with the crimson hair stands up and rushes towards the bleeding young man. With a wave of her hand, she heals him and helps him stand up.

Scarab's screeches echoes throughout the room. "You… A Goddess helped this ant, but you let your ward perish. How embarrassing!"

The woman grits her teeth and hastily paces towards him in a rage, only to be halted by her superior.

His laughter turns their stomachs. They try to hold in the vomit as they turn to the man standing across the old man.

"Celestine, preserve your strength! We may have kicked him out, but don't fool yourself. He can easily kill you!"

Upon hearing him, she attempts to calm her emotions. She stares at the old man who supports himself on a cane. Being unable to gauge his strength, Celestine turns to the burly man in front of her. "Are…!"

Before letting out her question, the cane comes crushing onto her, making her take a step back. The force from the impact forces her to vomit fresh blood, which she paints the floor with. Scarab lets out a hysterical laugh. "Yeah, he's sure!"

A woman with short black hair, who until now sat silently, stands up. "Enough of your spite and petty games, old Scarab. Either tell us what your want, or get out!"

Her voice carries a crystal tone. She doesn't rush nor raised her voice, but the target she directs her focus on can feel the menace behind it. The old man looked at the young woman and smiled. "You grew up fine, Minerva!"

"Shut up! Praises coming from your mouth sound like insults!"

Scarab bangs his cane on the floor, making them all flinch. "Ku Ku, your tongue is as sharp as ever! Who's side are you taking I wonder?!"

The old man continues his chilly laugh while walking towards the door. Each step he takes, he bangs the cane harder, creating small holes on the stone floor, each time deeper. "Getting you all riled up, is good for my health. Anyway, playtime is over!"

He takes a few more steps and looks back. His dead eyes reveal a sinister glint, creating goosebumps. His icy tone sends chills down their spines, and cold sweat drenches their faces. "Release my child or I'll keep coming after your wards!"

With those last words, Scarab walks out of the dining room, with the clacking sound echoing further each time.