Shadow of the Abyss

Chapter 443 The Sin of Sloth I

"So we are robbing the dead now," The Old Duke began as soon as he stomped into the antechamber, shoulders trembling with righteous indignation. "Have you no shame, Nox De Nier!"

The scorn in his voice few through one ear and out the other as Altair lowered his pen. He glanced up at the glaring Old Man. "Are they still attacking me outside?"

"Of course they are!" The Old Duke announced. "They think you are someone named—"

Altair raised a palm. "I know. Well, there isn't much I can do about it. Here is my question to you. Has the city Watch taken action, or are they still watching?"

At that, the Old Duke was silent for a second. Altair had always wondered where they were. Vastroph was the holy land of their king. For it not to be protected was not just an affront to his name but an insult to his nobleman and people.

"Don't do anything," Altair instructed.

"Don't you think I know that!" The Old Duke took a seat. "I've played the game longer than you've been a sperm in your father's balls." he tsked. "Is it true?"

Altair's expression was poised when he responded. "I'll start with the rumors against the current king. If this keeps up, I will be taking drastic measures. I've already had a handful of powerful Nobleman I can manipulate."

For a long while, the Old Duke didn't say anything; he only sighed with a disparaging look, which showed his age, before it all vanished. He smiled once more, though there was a notable distance now. A deep disregard permeated the room, making it seem they were four paces apart when, in reality, it was a mere three feet.

For an instant, Altair had the urge to explain that he had planned to resurrect Nox as one of his Forsaken. His grandson would live and would reach higher than anyone on this planet could comprehend. However, Altair wasn't sure how that might affect the Trial the Tower produced.

He sighed, too, forcing a smile that didn't quite meet his eyes, cold and equally distant. "Is that all?"

"Yes..." He said, taking his leave through the door as Raven rejoined him.

"I've delivered Ye'vanna, Your Grace," Raven said with a peculiar face.

"What is it now?"

"Well... there are quite a few men and women... especially women with gifts outside."

Altair blinked. "Say what now?"

Raven smirked. "I'm not a maid, you know. Get Hilda or Medusa to do it. I'm here to protect you, not wipe your ass."

To say Altair wasn't gaping would be a lie. Suddenly, he exploded into a fit of laughter. "Well damn!" Lifting her head up with a single finger across the chin, Altair grinned, sizing up the woman as if he were seeing her for the first time. Those amethyst eyes met his gaze verbatim. She was dead serious.

"Good. Very Good. Fine."

"You're not mad?"

Altair shrugged, lowering his finger. "You're not a maid. You're a guardian. And I haven't been treating you as such. Forgive me. I'll try to remember your position next time."

A slight reddening of the cheeks appeared to line Raven's flesh. She squatted Altair's palm, apparently annoyed. He wasn't quite sure what that was about but still grinned.

"You're cute when you're all red." He left it at that. Before she could say more, Altair shouted for Hilda, the Sword Maid for the day.

She appeared like a ghost, with a brooding expression as if he had just interrupted something.

"What?" Explaining what he needed, Hilda sighed, "Let me go wash up first..."

Altair tilted his head. From what he could see, Hilda was clean. So why would...Shaking his head, realizing he didn't really care, he said, "Whatever, just get it done. "

For the next two months, Altair was glued to his chair as he met hundreds of people a day, some offering him gifts, others welcoming in him as servants of the Infernal Monarchs or Archangels of the Heavens. By the time a month had passed, Altair needed an entire new warehouse simply to place everything. It was times like these when he missed the Palace of Sygian that could infinitely create space.

Others who were allowed in were those who sought to challenge him in battle to test their metal, using his Master's name as reason enough. Those that did all died the moment they stepped into the ring. Those who simply asked for a friendly spar were left alive with hardly an injury.

During this time, Ashara and her band of succubus had successfully taken over the Red Light District, controlling nearly all forms of adult entertainment. The number of noblemen that Ashara had wrapped around her finger had been so great that Altair simply stopped asking, allowing her full authority over such matters. Not that she didn't have that authority already.

Between growing his kingdom and dealing with another, Altair understood why some Emperors across the Myriad Heavens had 'kings' that worked under them. He would soon have to do the same. The only question was who he trusted most to accomplish such things without wasting so much manpower.

"In Old Earth, there were stories about a kingdom that grew so large it collapsed beneath its weight. I can't allow that." Altair told himself, lifting his head towards his five Sword Maids who were running around the antechamber.

He smiled, unsure what this strange feeling in his chest was. Ever since the Outerworlders started their efforts to kill him, Altair had enjoyed every bit of the chaos, unable to keep still as long as there was always a fire to extinguish. Between people trying to kill him, growing sanctions against Earth, or trouble with the Consortium of Genisis, Altair felt the need for rest being extinguished and the pull of Soul Exhaustion beginning to slow.