The strike of midnight.
Inside the Primordials base.
The room was quite dim, a faint blue light illuminated the entire room, as the walls seemed to be made of cobblestones.
It was just as he remembered.
He had received a message from Ivan about the matters regarding the Primordial.
According to him, most of them left. The only ones who remained without question were Ivan, the Third Seat, and the Sixth seat.
It seemed like their respect for Ciel only remained for Ciel. They couldn't accept a new leader. However, some of them gave Brandon a chance to convince them.
To convince them that he could lead the group.
But only two remained.
The Seventh, and the Ninth seat.
In total, there were five seats present.
After all, they took on dangerous tasks. It was them who had kept the Wraithbounds at bay without even any recognition, while at the same time, living their lives anonymously.
Some worked for the government, while some lived as regular citizens.
But it had to be said that there had been a long partnership between the Primordials and the Imperial Army.
After all, the Imperial Army couldn't account for all the Wraithbounds.
Brandon sat on a seat. In the middle was a large oval table, coupled with several seats on each side.
In total, six seats were filled, leaving six empty.
The first one to speak was the Sixth seat, a woman with hazel locks and blue eyes.
She stared at him intently, her gaze felt quite pressuring.
"First of all, what do you plan going forward?"
Of course, Brandon had to be pressured.
He had just killed their Leader, a person they had blindly followed throughout the years.
The person who had most likely given them a home when no one would take them in.
That was the kind of person Ciel, or rather, Amelia was. Regardless if she didn't have her memories, she was still Amelia.
And for scheming to kill his sister, Brandon had already forgiven her.
Circumstances vary, and Ciel was put in a position to kill Belle under Jin's orders.
He couldn't blame her.
Not her.
Anyone but her.
After pondering for a while, Brandon had come to a conclusion.
"To dismantle this entire organization."
Thump!
One of the seats stood up, smacking the table. A man with black hair and a single silver eye, his other eye had been covered with a patch. Most probably, a scar from a previous job.
The Ninth seat.
"That's it!"
He glared at Brandon, his tone told Brandon all he needed to know.
The man disliked him. Maybe even disgusted.
Not just him, but the others had mixed reactions as well. Apathy, interest, dissatisfaction, they all had their own opinions.
"I stayed because it was Ciel's order. You could've said something else, but really!? You're starting off with that!?"
"Calm down, Hein."
One of the seats motioned with his hand. A man with fiery red hair and green eyes. Kael, the Third seat.
"Let him finish."
"Tsk."
Hein, the Ninth seat, sat back down and crossed his arms, showing clear disapproval of Brandon.
Kael turned his head to face Brandon, a faint smile on his lips. But that smile....
It sent a chill down his spine. As if Kael was telling him to, 'Choose your next words carefully.'
Of course, he was not stupid.
He knew just what he was saying. He had to appear bold, to show them that he isn't a pushover. To show them that he wasn't a clueless 17–year old.
Feeling the pressure, Brandon swallowed his saliva and continued.
"Like I was saying, I plan on dismantling this organization and reconstructing it anew. For instance, the seats that have been left open. At the moment, this continent lacks manpower. For that reason, I plan on decreasing the seats and slowly fill them up with members I trust."
Kael pinched his chin as he tried digesting Brandon's words. Shortly after, he responded.
"I get what you're trying to say. While it is true that the seats are currently vacant, it's not so easy to fill them. Added to the fact that we need to trust these 'new' members first, in any case, we don't even trust you yet."
Kael grabbed a cup of water and gulped it down.
Then, he continued.
"Where was I? Ah, right. The way you're talking, it seems as if you plan on fully revamping The Primordials without asking for any of our opinions."
"Opinions?"
Brandon scoffed, showing them that he isn't intimidated in the least.
She looked like a secretary, if Brandon had to sum it up.
She then appeared before him.
"Good, you're just in time."
Then, her gaze lingered on the suspicious looking midget right beside Brandon.
"And this is?"
Claire asked.
"One of my employees."
Brandon felt a long stare from Ironaxe as he uttered those words. However, he waved it off and completely ignored the dwarf.
"Right, follow me."
Just like that, they stepped into the elevator.
Click—
Brandon stealthily took a picture of Claire. However, he had failed to hide it from her since he forgot to put his phone on silent, a clicking sound ringing.
"Hey! What—!"
With widened eyes, Claire exclaimed.
However, despite that failure, Brandon used it as an opportunity.
"Reinhard's gonna wanna see this."
"You..."
Ding!
They arrived at their floor.
"Damn it. Delete that you fucke—"
"Nuh–uh."
Brandon waved his index finger.
"Tsk. At least let me see if I look good in it."
"Don't worry. You look the same every time."
"And is that good?"
"See for yourself."
Brandon showed her the picture.
"Oh, I look quite sexy."
"Pfft..."
Brandon couldn't help but chuckle, hearing those words.
Sexy?
As if.
Claire only frowned and shook her head.
Arriving inside a fine–looking office, Brandon and Ironaxe were instructed to sit on the couch while they waited for Claire's Father to arrive.
"Coffee or tea?"
Claire asked, standing right behind the refreshments.
"Coffee."
"Okay, what about your little friend over there?"
"Little—Nmh!"
Ironaxe was just about to burst before Brandon quickly covered his mouth, and said,
"Tea for him."
"Uh.... Okay."
Truth be told, Brandon felt a little bit nervous. It had to be said that Claire's father was a powerful mage who had made a name for himself in the past.
Not like Brandon hadn't met any powerful mages throughout the progressions, but at the moment, he needed something from Claire's father.
For that reason, he wore his best attire and even fixed his hair.
But that nervousness quickly died down as soon as he gathered his thoughts.
'Right, this is nothing.'
They were nothing.
Compared to the bleak future that he saw, none of them mattered.
Using those thoughts as a coping mechanism, Brandon took a deep breath.
Creaaaaak....
At that moment, the door slowly creaked open and a man emerged soon after.
Step—
The man stepped in the room with caution. The air around him told Brandon of the authority the man held.
Brandon traced the man's steps. Dark–purple hair that resembled Claire's, a beard coupled with glasses that etched on his features, while he too, wore business attire.
The man that was once called the "Lightning Emperor" in the past. The man that had trained Bellion Van during his youth. And currently, the man that had all the businesses in the continent groveling at their feet.
The CEO of Victoria Corporation, and the Father of Claire Victoria.
Jain Victoria.