At the center most point of the martial continent, sat a castle of untold proportions that mixed in amongst mountains of grandeur. This place was a holy land of cultivation – the epicenter of natural energies and a the home of the most prestigious clan on Earth: The Belmont Clan.
Their history was long, but not always glorious. In fact, for much of their existence, they were servants to more powerful experts. However, one of these experts rose them up and allowed them to become a Royal God Clan of epic proportions. A Royal God Clan that many were wary of…
There was a reason why Connery Sapientia was so curious about studying their burial tombs and historical tomes. The Belmont family was a clan shrouded in mystery even to this day. Their current king, Elwing's father, rarely appeared in public. In fact, much of the reason few put the supposed disappearance of the Elvin King in their eyes is because the only man known to rival him, King Belmont, hadn't appeared in just as long.
However, the difference was that while the Elves had no clue as to King Acacia's whereabouts, the Belmont's knew that King Belmont was very much alive and well – and most importantly, that his ambition to raise the Belmont family to even higher levels had not been sated. So, when his first prince of this generation, Lionel Belmont, came back from a campaign to inform him that a legacy they had spent centuries guarding had been acquired, and by a woman no less, his excitement held no bounds.
"HAHA." King Belmont's voice boomed as he flashed out of his cultivation room at the words of his son. "Lionel, haven't I told you to smile more? What's with this cold look you're giving your father?"
Lionel showed no real reaction to King Belmont's over the top personality. He was very much used to it at this point. "It's not so simple, father."
"And why is that?" King Belmont stretched his back. He looked no different than a man in his twenties. If it wasn't for his strength and aura, many would mistake him for Lionel's older brother as opposed to his father.
He too, much like Lionel, had purple hair. And, not to anyone's surprise, he too had melded his red and blue eyes together to a near perfectly purple hue – even more so than Lionel. Only less practiced Belmont's had strikingly different eye colors like Elwing. Those who held the right amount of talent, or had enough time, would slowly fuse the colors to match their hair. However, no Belmont had managed to do so perfectly. One eye would always be more red, and the other would always be more blue.
"She's a Sapientia." Lionel, interestingly enough, started with this as a main barrier.
"And? For something like this, it's worth allowing that Connery fool into our tombs. It's not as though he'll gain much from it anyway."
"He's not a fool, father. He simply works based on effective returns. It's quite a logical way to do things."
King Belmont sighed. "This is why, despite your talent far surpassing your siblings, I haven't given you the title of official first prince yet."
Lionel didn't seem too shaken by this. He knew his father would eventually cave in the end, anyway. It wasn't as though he played favorites with his children. "That's only because you're too young. You have too many years left, don't pretend as though it's because I have some character flaw."
"Listen to you, being so rude to your own father. I should bring in Big Red to help discipline you." King Belmont snorted.
Even Lionel couldn't help but twitch at the nickname. Only King Belmont and King Acacia would dare call Ava's father, Head Sicarius, Big Red.
"Tell me, Lionel. How do you think my power stacks up to the heads of the other Royal God Clans and King Acacia?" King Belmont's playful demeanor disappeared, replaced by the air of an expert as he turned his gaze toward his son.
"You know that's something I have no scope or understanding for. So, why do you ask?" Lionel didn't think much before responding. He found this question to be ridiculous. How was he, no matter how talented he was, supposed to tell the difference between experts who could crush him like an ant?
"If you had to make a guess, what would it be?" Understanding his son, King Belmont was already prepared for this answer.
"I'd say that you're weaker. Why else would you bide your time as you have? It might not be your fault, you also seem to be younger than them."
King Belmont shook his head, "This is what I mean. You see people as simple equations. To be added and subtracted. To you, if I'm powerful enough, we should already be a King God Clan. Why stay a Royal God Clan?"
Lionel remained silent. His father was exactly right, that was exactly his thinking. His father rarely appeared in the public and spent all of his time cultivating, why would he waste away his years like this?
"In the coming weeks, large changes will be taking place. Maybe these things will help you put things into proper perspective. People will surprise you. Things you saw as simple, won't be so simple at all. And maybe you might even begin to see through your own mistakes."
Lionel's face showed no real change at his father's statements. Unlike most children, Lionel had never seen his father as an unmatched peak figure. In fact, Lionel rarely interacted even with his own mother. What his father was saying now just sounded like the excuses of a man who knew his power wasn't enough.
Maybe, if Lionel had paid more attention, he would know that yes, King Belmont felt his power was insufficient. But, not for the reasons Lionel thought.
Unlike Lionel, King Belmont was very much aware of the shifting tides on the other planets. It hadn't escaped his notice that of the four planets, two of them, both Planet Nix and Planet Mino, were bringing along three clans that no one had ever heard of.
For a mere hundred years to overhaul the God and Royal God Clan system of a planet? Especially when peak experts lived so long? It didn't make sense.
What also didn't escape King Belmont's radar was the subtle movement of the Ragnor God Clan to these changes.
But, interestingly enough, there was one thing that even King Belmont hadn't calculated for. After all, even with his centuries of experience, how could he predict the importance of a mere eighteen year old boy?
