The archipelago

The Monarch sat at the edge of the oval table. His pristine white robes matched those of the other members present. The atmosphere was heavy and calm until the sudden sound of doors flinging open shattered the stillness.

"You truly are wicked!" an old but sharp voice rang out dripping disdain. "My son has just died, and you're already planning to include your bastard in the family registry?"

The council members rose immediately, bowing in unison. "Greetings, Empress," they chorused.

The woman who entered was exactly that, the wife of the monarch, the empress. Although she was advanced in age, her vigor was still palpable. Her cloud-white hair was meticulously styled in an elegant bun, and her slightly wrinkled face bore the touch of refined makeup. She carried a long wooden staff, and its rhythmic clicks punctuated her steps as she approached the table.

"Spare me your hypocritical greetings," she snapped at the member of the council "My son's body isn't even cold, and here you are, conspiring to replace him!"

The Monarch remained silent, acknowledging his wife's fury with a slight inclination of his head. Decades of shared love and trials made her anger both expected and deeply unsettling.

One of the elders spoke hesitantly. "Empress, we don't have a choice. The direct line cannot be without an heir. We must recognize the young master in the family registry."

"With me here? I'd like to see who dares to write his name in that registry!" she retorted sharply.

Her voice grew louder as she surveyed the council. "Which of you did my son not support? Yet you stand here trying to scheme against his memory!"

"You all are alive, but my son is dead. Shame on every single one of you."

She moved around the table as her words cut through the room like a blade. The elders bore her wrath in silence until the Monarch finally intervened.

"Enough!" he roared, slamming his fist on the table with enough force it reverberated throughout the chamber. The room fell silent allowing his commanding presence to fill the space.

"I have also lost a son," he spoke in a low but steady. "Go back and organize the funeral. I understand your concern for Sol and Kol, but I will ensure their safety."

He paused before his gaze softened slightly as it met the Empress's. "The child is also innocent. I am the one to blame. I will make things right for everyone."

The Empress hesitated, but she knew when to retreat. She cast a final glare at the council before leaving the room, her staff clicking against the marble floor.

Once the doors closed behind her, the Monarch gestured for the meeting to continue.

One of the elders spoke cautiously. "Although we've agreed to recognize your child, Innanos, we have not yet decided to name him the heir to the Glev family."

"His origins are troubling," another elder added. "Having lived outside the family for so long, he's an unknown. The vassals and the younger generation will not easily accept him."

"True," another chimed in. "He must prove himself. Otherwise, it would undermine those who have dedicated their lives to the family's cause."

The Monarch's eyes narrowed, and his aura flared, pressing down on the room like an invisible weight. "Are you saying my son is not fit to lead this family?"

"No, Your Majesty," one elder stammered, visibly shaken. "We only mean... for a smooth transition, he must demonstrate his worth."

The Monarch leaned back, his aura retracting. "I said I would not be unreasonable, and I will not be." His voice turned measured, each word carrying undeniable authority. "I've already given him access to the vault. That is sufficient compensation for his suffering. Beyond that, I will not interfere."

He paused, his gaze sweeping across the table. "Whatever he wants, he will take for himself—like a true Glev."

The room was silent, the weight of his words settling over the council.

"At the end of the day, he is still my son," the Monarch concluded, reminding them all why he was the Absolute Monarch, who commanded not just respect, but fear.

--

While the council chamber was embroiled in heated debate, a different kind of tension filled the landing platform. The descendants of the Glev family, along with prominent figures from the vassal families, gathered to witness the arrival of the rumored new young master.

 They were all here to attend the proceedings for the funeral of the previous, led by the Direct Glev bloodline and this newly introduced figure.

The mood among the crowd was conflicted when it came to the previous heir. By all accounts, he was a man of character and principles. 

But in a world driven by power and conquest, his inability to dominate his peers had rendered him a controversial leader for a military-centric family like the Glevs. 

His death was a tragic loss to some, but for others, it was a long-awaited opportunity.

The Branch family members and vassals who had spent years accumulating power now saw a chance to vie for influence.

 But their ambitions were dampened by the sudden emergence of an unexpected obstacle on their path to the heir position.

Whispers rippled through the crowd "I heard they found him in a prison," one voice said with disdain.

"Someone raised in the ghetto of a backward place like Biohive 81? What could we possibly expect?"

"The Monarch, what was he thinking? Siring children at his age only invites trouble!"

"Do we even know who is the mother ?" another chimed in.

"The previous heir was already a disgrace. If this one is worse, I'll sever all ties with the Glevs."

Their contempt and skepticism grew louder, fueled by the uncertainty surrounding the new royal's origins and his undisclosed potential. They had come here to see for themselves. Was he a tiger cub, destined to grow into a predator? Or an herbivore, easy prey for the power-hungry?

Above them, a sleek flying ship approached.

--

Inside the vessel, Nioh stood by a window, watching as the island came into view. It was twice the size of Biohive 81. The landscapes were vibrant and inviting while the whole island bathed in a golden aura. The air seemed richer, the ground fuller. It was a stark contrast to the harsh and almost sterile environment he had left behind.

Marsai stepped forward with a polite bow. "We are approaching the archipelago also known as Biohive 09. It is the only island-type Biohive of humanity and it serves as the principal base of the fiefdom." Her tone was formal as usual. "We will be landing shortly. Please prepare yourself, young master."