( Micheal and Angakok's POV )
" I do trust your words, oh great shaman god Angakok, but here is something you should know before I go back…. " Micheal said as he stared straight into Angakok's eyes.
Although the shaman god had promised to be neutral or support the light faction depending on the situation, it was not enough for Micheal who did not have the slightest ounce of trust in the old monster, which was why he resorted to making a threat.
" I'm sure you are perceptive of the pendant hanging from the neck of your chosen one " Micheal said as he made a blatant threat to Angakok.
The shaman god kept a straight face, not letting his killing intent leak even the slightest as he appeared to not be impressed.
The meaning behind Michael's words was clear.
He knew about Angakok's connection to Max, that he was his chosen warrior, and he was threatening Angakok with his life should he double-cross the light faction.
" Go back King of Angel's, or the one to destroy heaven won't be Lucifer " Angakok said as he casually made a heavy threat of his own.
Micheal was not afraid of Angakok, he was not afraid of taking him on one on one and he was even less afraid of Angakok attacking heaven.
Amongst Hazriel, Raphael, Sariel and him the enemy stood absolutely no chance whatsoever.
The power of the heavens was the supreme.
Still, this was not a fight worth picking at the moment so Micheal departed empty handed.
*********
( Back in the Angels warship )
" That was a dick move you just made brother " Hazriel said as she was not happy that her brother sold her project out to Angakok just like that.
Micheal's attitude of Max wearing Hazriels gift around his neck was like he was wearing a dog collar.
The king of angels needed to understand that although he was a mortal, Hazriel did not view him as a pet.
" I did not do it to be a dick, I did it to probe him and I was right to do so.
If he had nothing to hide and he cared about the kid, his temper would have flared and his killing intent would leak immediately.
None of those things happened.
He was deliberately suppressing his rage so that I believed that he did not care about the mortal.
Whatever plan that old monster has for your boy, it's nothing kind, that much I'm sure of.
He absolutely doesn't give a damn about him " Micheal said as he patted Hazriel on the head
Hazriel frowned, she could no longer probe into Max's future as her skills as a prophet were lacking.
Whatever Angakok had planned for him, she could no longer warn him in advance about it.
From the last time where she bailed him out, he was on his own.
This was a problem he would need to solve on his own.
*********
( Meanwhile Sam Saint Maximus )
In the tallest, most ancient tower of the city, in a chamber made of polished obsidian, Sam Saint Maximus stood, his scarlet eyes staring down at the map of the dimensional battlefield.
The Saint Maximus clan, one of the oldest and most revered among the vampire families, was entrusted with the mission to scout for the King alongside their duties to secure the orbs.
Sam liked to sit in the tower to work because it was built in the heart of the city in the commercial district. From here Sam's natural superhuman hearing picked up the softest of whispers travelling through the stone and air.
He heard the clatter of armour, the shuffle of boots, the sharpening of blades echoing from the courtyards below where the young ones trained for battle. He heard the common folk murmuring their fears and hopes in hushed voices, the steady rhythm of their lives disrupted by the thunderous drums of war.
"Are the provisions secured?" Sam asked, as he heard the approaching footsteps of a bulky man who walked with a spring in his step.
"Yes, my lord," replied Lucian, his second in command and close confidant. "The hunters have returned with ample blood supply. The weaponsmiths are working overtime to ensure every soldier is armed. Healers have started collecting necessary herbs, and the spies from other planets have returned to the motherland."
Sam nodded, his eyes scanning the intricate map, calculating strategies and moves, visualising the chessboard of war.
He then moved toward the towering window that overlooked the city. He could see the worry etched on the faces of his clan, hear the throbbing pulse of fear in their veins.
"My people..." he began, his voice amplified magically to echo across the city, "I feel your fear. I hear your worries. But remember, we are the Saint Maximus. Our bloodline is ancient, our will is strong. Our ears hear danger from miles away, our hearts, the whispers of courage from within. This war... it is not our end. It is a testament to our strength.
Remember my words
We will not perish. "
A murmur spread across the city, his words seeding hope where fear had taken root. Sam continued to rally his people, assuring them of their might, their preparedness. He spoke of a future where they would recount the tales of their courage, their victory over the Dark Faction. The murmur grew louder, echoing his resolve, his faith in their victory.
When he finally finished, the city was alive with a renewed spirit. No longer were the whispers filled with fear but with conviction. The clamouring of the city had a rhythm, a unified beat that promised resistance against the impending storm.
While the city was renewed with energy, Sam looked extremely pale and weak, his nostrils bleeding from overexertion.
" Don't use the power of the whispers my lord. It's a curse…. Not even you with all your divinity can use it so frequently " Lucian said as he expressed his concerns for the health of the patriarch.
" I have to Lucian, I can't let our people be consumed by fear " Sam said as he wiped off the blood and sat back down at his seat and began staring at the map.
" Re-call Severus for me, In the off-chance that I don't make it back from the war, I need to prepare him to become the next patriarch.
He needs to learn the clan's deepest secrets " Sam said as he seemed to have made a decision today about the successor of the clan.
Only a month and a few days remained till the war started, a span of time that would pass in an instant.
But Sam needed to pass down his abilities to Severus before that happened.
Sam had no biological children, the clan was his only love and his first wife had long passed away from a political assassination.
Although there were many candidates to succeed him, many of whom were stronger and more involved in clan policy making than Severus, Sam believed that Severus was the best candidate of everyone to succeed him.
Although he was a bit crazy and emotional, he had the heart necessary to do good for the clan even if it meant he himself would need to suffer hardships.
Uptil now, Sam wanted to give him more time to grow, he wanted to wait a decade till he named him as his successor, but with the job that he king had assigned him and the dangers that the war brought, he could not leave the future of the clan undecided.
In the event of his death, someone needed to become the next patriarch and Sam would rather it be a Severus who was not prepared than some political bastard who would use the information gathering ability of the Saint Maximus clansmen and use it to blackmail his way into high society.
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