SPIRITBINDER: The Boy Without A Mark
Chapter 40: The Seven Rulers on a Meeting

Chapter 40: The Seven Rulers on a Meeting

Crimson stepped forward, his piercing gaze scanning the restless crowd. The tension in the arena was palpable, but his commanding presence kept most of the murmurs at bay. After a brief pause, he raised his voice with deliberate calm.

"Perhaps it is simply the clouds," Crimson said, gesturing toward the overcast sky. "The gods may not see us clearly tonight. We will attempt the Awakening Ceremony again on another time."

The announcement did little to soothe the crowd. A low hum of discontent rippled through the benches until one man finally stood and shouted, "This is absurd! There have been ceremonies in cloudy weather before, and they went perfectly fine! Why is this happening now?"

Crimson’s jaw tightened, but before he could respond, Medas stepped in. "We’ll see in the next ceremony," he declared firmly, his tone leaving no room for argument. "For now, this one is concluded."

With that, the ceremony was officially brought to an end, leaving the crowd dissatisfied but without recourse. The rulers made their way from the arena as the fifteen-year-olds dispersed, their confusion and unease lingering in the air.

The seven rulers of Baltalaha convened shortly after in Katakwan’s administrative hall, a grand yet utilitarian structure at the heart of the kingdom. Inside, the walls were lined with ancient banners symbolizing unity among the kingdoms—a fragile concept in moments like this.

The rulers entered the meeting room, their presence commanding even in silence. Crimson took his place at the head of the long obsidian table, his armor gleaming faintly in the low light.

Crimson, ruler of Katakwan, was a figure whose strength and martial prowess were unmatched. His kingdom was one of excess, where indulgence and luxury permeated every aspect of life. Known for his impeccable combat skills, Crimson’s rule was characterized by an appetite for power that knew no bounds.

To his right sat Medas, ruler of Ketamran, a kingdom where time seemed to slow down, and its people valued intellectual pursuits over swift action. Medas possessed telekinesis, a subtle yet potent power that reflected his kingdom’s calm, measured approach to everything. Though the kingdom itself was not quick to act, Medas’ precision and calculation made him an essential force.

Next to Medas was Dergo, a massive figure with a presence that demanded attention. His kingdom was built on physical might, where strength was revered above all. Dergo’s superhuman strength was legendary, and his people thrived on labor and combat. Despite his imposing exterior, Dergo possessed a sharp mind and an understanding of battle tactics that made him both a powerful ally and a dangerous adversary.

Across from Dergo sat Vianna, ruler of Nirvath, a kingdom where beauty and perfection were paramount. Vianna could manipulate emotions, and her power allowed her to sway the hearts and minds of others, guiding them toward either admiration or chaos. Her kingdom’s culture was built on pride and achievement, with every citizen striving to achieve greatness in appearance, art, and reputation.

Beside Vianna was Ikana, ruler of Vragal, a kingdom known for its allure and temptation. Vragal was a place where passion and desire guided every decision, and Ikana’s ability to manipulate probability made her a force to be reckoned with. Her people were driven by their desires, and their kingdom thrived on their ability to fulfill them, regardless of the cost.

Further down the table sat Deus, ruler of Gravion, a kingdom where wealth and acquisition were central to its identity. Deus had the unusual ability to enhance his strength through consumption, and his kingdom thrived on the constant accumulation of resources and power. Despite his seemingly carefree nature, Deus was a master strategist, always looking for ways to increase his kingdom’s influence.

Finally, Levan, ruler of Tervag, sat at the end of the table. His kingdom was defined by competition and the constant desire to outdo others. The people of Tervag were always striving to be better than those around them, and Levan’s power of replication allowed him to mimic others’ abilities to surpass them. He was both a master of adaptation and a threat to anyone who sought to challenge his rule.

Crimson broke the silence. "What happened tonight was unprecedented. Never in our history has the Awakening Ceremony failed so completely. We need answers."

The room fell into a heavy silence as the rulers exchanged glances, each wrestling with their own thoughts. The tension was palpable, and it was clear that this meeting would not be an easy one.

Morvane stepped forward and moved to the side of the room, drawing the attention of the other rulers.

"Who are you?" Dergo’s voice rumbled with suspicion as he eyed the newcomer.

Morvane stood tall, his resolve unwavering. "I am from Ketamran. Perhaps I can help with this."

He then raised his hand slightly, calling out to the room. "Drevon."

With a faint shimmer, the figure of Drevon materialized before them. A chill ran through the room as all the rulers—except Crimson and Medas, who already knew of Drevon—gasped in shock.

"That is a demon!" Levan’s voice was sharp, his hand instinctively reaching for a weapon at his side.

Drevon simply shrugged, a smirk forming at the corner of his mouth. "Yeah, I’m a demon. So what?"

He turned his attention to Morvane. "Why did you call me again? Do you need something?"

Morvane nodded, stepping closer. "The Awakening Ceremony earlier... everyone was markless, like me."

There was a pause, the weight of the statement sinking in as the rulers exchanged confused glances.

"You’re the markless from the past year, right?" Ikana asked, her voice tinged with curiosity.

Morvane nodded slowly. "Yes. Just like the others today." He turned to face them all. "This isn’t a coincidence. I believe something has happened. Something... unnatural."

Drevon crossed his arms, clearly intrigued by the situation, but not quite alarmed. "Seems like your world is falling apart, huh?" He glanced at the rulers. "The Awakening Ceremony never failed like that before, has it? Something’s off."

Crimson, having remained silent, furrowed his brow in thought, his gaze intense as he looked at Morvane. "You might be onto something," he muttered, more to himself than anyone else. "But what does it mean for all of us?"

As the rulers continued to exchange questions and concerns, the atmosphere in the room grew heavier, the gravity of the situation becoming more apparent with every passing moment.

Morvane stood his ground, his mind racing with possibilities, knowing that whatever had just happened was only the beginning of something far larger than anyone could have anticipated.

Morvane’s gaze shifted between the rulers and Drevon, his mind racing with a troubling thought. He stepped forward slightly, his voice filled with uncertainty but urgency.

"Could it be... that the demons gave everyone in today’s ceremony power? Are they all like me?"

Drevon raised an eyebrow, a bemused smile creeping onto his face. "That’s impossible. There are only ten demons like me, and each demon can only grant one Baltalahan power. That’s the rule set by the gods of heaven." He leaned back, crossing his arms. "They’ve already set that law in stone. Only one in each lifetime is marked—only one is destined to have the power of a demon, and that’s you."

Morvane’s heart sank as Drevon’s words settled in. He took a deep breath, his mind spinning. "Then... how did this happen?"

Drevon’s face darkened slightly, the usual smirk gone. "I don’t know either. This has never happened before. Maybe this year’s Awakening Ceremony... everyone is just powerless, unworthy. Perhaps this is their way of telling us the gods have decided this generation is to be forgotten."

The room fell silent, the weight of the conversation pressing heavily on each ruler.

Levan’s voice broke through the silence, tinged with frustration. "Unworthy? You mean they simply failed? Or are we all missing something here?"

Drevon gave a slight shrug. "I can’t speak for the gods, but it’s clear that something is wrong. This isn’t just a failed ceremony. It’s something more. Maybe the gods are making a point, maybe they are testing us, or maybe..." He trailed off, his eyes narrowing as if a thought had just occurred to him.

Morvane’s mind whirled, his connection to Drevon’s power never more evident as he considered the implications of what was happening. He had felt the power, the immense strength the demon had given him. But to think that everyone else could be equally markless, equally powerless—this was something entirely new.

"I’ll find out what happened," Morvane muttered to himself, though not entirely aware he spoke out loud.

Crimson, still standing at the head of the table, let out a low sigh. "If there’s a way to fix this, we need to know soon. If our people are truly powerless, the consequences could be devastating."

Drevon grinned wryly, his usual nonchalance returning. "That’s your problem now, isn’t it?"

Morvane’s thoughts raced as he processed Drevon’s words. If what the demon said was true—if the Awakening Ceremony had failed for everyone else, then this wasn’t just a coincidence. Something had gone wrong, something that threatened not only the balance of power among the rulers but also the future of the entire Baltalahan realm. Was it truly a sign of divine judgment, or was there something more sinister at play? The weight of uncertainty gnawed at him, and for the first time since the ceremony began, he felt the full gravity of what might be at stake.