"Hah!"
Lexel shot up from his bed, a sharp gasp escaping his lips. The world tilted for a moment, and he was immediately, painfully, dizzy. "Ugh."
He squeezed his eyes shut, his hand flying to the back of his head. It was still tender, but the skull-splitting ache from yesterday's "disciplinary" action was gone, replaced by a dull, throbbing memory of impact.
He looked around, his vision clearing. The grandeur of his personal chamber in the Empyrean palace came into focus. The ceiling was impossibly high, painted with murals of forgotten constellations. The fine, silk sheets of his bed felt cool against his skin. Across the room, the morning sunrays of the upper realm streamed through the balcony doors, forcing the transparent curtains to dance in a gentle breeze that carried the scent of ozone and clouds.
"Damn," Lexel grumbled, rubbing his neck. "Master Graham could have been softer with the beating."
He whisked away the heavy blanket that covered him and swung his legs over the side of the bed. His feet landed on a rug made from the pelt of some legendary beast, its fur softer than cotton. He walked toward the balcony, his bare feet padding on the cool, white-marble floor. The sun kissed his feet first before he plunged his entire body into the warm, golden light.
The wind, clean and sharp at this altitude, instantly caught his dark-auburn hair, whipping his ponytail over his shoulder. His pupils, adjusted to the soft light of his room, dilated as he looked out.
A slow smile formed on his face. This was his home.
He could see the horizon, a perfect, curved line of impossible blue. Below him, the endless, white-clouds acted as if they were solid ground, a roiling, fluffy "sea" that separated Empyrean from the mortal world. Here, a storm was nothing but a minor pitfall, a jolt of lightning far beneath his feet.
"The Heaven Realm, the Mortal World, and the Hell Realm," he thought, leaning his arms on the railing. He felt the pure, "organic" Cultivation energy of the air seep into his skin. This was power. "And all the beauties that live on them," he smirked, his mind drifting.
"Ugh," he sighed, the smirk vanishing as a flash of memory passed him by. The Valkyrie team's changing room. The steam. The shout.
"I was so close to seeing BOOBS."
His brows jolted before he turned around, his acute Cultivator senses hearing the click of his chamber door. It was pushed open gently, and a figure entered.
This woman was a beauty of her own, distinct class. She was blessed with the hourglass look, her frame radiating a warmth that filled the entire room. Her hair was an iridescent blue, a perfect match for her kind, intelligent eyes. Her skin was as fair as snow, and as his father's son, Lexel couldn't help but objectively note: her boobs were grand.
She wore an alchemist's robe, but it was tailored in a way that did her body justice. The deep purple silk, the highest grade for an alchemist, was embroidered with silver runes. One could even see the diamond-shaped cleavage formed by her inner garment.
However, no lust ever formed in Lexel's eyes as he saw this woman. He'd been taught from birth: you can be a lecher, but you never disrespect family.
For this woman...
"Mother Maria," Lexel uttered, his voice softening.
Maria smiled, her blue eyes crinkling. "Oh, Lexel, you're awake." She immediately closed the distance, her robes whispering, and embraced him, pulling his head into her soft, warm chest in a way that would have driven any other man insane. "How's your head, dear? Graham didn't hit you too hard, did he?"
"It's better already," Lexel said, his voice slightly muffled. He gently pulled back. "Nobody would ever have thought that I was slammed, head-first, into the paving. Not with your healing, Mother."
"Oh, you sweet-talker," Maria said, her smile bright as she lightly pulled his cheek. "You're just like your father."
Lexel's face instinctively soured. "I'm nothing like him," he sighed. He turned back to the horizon, his hair riding the wind. "He's... him. He's a great man, a hero, a legend, an Emperor. He reached the Zenith Realm in his twenties. That's... that's beyond god. I'm just..."
"A lecher? Just like he was?"
Lexel sputtered. "W-W-Well," he stammered, caught. "If you put it that way, then... I guess I am." He shrugged, a proud, perverted smirk (the one he did inherit) spreading across his face.
"Hehehe, see?" Maria chuckled, a sound like tiny, silver bells. "You three are all alike. You all have his 'spirit,' in different ways. Why don't you eat downstairs first? You must be feeling hungry."
"Not really, I—"
GUUUURRRRRR.
Lexel froze. A sound like a trapped giant, a massive, rumbling roar, erupted from his stomach. It was so loud it echoed off the high ceiling.
"Heeh, that's a loud one~" Maria giggled, covering her mouth. She turned to leave. "I have to concoct some pills for my anniversary."
"Anniversary?" Lexel raised his brows, before his mind, (a very perverted mind), did the math. He realized which anniversary she was talking about. "Oh. Oh gods. Is it... that time again?"
"Yup," Maria said, a shade of bright red appearing on her face. "You know how your father... looks forward to this."
"Ughhh," Lexel had black lines over his head. A flash of... disgust... ran through him as he imagined what that meant. His goosebumps rose.
His ears perked up. "Huh?" He turned back to the edge of the balcony, the feeling of disgust replaced by a new, sharp focus. He scanned the horizon. "Did you see that?"
"See what, dear?"
"A small... black spark. Right between the clouds." He squinted, but it was gone. "...Nothing. It's gone now."
"Oi," a voice called out from below.
Lexel peeked over his balcony railing. "Oi." It was Seleron, already dressed, looking impatient.
"Oi," Myda called out from another corner balcony, waving.
"Oi," the three of them said in unison, a daily, idiotic ritual.
"Good afternoon, young masters," a calm and just voice came from directly behind Lexel, appearing without a sound.
"ACK!" Lexel instinctively yelped and jumped out of the balcony, his feet tripping over the low ledge. "Ah crap!" he flailed, falling with his face about to smooch the ground far below.
A hand reached out, grabbing the back of his robe and putting him up right on the balcony railing with the most minimal, effortless motion.
"Be careful, young master," the figure adjusted his spotless white gloves. He wore the finest thing a butler could wear, a suit pressed to perfection. His hair was pitch-black and slicked back. His boots were spotless. He had the charm of a handsome, neat, and terrifyingly competent man.
"Master Assid," Seleron called up from below, his voice laced with respect.
"The afternoon meal is ready," Assid said, his voice never rising, yet it carried over the wind. "It would be a waste if the young masters let the food get cold. Or," he adjusted his glasses, a tiny glint in his eye, "...to interrupt your parents'... anniversary preparations."
"RIGHT!" The three of them nodded in unison, their faces pale. That was the last thing they wanted to do. In an instant, they were gone, three blurs of Cultivation energy racing from their rooms toward the dining hall.
Assid looked at the three of them vanish, and the seriousness on his face faded into a soft, rare smile before he calmly followed behind them.
The dining hall was a marvel, with a ceiling higher than their chambers, all held up by beams of pure, polished gold. But the three brothers had no eyes for the elegance.
"Last one there is a rotten Hellboar!" Lexel shouted, sliding through the door.
The long tables were filled to the brim with an exquisite, festive meal. It was a three-man buffet. From corner to corner, not a single plate was the same: steaming, dragon-scale-seared fish; roasted Kunpeng; mountains of fried rice.
They were like shredders.
Assid furrowed his brows as he entered the dining hall. Not because of how they ate—he was used to that—but because of the one rooting them on.
"Yeah! C'mon! Lexel, stop slacking! My money is on you against Ian!" a new voice shouted.
This woman, sitting on the table, had wild, shoulder-length hair—half-white, half-black. She had a short, lithe, and powerful figure, her body coiled like a spring. She wore a robe with a black hoodie, designed for movement, speed, and brute-force. She was Kesya, the "Pillar of Motion."
"M-Master Kesya, I think it's wiser to bet on Seleron! He is speed!" Lexel muffled through a mouthful of beast-shank.
"I'm not here to be wise, young one, huhu," Kesya cackled, waving a betting slip. "I'm here to win my money back!"
"Gkh!" Seleron's eyes went wide. He'd tried to swallow too fast. He was choking.
"OH, HE'S CHOKING! HE'S CHOKING!! NOW'S YOUR CHANCE, LEXEL!!" Kesya screamed, banging on the table.
"You idiot, help him!" Assid roared, his "calm" gone. He swooped in and put Seleron in a perfect Heimlich maneuver. With one, powerful thrust, a large piece of bone launched out of Seleron's mouth, rocketing across the hall.
"Yo! I heard the race is on—GHK!"
A new, careless man with a loose robe had just entered the dining hall and, with impossible, comic timing, caught the bone in his throat.
"GOCK! GOCK GOCK GOCK!" he gurgled, trying to cough as his face turned blue. He was Ian, the "Pillar of Fortitude."
"OH crap, Ian!" Kesya leaned in.
But another man, who had been there the whole time, stepped in. This one was slender, a handsome man with long, dark hair and a simple sword at his side. He was Liu, the "Pillar of the Blade."
"Hm?" Liu looked down to see Ian rolling left and right. He had black lines over his head. He pulled up his sword.
"HMMM!!!" Ian muffled a scream.
However, Liu grabbed his blade by the scabbard and thrust the tip of the handle into Ian's diaphragm, launching the bone back out. Then, while it was in the air, he unsheathed his blade in a silver flash, slashed the bone into a dozen perfect, tiny pieces, and re-sheathed it, all in less than a second.
"Oh, it's Master Liu," Myda said, calmly taking another bite of his food, as if he hadn't just watched a master-class in "impulse control vs. chaos."
The dining hall, filled with some of the most powerful beings in the "Three Worlds," was in absolute, chaotic, normal bliss.
It was in this exact moment of chaos, as Lexel was laughing so hard he was about to choke himself, that his eyes drifted to the grand courtyard window.
The "black spark" he had seen from his balcony was back. And then disappeared.