"Forgive me, my Lord Praeceptor, but this is the only human clothing we have," Times replied with an unfazed expression after giving me a new outfit. I looked at the ripped fabrics scattered around the giant tree. What's the name of that tree again?
Yeah, that. I sighed. If I knew my body mass would increase after receiving Dominion's divinity, I would have at least anticipated the rash way in which I destroyed the clothes these Vyurbornes very kindly gave me. I didn't even realize that I was naked when I made that speech for Times. Luckily, the other generals haven't arrived yet, and even more fortunate was that Times had enough time to find spare clothes for me.
Unfortunately, if my last shirt was too tight, this new one Times gave me, a white polo shirt, wouldn't even fit my body; try as I might, I could do nothing to button the damn thing up. Well, if it's any consolation, the loose black monk pants that Times found fit me perfectly, but it's a tad bit too short, so it almost reached my ankle.
"Nah, it's fine. Give me that instead." I pointed at the black see-through cardigan dangling on his wrist.
Times wordlessly gave me the cardigan, and it fit me well, but again, it's a bit short. Not that I mind it much. I then climbed up the stairs and sat at the very top step beside the now overgrown Essence of Beauty.
I nodded my head at Times. "Send them in."
Times opened the double door fully and seven Vyurbornes wearing fancy light armors with detailed engravings, a few gold ornaments, and violet shawls. They just stared at me without moving from outside the chamber. My surroundings were dark, but I could see well enough to read their countenances. I wonder if this is another perk of accepting Dominion's divinity. Regardless, I could fully understand what's going through their mind right now. Their eyes said it all. The way their eyebrows twitched, the clear doubt on their eyes, and the way their jaws dropped.
I am not welcome here. This human should not be the one leading us.
"Allow me to present the seven Great Generals of Skystead Keep, my Lord Praeceptor, led by yours truly, your loyal Warlord, Times Newell Roma." Times then observed the still stunned generals at the corner of his eyes. The Vyurborne warlord cleared his throat, but none of the seven generals just ignored his subtle signal. After a while, he finally lost his composure and snapped. "Are you just gonna stand there?" A twinge of anger painted his tone, but he still kept it cool.
The generals flinched and looked at Times with a twinge of confusion on their faces. Well, not all of them, at least. The youngest among them entered the chamber and stood beside Times with a smug grin plastered on his face. He bowed down before me and nailed his gaze at me; I don't know why, but I could feel malicious energy spewing at the young general's eyes, almost as if he was looking at me with disgust. Just like most Vyurbornes I've seen so far, he also has wings, pale skin, and long black hair.
"Praeceptor," The young general's slick voice resonated around the chamber. "Keizer Vertgren III, reporting for duty."
A middle-aged man with graying hair followed the young man. He stood beside Times as well; the Vyurborne warlord nodded slightly at the general standing beside him, a look of camaraderie painted on their relaxed faces. If it weren't for the more prominent wrinkles around Times' cheek, I would have thought I saw two versions of him before me.
"Gavin Roma at your service! I'll be your wings, my Lord Praeceptor." The middle-aged generals' loud voice boomed in the chamber as he pounded his tails twice on the ground.
'Roma? Times' relative?'
'Ah!'
I nodded at the middle-aged general as I sat leisurely at the top of the steps. Once the two generals introduced themselves, the other five rushed to line up around Times as well.
"Gerard Flinch of the Flinch nobles." He stood beside the young general Keizer.
"The name's Castor Herd, my Lord Praeceptor! I will do my best to meet your standards." He stood beside the middle-aged general Gavin.
"Arnold Johnson of the proud Johnson clan, here to aid Lord Dominion." He stood on the young general's side.
"Carlyle Jones, working with my family in the service of the god of Skystead Keep." This one also stood on the young general's side.
"It's very nice to meet you, my Lord Praeceptor. I am Garland Troupe of err… not a very special family, but my mama did not raise a quitter." This last one stood on the middle-aged general's side.
"What happened to the eighth one?" I repeated Dominion's concern; there's supposed to be one more of them, huh?
"General Aramis died of natural causes at the eighth year of Lord Dominion's absence, my Lord Praeceptor." Times took the initiative to answer my prying question. "I'm afraid the general's frail heart finally took the best of her. We're currently looking for a fitting replacement."
'How fitting that she died at the eighth year of your vacation break.'
'It does look like it. Most of them aren't very receptive of me, huh?'
'We should start at where we are in the war first.'
"Times," I laid my head over my knuckles as I beckoned the warlord's attention.
Times stepped forward and knelt on the ground. "Yes, my Lord Praeceptor."
"Explain where we are in the war right now."
He stood up. "Yes, my Lord Praeceptor. We are—"
Times was about to answer my command when I heard a chuckle from behind him. It was coming from the young general Keizer. Times was about to reprimand the young general, but I gestured him to stop.
"What seems to be the problem, Keizer?" I asked, annoyed at his sudden interruption.
"Oh, nothing, nothing! I just find it funny how you don't even know anything after seeing the damn field on your own." Keizer chuckled while shaking his head. "What are you gonna ask the warlord next? How our army works?" He's practically laughing at this point.
"Yes," I replied without moving a twitch on my face.
"Are you serious? And you expect us to follow you? How can this clueless guy possibly win a war for us? I bet he'll just make General Times do all the work for him!"
"That's enough!" Times finally lost his cool upon hearing Keizer's mockeries.
"It's okay, Times." I then pointed my arms into the open double door.
"What?" Keizer scoffed. A few other generals snickered at his words. General Gavin and the two other generals beside him glared at the young general with an insulted scowl. "What's that supposed to mean?" Keizer continued.
"The door is open, boy. Why don't you wag your tail off my room and tell your daddy how you owned the new Praeceptor?" I looked straight at Keizer with a bored expression; clearly, I am too old for his games.
The young general just shrugged and flew off the chamber.
"Anyone else who wishes to leave with the boy better do it now."
The other generals standing around Keizer also turned their backs away from me save for one of them.
"Anyone else?" I looked at every general left; the ones beside General Gavin looked insulted and even nervous at their colleagues' behavior, but it didn't seem like they would leave anytime soon. I then directed my gaze at the remaining general standing on Keizer's side. "How about you, General Flinch?"
Silence took over the chamber. All eyes bent on General Flinch, a scrawny man with wrinkled wings and short black hair. It just dawned on me that he had his eyes closed for a while now. Perhaps I hadn't noticed General Flinch much because of how little his presence was; he just seemed like such an underwhelming man, and I would have never thought he was a general if it weren't for his fancy clothes.
But in the end, he decided to follow Keizer's lead. "This is not personal, Praeceptor."
We all watched him leave. General Gavin just huffed a breath as if wordlessly proclaiming that he doesn't need any of those people. General Castor scowled as if he was about to punch someone in the face if I weren't around; meanwhile, General Garland just shook his head with a half-smile as if showing how embarrassed he is for the ones who left.
"Alright." I sighed. "Where were we?"