After Mian had gotten his fill, he finally stepped out of the Patriarch's chambers and headed into one of the main tunnels that led directly to the main chambers. Earlier, a messenger had come to tell him that his presence was needed in the main chambers.
With a hand, Mian pushed aside the animal hide that obscured the chamber and stepped it. The moment he did, the furious whispers that rang through the room went quiet at once. Twelve pairs of eyes stared him down, threatening to bore through him just by their intensity alone.
"Mian," Daven's voice cut through the tension. "Please, come and take your sit beside me while I introduce you." The large, gray furred Werewolf patted the spot beside him.
With a seed of nervousness beginning to bloom in his heart, Mian made his way across the room, trying his best not to appear nervous or pressured. His Rank Privilege, the Minor Leadership Talent, had miraculously given him some much needed backbone and a boost in confidence that he sorely needed.
After a dozen seconds that seemed to drag on forever in Mian's mind, he finally sat down beside Daven and on the opposite side from the twelve extremely powerful dominants. He knew of them, even if he had never seen them before. They were the twelve council members.
"Let me introduce you all." Daven spoke. Mian noticed a strange air passing through the ranks of the council members but passed it off as his budding nervousness.
"Let me start with Balvan." Daven began. He motioned to the dark brown furred Werewolf that was to the far left. "Balvan is one of the three Heads of the Scout Regiment. He is in charge of most of our scouting and information collecting activities in the pack. He is extremely reliable and is trusted for the validity of the information that he relays to us." Daven nodded at Balvan, who had a plain and unbothered look on his face. The Werewolf studied Mian with sharp, probing eyes that made Mian's fur prickle.
"Next is Rakon." Daven motioned toward the white furred Werewolf. The man also studied Mian with his brilliant blue eyes. His long ears constantly twitched, as though irritated by some strange sound that Mian could not hear. "Rakon is the second head of the Scout Regiment. He is in charge of a brilliant, magical mental network that is able to link the minds of very important people, allowing for a very easy flow of information."
Mian's eyes lit up when he heard the term 'mental network'. Perhaps it was similar to the means that Hana used to speak to him.
"Next is..."
Daven dutifully introduced Mian to each and every demi-human there was in the chamber at that moment. The third head of the Scout Regiment, the head of their workforce, and others. But he intentionally left Azreal for last.
"Last but not least, Azreal." A strange look that no one noticed passed through Daven's eyes. Mian turned his gaze to the dark furred Werewolf. The powerful man's fur shone under the light that seeped into the chambers, making it look like he had doused himself in oil before coming here, but in fact, his shiny fur was all natural.
"Azreal is the head of our warriors. He is in charge of mobilizing out warriors to face any threat that is being directed at the pack..." Daven trailed off before letting out a sigh.
"Mian." He spoke up. His voice held a different tone to it than before, however. The tone of his voice compelled everyone to turn their attention to him.
"Yes, Patriarch?" Mian hurriedly turned to face Daven, prying his eyes away from Azreal's bandaged stump of a right arm. It seemed he had lost it just recently.
'The war...' Mian thought grimly to himself.
"Do you know why you are here now, receiving all this information?"
"No, Patriarch." Mian shook his head.
"Very well, I will tell you then... Your performance in the war was splendid. If it were not for you, then I would have very well died, and we would have lost the war. Because of that, I have decided to make you a member of my Council. Mian, you are now a Council member."
"I-what? Sorry, hat?! A council member?!" Mian stumbled over his words as he tried to comprehend Daven's words.
Before Daven could reply though, someone else cut in.
"Excuse me for cutting you short, Patriarch, but I truly wonder how Mian could have possibly done anything against the Pillar and at the same time, save your life."
The one who spoke up had been Azreal. The one-armed man watched Mian with eyes that threatened to slice through him.
"It is quite simple, really." Daven shook his head with a twisted smile. "Mian fought the Pillar."
"IMPOSSIBLE!" The council members erupted! "How could a mere middle rank fight a Pillar when three of the most powerful dominants in the pack failed to match up?!"
"Silence!!" Daven's voice boomed across the room. While he was usually quite tolerant towards his council, he would not have them discredit his words so easily.
The room turned silent in an instant. The pressure that Daven radiated seemed to do the job of shutting them up. Surprisingly, that pressure washed over Mian's mind like it was not even there, surprising even Daven himself who had forgotten about Mian's weakness for a moment. The image of Mian going toe to toe with the Pillar had already cemented Mian's powerful figure in his mind.
The gray furred Werewolf turned to Mian with a solemn look on his face before speaking.
"Mian... Now, truth be told, I do not know how you accomplished what you did back there, but I am truly grateful. Without you, I would be dead right now, and even after I survived, my strength would have been completely halved as it was." Daven's hand unconsciously went to the scar on his shoulder, dragging the gazes of the others present.
Truth be told, when they had seen that injury, they were confused. Before the battle, there had been no injury there, and anything gotten from a powerful figure like the Pillar would have surely taken longer to heal, but Daven had returned with a completely healed wound.
At first, they had assumed that their leader had experienced a breakthrough in his power, raising him to an all new height, but upon hearing his words at them moment, they began doubting their former conclusions.
"Mian, I do not know what miracle you performed, but please, help Azreal regain his arm, in the same way you helped me."