Unlike what he had expected, they didn't bite.
A woman walked forward and took the lead. She had long black hair, green eyes, and from the marks on her skin and its green spots, it was obvious she was an undead.
"How can you fly?"
Amon tilted his head to the side, not sure why this mattered but he answered nonetheless.
"I'm just standing on the neutral aether around us using my own innate aether. A bit like water and oil but on the scale of the world." He explained.
"I heard only 'ancestors' could truly fly, eh?"
The five were instantly shocked hearing Amon's method. Beyond the fact that they hated him for daring to challenge their hegemony, the reason why they had attacked so fast was because they sensed his aura.
But when they saw him in the flesh, they immediately realized that something was wrong. Unlike Amon, they had been trained in the ways of the spirit sense and pushed it to a realm where it could even determine truths from falsehoods.
But even worse, after Amon had sent his beams toward them, they could feel the age of his aether which indirectly told them his true age.
He was seventeen.
His aether was so young and yet so destructive, potent, and pure. It made no sense.
That many shocking matters happening at once left her baffled, so instinctively, she had asked.
The woman's gaze trembled seeing Amon silently look at her, his gaze just as steady and his smile just as radiant.
For some reason, she felt pressured.
'Bloodline…suppression…'
She exhaled a breath.
"You've offended a group of people you cannot afford to offend. You dying at our hands is mercy." Her aura rose. "Forfeit your life and your family may be able to gaze at your cold body."
Within her hands, a sword appeared.
Seeing them all take their weapons out, Amon shook his head.
"The noble truly never learn. I wonder, standing atop the pyramid, looking down, does it not get easy to recognize patterns?"
"Does the horizon not warn of the coming storm? The approaching tsunamis? The impending earthquake?"
He sighed.
"To have such luxurious lives yet such rotten souls."
He swung his arm.
"The Heavens are just as unfair as they are fair, I suppose."
***
Amon calmly walked toward the grand doors of an even grander palace, emitting faint wisps of black and green aether.
He wasn't very impressed by the grandeur and scenery of it all, but what did catch his attention were the materials that made the palace in front of him.
'Whoever made this must've been really skilled. This palace is more of a ship than anything.'
Suddenly, a man appeared in front of him.
With short slicked-back black hair, pupils of swirling white and gold, and a two-piece suit, he seemed to embody the word elegance.
His beard was perfectly groomed, a reflection of the sharp and pure aura he emitted.
He looked at Amon for a few seconds before he looked past him at the impaled bodies of the five nobles who had attacked him.
He sighed.
"Young man, there was no need to be so brutal. The young ones of the capital may have seen such a display."
The man turned back and walked toward the gate. Amon followed.
"Hm? They aren't dead. As for the kids, if you truly cared, you would've stopped them from attacking me in the first place. The outcome would've been the same either way."
"Either they get brutally defeated or I get brutally killed. Not much to linger on, to be honest."
Hearing Amon's reply, the man sighed once more, aware of the incoming headache that was the young man behind him.
'Aiya, let's hope his highness can calm him down before any of the seat holders hear of this.'
***
Amon found himself in the middle of a pit-like court.
As he stood in this pit, above, on elevated thrones, powerful figures shrouded in aether could be seen, each sending him terrifying gazes.
To this, he merely chuckled and smiled, unbothered by it all.
Amon knew that by challenging for a royal seat, he'd get this treatment. If he came, it meant he was sure he'd be able to leave with his life intact if it came down to it.
But he didn't plan to leave.
Among the dozens of figures sat on thrones up and around Amon, a single one wasn't shrouded by aether.
It was a woman of the Lich species. She had long hair of green fire, textured like a flowing river of emerald magma, and her bones were black, covered in runes of purple and gold.
Despite this, she seemed like any beauty, as attached to her skeleton, a sort of exoskeleton could be seen, giving her the forms and curves of any woman.
She wore robes of pure white and bore a charming smile.
Amon's gaze met hers, a swirling void of green flames, but instead of being intimidated, he winked at her before looking back.
The woman didn't even have time to be stunned that the judgment had begun.
***
"State your purpose."
A cold voice echoed.
"As I've told your people, I've come to challenge one of the royal seat holders, which is within my rights as an Undead." He answered, his tone even yet backed by a momentum that made these elders frown.
"Hmph. You come from a bloodline we do not-"
Before he could continue, Amon shook his head, and for the first time, he infused his aether into his blood, willingly activating his lineage.
BANG!
The veil of aether that shrouded all these elders was torn to pieces as an aether pressure the likes of which only the leaders had descended.
The already dark skies seemed to get a shade darker, the winds violently tore and whipped about as the ground trembled without end.
Amon raised a palm and cut it open, allowing his blood to freely pour out.
"My blood is as noble and pure as it gets. If you reject me, then you are rejecting yourselves, as I can claim no one in this world has blood purer than mine." He boldly stated.
Though even he was surprised by the power of his lineage and didn't know anything about it, from the memories he'd gotten as his time as the Sun of Flesh, it surely couldn't be weak.
"This…."
The elders were shocked, unable to process what they were currently seeing and feeling.
From the beginning, deep down, they knew Amon was trouble.
Being an Undead while having such a perfect and powerful body could only mean one of two things.
Either Amon was a Zero generation Undead, meaning he was the first of his lineage or it meant that Amon…
'…a bastard son of the Undead Patriarch…'