Maximus had never been the ideal candidate for the throne, or so the opposing faction often reminded him. Their disdain for his ascension was no secret, and their whispers of doubt echoed throughout the halls of Wolfstadt.
He was the bastard son of the former king, born of an affair with a maid—an origin they considered beneath the dignity of a king. But scandalous lineage aside, Maximus was the only heir.
The former king had been assassinated in his prime, and his union with the current queen had borne no children. Her infertility left the royal line teetering on the brink of collapse.
For years after his father's death, the throne remained vacant. At the time, Maximus was just a scrawny teenager—unprepared, unprotected, and utterly powerless. Those years had been a constant battle for survival, with the crown little more than a distant, unattainable dream.
The greatest threat to his life was not the faceless factions opposing him, but the former Grand Duke Lupin Silverfang. A man whose ambition was as sharp as his cunning mind.
Silverfang had orchestrated countless attempts on his life throughout his adolescence. His sole motivation was the belief that his own son—Lupin Silverfang II, Maximus' cousin, was the rightful and more deserving heir to the throne.
Those years had been harrowing, each assassination attempt more ruthless than the last. But Maximus survived, not through sheer strength, but through resilience forged by fire. His ascension wasn't just a claim to power—it was a statement that he had endured where others would have perished.
And now, despite the disdain of his critics and the blood-stained path that had brought him here, he sat on the throne. A reminder to all that he wasn't just the king by birthright—but was the king chosen by the Goddess Aeon.
The fact that he could speak Götter solidified his claim to the throne. Unlike his cousin, who had never been chosen by fate, Maximus' fluency marked him as divinely ordained—a distinction that no amount of ambition or treachery could erase. This undeniable legitimacy drove the former Grand Duke Lupin Silverfang to commit treason, utterly consumed by his desire for power.
What many failed to understand about Götter was that it was far more than a ceremonial language of the divine. Beyond its ethereal beauty and association with the Goddess, Götter was the language of incantation, the vessel through which the most potent and ancient spells were woven.
The former Grand Duke, blinded by his ambition, had underestimated him. He had dismissed the young king as unworthy, failing to grasp the depths of his capabilities. What Silverfang hadn't accounted for was Maximus' ability to chant in Götter, harnessing his unparalleled might.
Maximus' victory was not achieved through the sheer numbers of loyal soldiers at his command but through the overwhelming, untapped power that slumbered within him. It was this devastating strength that sealed the Grand Duke's fate.
In the end, Lupin Silverfang's relentless ambition proved futile. His schemes crumbled, and he perished without so much as laying a scratch on Maximus. Not a single strand of the young king's hair was harmed.