Reborn As Noble Chapter 1498: The Weight of a Master’s Wrath ( 1498 )

Primarch kept walking, his steps steady and unhurried, his voice calm as it carried over his shoulder.

"You will know about it soon enough. For now, we must not keep our Master waiting."

Luvia glanced around, her brow furrowing as she noticed the absence of their fourth sibling. "What about Gryre? Shouldn’t he be joining us?"

Primarch’s voice remained calm and measured, each word delivered with the same unhurried authority.

"I already informed Gryre to summon you both. However... knowing Gryre, I doubt he delivered the message. He tends to become distracted. Especially when he finds something that catches his interest. Once his attention is captured, everything else fades into the background. Messages, orders, even the passage of time itself."

Selon let out a low, lazy snort. "Figures. That greedy bastard probably got sidetracked by his own reflection in a silver spoon."

Luvia crossed her arms under her breast, her expression souring. She let out a small, frustrated sigh, shaking her head slowly.

"What a waste. He has such a handsome face, that sharp jaw, those calm eyes, that tall, composed frame. So much presence. So much potential. And yet he spends his days muttering over trinkets and polishing old coins. Such a complete and utter waste of a perfectly good man."

Selon rolled his eyes, his voice flat and bored. "If you’re that desperate, just go rub yourself against his treasure pile. Maybe he’ll notice you."

"Shut up, Selon."

Primarch continued walking, his voice calm and steady as he spoke.

"Regardless. Whatever distractions Gryre may have, I am certain he is already in the main hall. He would never risk being late in front of the Master, not when there is a chance to be rewarded... or punished."

He paused for a brief moment, his voice dropping into something lower, more serious.

"We should not keep our Master waiting. You both know what happens when he is kept waiting. His patience is not infinite. And when it runs out, none of us will be spared from his wrath. So I suggest you both move a little faster."

Main Hall.

The hall was vast and imposing, its walls carved from dark, jagged stone that pulsed faintly with veins of molten red. Towering pillars lined the path, each one etched with ancient, forbidden runes that glowed with a dim, malevolent light.

At the far end of the hall stood a massive throne, carved from obsidian and adorned with intricate, glowing red runes that pulsed like a living heartbeat.

On either side of the throne, eight seats were arranged in perfect symmetry, four on the left and four on the right, separated by a wide walkway that led directly to the throne. Each seat was carved from the same dark stone, their armrests shaped like coiled serpents with glowing ruby eyes.

Scattered throughout the hall, bulky devils stood guard. They were massive, muscle-bound creatures with thick horns curling from their skulls, their skin like cracked obsidian. Each one wore full, heavy armor that gleamed with a dark, malevolent sheen, and each held a massive flaming axe, the blades wreathed in black fire that hissed and crackled in the still air.

Primarch pushed open the heavy doors, the sound echoing through the vast hall. Selon and Luvia stepped in behind him, their footsteps measured and quiet. Gryre was already seated in his designated place, his fingers gently stroking a dark purple gem, his eyes gleaming with quiet admiration as he turned it over in his hands.

Primarch moved toward his seat with calm, deliberate steps, his posture regal and composed. Selon and Luvia followed, taking their places beside him, standing in silent anticipation.

The moment they were all in position, the devil guards snapped to attention and slammed the butts of their flaming axes against the stone floor, a single, thunderous impact that echoed through the hall like a war drum.

The air grew heavy.

A figure emerged from the shadows behind the throne, his presence commanding and absolute. He wore full black armor adorned with intricate golden stripes that gleamed with a faint, ethereal light. Massive black wings unfurled behind him, their feathers dark as midnight, each one edged with a subtle golden shimmer.

He moved with a regal, unhurried grace, each step deliberate and measured. His face was partially obscured by a dark helm, but his eyes glowed with a cold, ancient light, carrying the weight of countless eons.

He reached the throne and turned, his gaze sweeping across the gathered sins with quiet authority.

Primarch stepped forward, placing his palm over his chest and bowing his head slightly.

"Master. We have gathered as you commanded."

The figure sat upon his throne, leaning back with an air of absolute authority. He rested his elbow on the armrest, his cheek pressing lightly against his knuckles as he regarded them with a cold gaze. He raised his fingers in a lazy, dismissive gesture, silently commanding them to take their seats.

The moment they settled into their chairs, the massive doors at the far end of the hall creaked open. A devil in full dark purple armor strode in, dragging Wrexa by the collar of her armor. She stumbled along the walkway, her feet barely keeping up as she was hauled forward. Her head hung low, her body trembling, her earlier rage completely extinguished.

The devil threw her forward, and she collapsed onto her knees before the throne, her hands pressing against the cold stone, her breath ragged and uneven.

The figure’s voice echoed through the chamber, low, deep, and resonant, carrying a weight that pressed down on everyone present.

"Wrath."

She flinched violently, her fingers digging into the cold stone, her breath hitching as tears streamed down her face.

"Who gave you permission to slip out of this realm? Who told you to cause trouble before I even gave the order?"

"M... M... Master..." Wrexa sobbed, her voice cracked and broken, her head pressed low, her body shaking with terror. "I... I’m sorry... I’m so sorry... p... please forgive me... I didn’t... I didn’t mean to..."

The figure raised one hand and snapped his fingers. The sound cut through the air like a crack of thunder.

In an instant, Gioni and Erebra appeared beside Wrexa, both kneeling in a rush, their bodies trembling with fear. Gioni’s massive frame shook like a frightened child, his earlier hunger and rage completely gone. Erebra kept her head bowed, her hands clenched tightly against her knees, her breath shallow and uneven.

The figure’s gaze swept over the three of them, his voice cold and unforgiving.

"Because of the three of you, Fransesca now knows I am here. She knows I have returned. And because of your reckless actions, Garius now knows as well. You have compromised everything. Years of careful planning, of patience, of waiting for the perfect moment... all of it, thrown away by your foolishness."

( End Of Chapter )