-x-x-x- Made by Arude_Chan on Webnovel! Please give me attention if you're reading elsewhere! (>--<) -x-x-x-
Michael walked down a hall. Once deserted, it was now flooded with maids and servants, sweeping any unfortunate dust away.
The uniforms, dark purples outlined by black, were reminiscent of ancient Japanese palace maid uniforms. Loose robes that covered all skin, with a silver hair tie for those with long hair.
The maid's gender was always female, while the guards were always male, the best of the best, chosen for their demeanor as much as their skills. Of course, the Paragons were still hard at work, serving as the Consort's personal guard and messengers.
Yet, Michael couldn't help but shake his head a little as seemingly random patterns emerged, including the ones mentioned previously.
The first thing that stood out was the faces, or rather, the masks obscuring them. None of the maids were allowed to work without them, and enchanting so many masks with runes to enable them to see well and breathe easily must have been stressful for the mages and artisans.
Those masks were pink and purple with abstract imagery. Every maid got to customize hers, allowing for interesting designs. There were traces of black and white as well, mostly around the edges and near where the eyes would be.
There were lots of little things, too. Such as the fact that the Consort ordered his meals to always come with a spoon, the fact that he refused to touch mushrooms and nigh all other fungi, eggs, and so on.
Many unofficial rules had formed, too. There were to be no sudden movements around the Consort and absolutely no raising one's voice, especially in an abrupt manner.
And Michael himself... His duties have changed, too.
"Alright, Mr. Chosen," one of the Paragons approached him with a sarcastic tone, "The Consort calls for you."
Michael was no longer a Paragon. He was given a newly created title. As a Chosen, he was essentially the Consort's right-hand man, granting him authority superior to even the Paragons.
"Fuck you guys." Michael said with a chuckle, "It's not my fault, I'm just more charismatic than you." He had grown far more relaxed since the first day, and it showed.
Still, he couldn't shake the uneasy feeling he felt. After all, five days ago, their Consort just returned to the city on Abra, sent him back to the mountains, and kindly informed the Paragons that Michael was now their superior.
The Consort, much to his shock, was then informed that he couldn't just do that. He needs to create a new position in the government, get the Gods' approval as a priest, and only then choose Michael for the role.
Under normal circumstances, it would also be modified and reviewed by the Council, but seeing as the senators were not around at the moment, the approval of either pantheon would be enough.
The sheer look of dread upon the Consort's face, hearing all of these rules, was entirely overshadowed by one simple thing.
They didn't have a government. A book of law. Or anything else. The foundation of their nation had vanished overnight. The Consort mumbled something about a game enforcing it, which made Michael feel strangely nostalgic but also revolted for reasons he didn't understand.
His colleague laughed a little, and the two made their way toward Charice.