( The universal court )
The broadcast had already ended and the only thing that was now pending was Hades's judgement of Max's future.
Regus had lost the narrative and his reputation, but while Max's political play rattled Regus for a while, the Vampire Monarch was ultimately made of stronger stuff and managed to regain his composure once a few minutes had passed.
The worst that could happen had already happened and there was nothing more to lose for Regus.
Regardless of Hades's decision today, his and Max's enmity had been set in stone.
Max realised this too as once Regus regained his calm, his eyes no longer displayed any fear of being exposed as they did moments, but had rather reflected to the supreme gaze of a monarch, a gaze that was common in every resolute man that Max had ever met.
It was undoubtedly a bit earlier than Max had hoped for, but deep down he always knew that this day was going to come sooner or later.
He couldn't hide behind his dual identity forever, nor could he hide his intention of going after the throne.
He wanted to eventually reveal it on his own terms when he was at least tier7 in strength, but Angakok forced him to jump the gun sooner.
Although he had made the most of the situation and was now justified in his sights being set on the throne, it was also a fact that if he and Regus were to fight today, he would not last 10 moves against the man.
Regus wasn't just a run of the mill monarch, but was easily amongst top4 strongest individuals in the universe.
Except his brother, Regus could pretty much give any opponent a run for their money.
Reaching Regus's level of strength was going to take Max at least a decade and the tone of that decade to come was going to be completely dependent on Hades's judgement today.
Hades, after long deliberation had finally decided on the verdict and it was everything that Max hoped it to be.
" In the universal court case #001. True Elite Kingdom vs Vampire Monarchy over the dispute of Max Rajput
The universal court rules in favour of the prosecution and finds the Vampire Monarchy at fault.
Not only has the vampire monarchy taken part in questionable practices, they have also mistreated Max Rajput by wrongfully imprisoning him on charges he is innocent of.
Although the court recognises that it's the prerogative of the monarchy to capture and treat its own citizens with its own volition, it is also clear that Max Rajput is too well connected to be subjected to unfair treatment.
Hence, after taking into consideration the facts of the case and the future to be, I order compensation worth 100 billion gold coins to be paid to Max Rajput for his wrongful imprisonment.
With this payment the previous wrongdoings will be forgotten and the True Elite Kingdom cannot make an issue off it.
As for the future-
King Regus Aurelius is banned from purposefully hurting Max or passing biassed policies that might harm Max or his lordship directly or indirectly.
Unless provoked with a life-death scenario, King Regus cannot himself engage in combat with Max nor get him assassinated.
King Regus must also launch a campaign to clear Max's name, so that he may regain the goodwill of the people and cannot do anything to smear it.
King Regus must also not strip Max of his lordship or target his loved ones with the intent to seek revenge on Max.
While, Max Rajput is ordered to not intentionally piss off King Regus and be respectful in his conduct towards him as a monarch
All the points stated above shall be enforced by the universal queen who will issue warnings when said issues are breached.
Depending on the degrees of violation, the instigator of the matter will be penalised including but not limited to the death penalty in worst case scenarios " Hades said, as he was pretty much thorough in settling the matter as best as he could although he was not a judge by profession.
His verdict showed that he actually cared about the case and had used his head to try and minimise any loop-holes that may lead to future conflicts.
It was a big win for Max, however, the same could not be said for Regus who was more or less cucked because of the verdict.
**********
( Meanwhile Angakok )
Angakok found himself in an obscure cave, far removed from the glaring eyes of the world that had so recently humiliated him. His newly regenerated arms trembled slightly, a reminder of the unprecedented defeat he had suffered.
The cave was pitch black, but Angakok's thoughts illuminated the dark spaces like a wildfire.
"How? How did I allow this to happen?" His voice barely rose above a whisper, each word tainted with a venomous mix of frustration and self-doubt.
He replayed the scene in his mind: the joy of the hunt, the scent of blood in the air, and then the gut-wrenching moment when it all shattered into illusionary butterflies. The sheer shock still resonated, like a chime of mockery in the caverns of his mind.
The voice of Furball, that inconspicuous nine-tailed fox, echoed in his thoughts. "If you were really a big-shot, you wouldn't care." The words bit deep, not just questioning his power, but also striking at the core of his identity as the Blood Shaman Monarch. Was he so lost in his own mythology that he'd become blind to reality?
He thought back to the time before he had taken over Khnum's body, before his regression to tier 7. The old Angakok never had to assert his might; his reputation had spoken volumes. But ever since the regression, he had become increasingly aware of the gaps in his armour, the hairline fractures in his god-like façade.
Angakok took a deep, shuddering breath. His self-pity was broken by a realisation: vulnerability, not invincibility, was the root of growth.
However, just as he began introspecting and analysing his mistakes the sweet whisper of the time stone led him astray-
" This humiliation you have faced today, it will be forgotten in the river of time.
Those that humiliated you will be reduced to nothing, but you shall be alive forever… " the stone seemed to tell him as Angakok's eyes shined and his hands stopped trembling.
He picked the seed up, feeling its pulsating energy course through his veins. "With this, who could defy me? I will not just rule time; I will become time," he muttered, clutching the Seed tightly in his palm.
As the Seed's energy enveloped him, whispers filled the air, swirling in a cacophony that only he could hear. "Embrace your greatness, forget the limitations. Time bends to you," the whispers coaxed.
The thought was addictive. Why shouldn't he be narcissistic? He was the Blood Shaman Monarch; he deserved adoration and unquestioning obedience. The humiliation he suffered was an aberration, a hiccup in time that he could now easily erase.
With each moment the Seed remained in his grasp, Angakok felt his perspective shifting. Time no longer felt like a river flowing in one direction; it was a stagnant pond, waiting for him to stir the waters as he pleased.
A wicked grin spread across his face. " Max Rajput ….... you think you've bested me? You are a mere mayfly in the face of the true shaman god." His mind became absorbed by darker urges, far more sinister than mere revenge.
He could see it all so clearly now: a world where every knee bent to him, where every tongue sang praises of his power, where every second, minute, and hour was a testament to his dominion. In this world, he would be the eternal constant, the only reality that mattered.
As he stepped out of the cave, the sky seemed to darken, as if reflecting his internal transformation. He had not just accepted the Seed of Time; he had allowed it to corrupt the very core of his being.
No longer did Angakok ponder the complexities of strength or vulnerability. All that mattered was power absolute, and with him surrendering more and more control of his conscience to the Seed of Time, that power was now his to wield without question or consequence.
Unbeknownst to him, the Seed also began its insidious work, slowly corroding his understanding and appreciation of time's natural flow, making him ever more detached and narcissistic, until eventually, he became a prisoner of his own twisted desires.
And so, Angakok ventured forth, no longer the man questioning his failures, but a terrifying force hell-bent on bending the very fabric of time to his will, uncaring of the price that he—or the universe—would ultimately pay.
If 10 years of isolation was not enough he would isolate himself for 1000
If 1000 years was not enough, he would do it for 10,000 and come back as a warrior unparalleled.
He failed today, but success was a guarantee tomorrow as long as he had the seed of time.