In a bedchamber made with white marble floors and exquisite black stone walls, sensual overlapping voices filled the air. Behind the thin veil of the bed canopy, a man was smiling with his flush reddish face surrounded by a group of gorgeous ladies.

He was having the time of his life, free from the shackle of his old life. It was a bright day, and the sun shined through the open door through the balcony, but it didn’t matter for the people lost in desire within their own world confined in a single king-size bed.

Knock. Knock.

Yet a continuous stream of knocking on the door disturbed the man’s moment of pleasure.

“Shut up!” he said. The glare at the door only lasted for a few seconds before he drowned once more within the pit of pleasure.

A while later, the knock came back, stronger than before. The man was in action like a hard-working piston, yet his concentration broke upon the disturbing knocks.

“Fok!” he said. The man pushed the woman in front of her to the side as he came out from the bed, bathing in the glory of not wearing anything.

The door opened from the angry might of the unsatisfied man. The disturber of pleasure who knocked on his door stood there, staring at the carrot top of the man. It wasn’t the disturber’s fault since red-hair was non-existent in this part of the kingdom.

The fiery glare from the carrot top man snapped the disturber from staring.

“Pardon for my intrusion, my king,” said the disturber as he immediately bent on one knee with his head lowered down. He knew he made a great mistake staring at the royal hair, he forgot he was here for an important reason.

“Spit it out steward, I’ve things to fuck,” said the red-hair king.

The Royal Steward was appalled hearing such vulgarity from a king. He briefly bit his lips with his head down as he took his time before delivering the news.

“Sire, I’ve brought you news from the Sentry Tower,” said the Royal Steward.

“Hurry up,” said the red-hair king as his eyes kept stealing glances at his bed.

“One of the golem trolls lost its signal, there’s a high chance it was destroyed sire,” said the Royal Steward.

“Destroy?” a scowl emerged as the red-hair king took pride in his creation. “Which fucker did it? It must be one of those martial art fools trying to pick a fight.”

The red-hair king lost his desire to return to bed as the thought of revenge circling inside his head. It had been a while since he had beat up someone with the full force of his might.

“It’s not them sire,” said the Royal Steward. Silence prevailed for a while.

“Did I hired you to do cliffhangers?”

“No, sire,” the Royal Steward confused by the abrupt question.

“Then fucking tell me then!” said the red-hair king.

The Royal Steward flinched a bit. He definitely didn’t like his current job. It was a nightmare since he took the place of the last steward. Even after a few months, he still couldn’t adapt to the behavior of the one, who he served.

“Apologies, sire, due to the decision of the High Kings Council, you had sent golems to the south-western part of the kingdom,” said the Royal Steward.

“High Kings Council?” the red-hair king didn’t remember much since it happened almost two weeks ago. He too wasn’t that concerned about those orders from the council, seeing it was too tedious.

“Remind me why I sent them,” said the red-hair king.

“A breacher sire, the High Kings Council had determined that there were signs of breacher coming into our territory,” said the Royal Steward.

“Oh,” he lost his interest after hearing what it was about.

“Those council members are fucking paranoid,” the red-hair king clicked his tongue, disgusted by the thought of those self-important narcissists.

“Send a few search-type golems at the last known coordinates of the troll golem,” the red-hair king shooed the steward with his hand as he already turned back towards the bed. “Now go, I’m busy.”

“But sire!” the Royal Steward stopped him.

“What do you want steward? You want to fucking die is it?” the red-hair king turned and glared at the steward who was shaking in his boots.

“Again I apologize sire, the news about the golem came along with a guest, who is currently waiting for you,” said the Royal Steward.

“Guest?” the red-hair king wasn’t interested.

“Yes, he’s an envoy from the High Kings Council,” said the Royal Steward.

The red-hair king narrowed his eyes. His day kept getting sourer by the minute. His simple pleasure of life disturbed by the annoyance from the outside of his dominion.

The door to the bedchamber closed, and once it opened back, the red-hair king was fully dressed from top to bottom, befitting of a king that governed the vast land. He wore a navy color jacket that looked oddly similar to a vintage navy military jacket from earth. The golden lines and the golden buttons accentuated the regal luxury of the king. To top the overall look, a velvet onyx mantle with the outline weaved with golden thread hung on his shoulders.

“Your crown sire?” asked the Royal Steward.

“No need. I hate wearing it,” said the red-hair king with a stoic face. “Bring me to the envoy.”

The king and the steward reached the royal hall, and as the red-hair king was about to sit on his throne, a voice made him stopped.

“I’ve been waiting far too long, GingerStar,” said a man sitting on a chair.

“Oh. They sent you,” GingerStar chuckled as he sat on his throne.

“Forgive me, sire, the envoy was supposed to wait in the guest room, I…” the Royal Steward worried, seeing the envoy here in the royal hall. A raised of GingerStar’s hand stopped the steward from talking.

“It’s fine. This bastard is a mannerless one,” said GingerStar.

“Says the one with a vulgar mouth,” said the envoy. He stood up and walked over to the throne, with his hands behind his back. His slick black hair combed backward, reaching shoulder-length with a pencil mustache barely visible from afar. He wore a mahogany red coat with a sheathed sword hanging around his waist, swaying with each step he took.

“I love what you did with the place, black and white with a streak of gold. A lot had changed since I’ve last been here,” said the envoy with a smirk.

“Why are you here Henry? You know I hate dogs of the council more than the idiot brawlers,” said GingerStar.

“You still haven’t settled your beef with them? Hmph,” Henry chuckled. “I still can’t understand why you didn’t wipe them all out.”

“It’s a boring world. I still need my own entertainment,” said GingerStar.

“Oh, I forgot. A geek without his tools, so how is it? Did your research work?”

GingerStar glared from his throne.

“Probably didn’t work is it,” said Henry with his eyebrows raised.

“Enough. Why are you here?” GingerStar disliked this Henry, and it would better to let him leave as fast as possible.

“The council detected your golem deactivation,” said Henry.

GingerStar frowned as he too just knew about this matter. To hear even the council knew about this before him, let him realized a few things.

“They want result Ginger, and they want it fast,” said Henry as he stopped moving and stared right at the eyes of GingerStar.

GingerStar glared back at this loose mouth dog.

“It’s King GingerStar. Get your words right, you dog. You’re in the dominion of a king and mind your manners if you still want to keep that head of yours intact,” said GingerStar.

“Is that a threat?” Henry asked.

Both men glared at one another with piercing eyes. Neither was backing down, and both of them were prepared for the first strike.

“Eek,” the Royal Steward fell back on his rear-end as his legs felt weak over the unseen clashing of heavy auras between these two men.

“Oh, where are my manners,” Henry said. He smiled with his back straight. In the eyes of others, that smile was definitely not from the heart.

The heavy aura receded, giving much room for the Royal Steward to breathe.

“I’ve delivered the message, and now I shall take my leave,” said Henry.

Henry turned and walked away from the throne. He didn't bow, nor did he show any gesture of respect to the king. After a few steps, he stopped. Slightly turning his head to the back, he said.

“I forgot. The council gives you a month. Better start looking than just fucking around.”

The huge door of the royal hall closed as the guest had left. Sitting on the throne, GingerStar had a stoic look, yet his right fist was clenched tight. He wanted to kill that man with every fiber in his body, yet he couldn’t. To received such blatant disrespect tore his pride. Yet he knew, if he made a move, it would cause his dearly
life.

The Royal Steward stood up once more, waiting beside the king with silence. The nervous man waited for the order of the king as he could hear the loud heaving breath of GingerStar, who was cooling down his wrath.

“Steward,” said GingerStar.

“Yes, my king.”

“Do as what I told from before,” he rose from his seat.

“But the time limit?”

“Ignore it. I’ll do what I fucking want,” said GingerStar as he continued fucking around.