Descendants of Gibbous-Chapter 26: Like father like daughter

A man dressed in a black and white uniform akin to a butler's showed up behind the trees, a large tray held up in his hands. His face was cold.

Damien couldn't help but be reminded of Kaos.

Especially his black slick hair, which was tied behind his head into a small ponytail. Even the elegant way he carried himself and walked was still the same as that deceitful doctor. The only thing that looked different from Kaos was the nose. This man's was a bit longer and crooked.

"I have come with your breakfast, princess," he announced, his chilly dark eyes scanning around the place as he stood at a distance away from them.

"You can leave it here," Eden ordered, still stroking the blonde girl's hair.

Damien watched as the butler walked in her direction, his eyes hovering over the stiff ballerina standing next to him. He couldn't understand why she looked so scared of him, considering that they both worked at the palace.

'Well, it's none of my business.'

But even as he tried to ignore it, Damien couldn't wrap his head around why everyone was faking their actions once the butler popped up.

With a flick of his fingers, the tray gracefully landed on the tree stump next to Eden, making Damien realize he was some sort of wizard. He wasn't yet knowledgeable about the tribes in Gibbous and how they worked, but he at least knew there were four major tribes: the wizards, the dragons, the vampires, and the werewolves.

The butler then leaned towards the girl resting on Eden's lap and lightly patted her shoulder.

"Wake up, Ambrose, the Princess needs to eat."

Ambrose, as the butler had called her, shuffled uncomfortably on Eden's lap before rising just like the butler had commanded, faking a yawn.

"You're here already, Father?"

"Yes," the butler replied, his eyes scanning her body coldly. "Looks like you've been dancing with the princess again today?"

"We have," Eden interjected, just when Ambrose's mother let out a low sigh of relief.

Damien heard it either way.

'So they're a couple,' he thought to himself, confused as to why the wife seemed afraid of her husband.

Aside from his cold persona, Damien couldn't see anything scary about him at all. Well, except for the aura he was emitting. He scrunched his face when another wave of the immersing air hit him, making him feel like vomiting.

"And who might that young man be?" The butler asked, glancing at Damien and making his way towards the boy.

"Stop right there!" The guard finally spoke. He was the only one who hadn't been shaken by the butler as he continued training alone after his companion rushed to Eden's lap.

"He is the princess's guest, and you will treat him accordingly."

"Oh? My apologies for being rude, young master," the butler replied, sounding unapologetic nonetheless, even as he bowed his head at Damien.

"Your apologies will be noted once you stop releasing that aura of yours. You're making him uncomfortable," the guard added.

"Ah, right away, sir. I only do it to notify you of my presence."

In an instant, the suffocating air disappeared, and Damien was able to stand upright once again.

However, the woman standing next to him was still stiff.

"May I be graced with knowing young master's name?" Her husband asked, holding his chest as if to pay his respects.

"Damien Amaris," the boy replied, to which the butler widened his eyes in disbelief.

Even his wife turned to face him.

"You're the Numen's son?" The wife asked.

"Former. He's dead, dear," her husband corrected coldly.

Damien glanced at him, wondering why the royal family even had such a servant within their quarters.

"Yes, I'm the former Numen's son."

"Hmm, so the rumors about you losing your aura and leaving for the human world eleven years ago were fake then?"

"No. They were real. I only got my aura back recently. That's why I'm back," Damien responded, holding his own somehow.

"Ah, then you must be a Vampire or Wizard, considering your parents had an inter-tribe marriage. Rank B or above since your father was a powerful man?"

The composure Damien had suddenly vanished, and he avoided the butler's gaze, feeling rather stupid and weak. He was liking the man less and less every time he opened his mouth to speak.

"I—I don't have a rank or tribe trait yet."

"What do you mean—ah," the butler posed, a rather sickening smirk on his lips. "No wonder I couldn't sense your aura...you're recessive."

"Arthur!" The ballerina faced him, a rebuking tone in her voice.

"Why, excuse my foul mouth, your Highness. I didn't mean to insult you too," the butler turned to face Eden.

Damien could almost hear the hypocrisy behind his apology. The man wasn't even trying to hide it.

"That's okay. I don't expect you, of all people, to have a delicate mouth. After all, you weren't quite cultured the first time we met either," Eden clapped back, tilting her head at him as if to challenge the man.

Damien watched as the butler's face turned slightly pale, his eyes seemingly glaring at the princess. But he withdrew himself, bowing yet again in her direction.

"Your kindness is greatly appreciated, princess," he said, his tone still sounding cold and unmoved.

Then he turned his attention to his daughter, his gaze becoming icier by the second.

"I expect you to be home in an hour, Ambrose. Bring your mother along with you whilst you're at it, will you?" He ordered, not giving her a chance to reply as he turned around in his wife's direction, only for his eyes to land specifically on Damien.

The teen didn't back away at his rather unsettling glare this time. Just stood his ground, glaring back as if he were capable of fighting him and winning.

"Well, I'll be making my way back to the palace. I hope to see you around, young master."

Paying his respects one last time, he turned on his heel and disappeared into the forest.

Immediately after he was gone, everyone relaxed once again, and the ballerina stopped looking stiff. Her daughter rushed towards her mother, but not before flicking her middle finger in the direction her father took.

"I thought you said you were on the lookout for him today, Mom."

"I was, but then I met him and wanted to show him what the flow state can do," the woman replied, pointing at Damien.

Ambrose glared at him.

If eyes could burn, then Damien was sure he'd be ash by now. She looked angry, the same way she had when she glared at the forest and cursed it with her finger.

"Have you been stalking me?" She accused.

"How the fuck would I be stalking you when I just woke up from the hospital today?" Damien shot back at her, taken aback by her rudeness.

"Sneaking up on people whilst they train privately is stalking, you pervert. And how dare you let a woman older than you carry you on your back as if you can't walk by yourself?"

Damien closed his eyes and rubbed his nose in frustration.

Today had been a rather shitty day of meeting people. First, it was the old man and his riddles, next it was the council members, then the foxy princess and her almost similar father, and now it was a broken family that seemed not to know how to communicate and liked taking their frustrations on others.

'Ugh. I miss humans already,' the boy thought to himself as he opened his eyes to face the blonde.

"You know what? Fuck you and your shitty Dad. I didn't come here to play back and forth insult games with you," Damien clapped back, tugging her mother's hand shamelessly as Ambrose backed away in surprise.

"I'm sorry if I'm being annoying, but can you please take me back to the road? I need to be back at the palace in thirty minutes or I'll lose the bet I had with the King, and I'm afraid I'll be lost in the woods if I wander about carelessly."

The mother glanced at her daughter apologetically as she slipped her hand away from her.

"I'll be back soon, okay?" She cooed, but her daughter grabbed her hand once again.

"You're choosing him over me?" Ambrose asked her mother, pointing at Damien furiously.

"No, Amber. I'm just returning him to where I took him."

"Whilst he travels on your back like he's your son?"

"Amber!"

"Mother! I'm your daughter. I don't care if he's the former Numen's or some other big shot's idiotic son who thinks he can do whatever he wants with his half-assed aura. But he's not allowed to ride piggyback on your back in my presence, ever! So will you please give him the directions to wherever you took him so we can go back home and deal with that," she pointed in the direction her father went again.

A sharp laugh came from Eden's direction as she rose from the ground she was sitting.

"Oh, please let us all be accepted at Gibforge. I can't wait to see what kind of fun we can brew with this duo living with me," she added, laughing some more before she gestured for the ballerina she left sitting on a tree stump to come at her.

"Please take him back to the road. I'm sure my father is looking for him already if it's true that they made a bet."

"Yes, Princess."

And just like that, Damien accepted the help of yet another stranger for the day, glaring at Ambrose, whose expression was just as mutual.

'Like father, like daughter,' he thought to himself, as the ballerina who was carrying him charged into the trees with him once again.

*****

By the time they arrived back on track, Damien's guide was back from wherever he had gone, and so was the Vampire lord. Neither of them looked like they were tired from the sprint, nor were they breathing heavily as he had in just five kilometers.

"Ah. There he is!" Lord Clement exclaimed. "We thought you'd been lost."

Damien glanced at the guard who had been left behind when he left for the woods not too long ago and was surprised to see the man smiling. They were all smiling. Even Clement.

When the ballerina carrying him landed in the middle of the road and he dropped off her back, she bowed at the King, then disappeared into the woods again.

"So, you figured Eden's secret?"

'Secret?'

Damien scrunched his brows.

"Or not," the king added disappointedly as he took out an oblong from his pockets.

"12:45. You have fifteen minutes left before the moon you were trying to reach disappears, Damien. Are you sure you want to be a loser?"

Damien stared down the road that led back to the palace. He had wasted fifteen minutes trying to learn the flow state as the ballerina had called it, only to come back after learning nothing and making his first enemy in Gibbous.

A girl at that, too.

"Seems you've decided to land on the stars after all. Well, it's good to know your limits too, or you'll exert yourself for nothing."

"Can you teach me how to do the flow state in five minutes?" Damien cut him off, glancing at the track again.

The King blinked at him. "How did you—?"

"I asked the Ballerina who was standing here like one of the guides how all of you can sprint faster than the normal eye can see, and she told me about the flow state."

"And now you want to learn it in five minutes so you can sprint the last five Kilometers in ten minutes?" Lord Clement laughed heartily. "Oh, what to do with you? The state can only be achieved once you have a D rank aura value at least, and that's forty more points from where you are now."

A jolt of disappointment shot through Damien's body like an arrow. He at least thought he'd be able to tap into some of that power and race the King down the road in the last ten minutes left in his time limit. Now, all that was just an unreachable daydream.

A loser's fantasy.

"Tell you what?" Clement cut his thoughts, and Damien turned his head to face him.

"I'll hold on to that promise and give you a chance to redeem yourself by this week's end before enrollment at Gibforge begins. In the meantime, I'll hand over the training plan to your sister, and ask her to teach you how to tap into the flow state. How does that sound?"

Damien's eyes glinted with hope, and for the first time since he woke up in this strange place this morning, he smiled happily, determination pulsating in his blood.

"I promise you won't leave me behind the next time we race."

"Ha! Aren't you one overconfident son of a Numen," the King mocked, bending himself in the palace's direction as he readied himself to sprint.

"Until then, eat my dust, Amaris."