Chapter 1066: 1065: Sixteen

Seraya’s announcement left a brief silence around the table.

Neither Zarven nor Maelis looked surprised. Tavian, however, examined Simon from his horns to his boots, a trace of suspicion entering his mismatched eyes.

Neris blinked, her bright blue eyes widening as she looked at Simon again.

Darik’s jaw tightened. He glanced at his sister, then back at Simon, the red veins along his neck brightening.

"A Greater Demon defeating a Brineback Mauler," Maelis, Seraya’s mother said. "That is quite an achievement."

She smiled at Simon.

"How did you manage it?"

"I was just lucky, Lady Varn."

Darik snorted.

Seraya immediately turned a cold glare on him.

Maelis gave a soft chuckle.

"Well, we shouldn’t keep our fortunate guest standing. Please, sit and eat with us."

"Thank you."

Simon followed Seraya to the two empty chairs beside Neris. He took the closer one, and Seraya settled on his other side.

Tavian, the first son, raised a brow but said nothing.

Across the table, Darik’s left eye twitched. His hand closed beneath the table, and he drew a slow breath through his nose.

Neris shifted slightly when Simon sat beside her. The young demoness who had freely admired his horns now seemed unsure where to look.

Maelis noticed this. Her smile lingered, but she made no comment.

"Let’s eat," Zarven, the Lord of the Daegrins, said.

The others reached for their cutlery.

Simon looked over the dishes, considering the roasted fish, glazed meat, and steaming soup.

"Start with the soup," Seraya suggested. "The mushrooms absorb the broth. You might enjoy those."

"Is that where the scent is coming from?"

"Yes."

"Then I’ll try it. Thank you."

Neris glanced at her sister. Her smile faded a little as she watched their exchange, and she set her spoon aside.

"The fish is good too."

She reached for the serving utensils.

Before Simon could answer, she lifted a portion onto his plate and added a little sauce.

"Try it with the red fruit."

Simon paused, somewhat taken aback.

Seraya stared at her sister with slightly narrowed eyes. Tavian stopped reaching for his glass, while Darik looked between Neris and the plate she had just filled.

"Thank you, Neris."

"You’re welcome."

She withdrew her hands and began attending to her own food, though the slight blush on her face could not be hidden.

Inwardly, she wanted to find a place to hide.

Simon tasted the fish. The flesh broke apart easily, and the fruit gave the rich sauce a pleasant sharpness.

"You were right. It’s good."

Neris smiled and reached for her glass.

Conversation faded as everyone ate.

Between mouthfuls, Simon quietly observed their auras.

His attention returned to Zarven first.

From what he could perceive, The First Merchant was a Half-Step Demon King.

That was what the man’s demonic energy suggested.

But Simon’s instincts disagreed.

Beneath that restrained presence was something far more dangerous. The First Merchant was a Demon King, and certainly not a weak one.

Simon couldn’t determine his exact strength, but he knew enough that he had to be cautious around the Lord of the Daegrins. If he became careless, this man could defeat him.

And that assessment didn’t include whatever artifacts Zarven carried.

Simon took another mouthful rather than letting his gaze linger.

The square black ring alone was worth being wary of despite not knowing what exactly it could do.

Then there was Maelis.

Her aura also suggested a Half-Step Demon King.

But it was another disguise.

From what he could perceive, she was most likely a Minor Demon King. She gave him less reason for concern than her husband, but he could still sense danger from her.

In total, there were two Demon Kings at the dinner table.

He swallowed his food.

They were probably using powerful artifacts to conceal their cultivation. Before his bloodline evolution and recent increase in strength, he doubted he would have noticed.

But why hide it?

His thoughts returned to his theory about the balance between the number of Demon Kings allowed in the Demon Realm and Demi-Gods on Earth.

Had the Varns discovered something similar?

Was that why they concealed their true ranks?

He had no way to know.

Beside him, Seraya lifted her glass.

She was a Supreme Demon Lord just as he had perceived earlier.

He was certain she had valuable artifacts on her too. With the right ones, she might even bridge the gap between herself and a Minor Demon King.

Tavian, the first son, was harder to judge.

He was a Superior Demon Lord, but there was something about him that Simon couldn’t quite place. Nothing seemed wrong with his aura, yet he felt he was overlooking something.

It made him curious.

Tavian caught his glance and smiled.

Simon returned it before looking away.

Neris was also a Superior Demon Lord. Her attraction was obvious, especially when she noticed him looking and immediately became interested in her plate.

He didn’t dwell on it.

She might be shy around him, but her demonic energy was steady and well controlled.

Stronger than Darik’s.

The youngest son was a Superior Demon Lord as well, yet he felt the weakest of the four siblings.

Seraya first, then Tavian, Neris, and Darik.

The Daegrins had grown far stronger than Simon remembered from his past life.

How had they…

He glanced at the food on his plate and almost smiled.

Their wealth. Their ability to find treasures.

Perhaps their progress wasn’t so difficult to understand.

He wouldn’t be surprised if they became one of the strongest races in the Demon Realm.

However, they were more concerned about building their wealth than their power.

"Tell us about yourself, Blackmoon."

Simon looked up.

Zarven had set down his cutlery.

"Where are you from? With such talent, I imagine you must have an extraordinary background."

"I’m curious too," Maelis added.

Her eyes briefly moved toward her daughters.

"How old are you too?"

Simon’s fork stopped halfway to his mouth.

His expression turned strange.

"Is something wrong?" she asked.

He remained silent for a moment before shaking his head.

"No. Nothing."

He could already imagine how this would go.

His appearance was one thing. His cultivation was another.

Together, they made the truth rather difficult to believe.

"Then how old are you?" Maelis asked again.

Even Darik was watching him now.

Simon set down his fork and took a drink of water.

"I’m sixteen. I’ll be seventeen soon."

"Impossible!"

Darik shot to his feet before anyone else could respond.

Every face turned toward him.

"Sixteen?" he demanded. "You’re a Greater Demon! We awaken our Chaos Flames at sixteen. You expect us to believe you reached this rank in less than a year?"

"Darik. Sit down."

Zarven’s voice had turned cold.

Darik pointed at Simon instead.

"No! I’m tired of this penniless bastard’s lies!"

Simon’s lips twitched.

’Penniless bastard? I get that you might be stupidly rich, but that doesn’t mean I’m broke.’

Seraya lowered her cutlery.

"Darik-"

"First the Mauler, now this! He keeps bluffing, and all of you keep indulging him!"

His voice rose.

"You welcome him into our home, feed him at our table, and treat him like someone important. We should be interrogating this fraud! We don’t know where he came from or what he wants!"

Simon placed his glass on the table without answering.

His silence only seemed to anger Darik further.

"Look at him! He can’t even explain himself. He’s probably-"

BANG!

Zarven’s palm struck the table.

The glasses jumped.

His demonic energy descended on Darik alone.

Darik staggered. His knees buckled, and he caught himself with one hand just before his face struck the carpet.

His breath caught in his throat.

Zarven remained seated.

"I told you to sit down."

"Father, I-"

"Did you not hear me?"

Darik’s fingers dug into the carpet.

Everyone else had stopped eating. Maelis’s expression had lost its warmth, and Tavian’s earlier amusement was gone.

Zarven looked down at Darik.

"You insult our guest, ignore my command, and turn a family dinner into this disgrace."

Each word was clear.

"Is this what your mother and I taught you? Is this how a son of the Varn family behaves?"

Darik tried to straighten beneath the pressure.

"He’s lying. I was only-"

"You are still making excuses."

Zarven’s eyes hardened.

"Not an apology. Not a moment spent considering your conduct. You would rather argue."

Darik’s mouth closed.

"You wear our name in this city. When you behave like this, you embarrass the entire family. Yet you cannot control your anger long enough to remember that."

The red veins along Darik’s face stood out against his ash-grey skin.

"Father…"

"Get out."

Darik lifted his head.

For a moment, disbelief overcame even his anger.

Zarven did not look away.

"Go and reflect on your behavior today. You have ruined enough of this dinner."

The pressure eased.

Darik slowly pushed himself upright. His lips parted, but whatever he had intended to say disappeared when he met his father’s cold amber eyes.

He swallowed.

"Yes, Father. I’m sorry."

He did not look at Simon as he turned.

His fists remained clenched as the guards opened the doors for him.

Only once they closed behind him did Darik stop.

The glowing red veins had spread from his neck to his temples. A muscle jumped along his jaw, and his nails pressed into his palms.

First his sister had struck him.

Now his father had forced him to the floor and thrown him out.

In front of that bastard.

Darik stared back at the closed doors.

"I won’t forget this, Blackmoon."

His voice was barely more than a whisper.

"I’ll kill you, you penniless bastard."