Awakening in The World of Gods

Once the king reached his place at the head of the table, he spoke, his voice steady and authoritative. "So, gentleman I am here to introduce our esteemed guest and representative from the Demon Kingdom, Kaedros, the Ironclad Warlord."

As King Varyndor stepped aside, Kaedros entered the room, his every step reverberating off the marble floor like a thunderclap. The demon's dark, iron-plated armor gleamed ominously, catching the light in sharp, intimidating angles. His helmet bore intricate designs, and though his expression was neutral, his mere presence radiated raw power.

Poll's eyes widened slightly. So this is Kaedros, huh? He looks like he could bench-press a mountain. He felt a mix of awe and excitement as Kaedros scanned the room, his gaze landing briefly on Poll before moving on.

The king continued, "Kaedros will represent the Demon Kingdom in our negotiations."

Kaedros gave a respectful nod, his deep voice resonating through the chamber. "I am here to ensure these discussions are conducted with honor and to safeguard the interests of both our realms."

Poll leaned back slightly, taking it all in. A demon warlord in a room full of humans. This is going to be good.

The formal introductions began, each attendee rising to state their name and title. The atmosphere was stiff, every word measured and deliberate.

Then, a man further down the table stood, bowing slightly before speaking. "Your Majesty, forgive my interruption," he began, his tone polite but laced with curiosity. "I must ask—who is this boy?" He gestured toward Poll, his eyes narrowing. "He seems… important, yet I don't recall ever seeing him at such gatherings."

The room fell silent, and all eyes shifted to Poll. King Varyndor's face briefly showed a flicker of confusion. Even Eryndor, Poll's father, felt a bead of sweat run down his face, realizing the awkwardness of the situation. He had brought Poll to what was supposed to be a secret meeting, and now all attention was on his son.

Eryndor stood tall, his posture confident, though tension filled the air around him. He didn't speak, waiting to see how this moment would unfold.

Without missing a beat, Poll rose from his chair, his face calm, his voice clear and full of confidence. "I must apologize for not introducing myself earlier," he began, flashing a small, polite smile. "Ah, yes... I am Poll Nightvale."

His tone was formal and composed, and the room seemed to hang on his every word. "I must commend those responsible for preparing these documents," he continued, gesturing to the papers before him. "This meeting is of the utmost importance—not only for political and economic discussions but also for the military structure and, most crucially, the relationship between the Demon and Human kingdoms. This is a vital issue affecting both realms."

Poll's sharp, precise words left the room captivated. "As we all know, corruption is a serious threat, one that jeopardizes both our people and the demons. That is why I am here—to observe the discussions and consultations that will shape the future of our kingdom and society."

The boy paused, glancing around the room, meeting the gaze of those who had been staring at him with curiosity moments before. "If anyone has any questions for me, feel free to ask," he finished, bowing his head slightly. "Thank you. Now, please, continue the meeting."

Poll then calmly sat back down, his composure never faltering. His confident demeanor left a lasting impression on the attendees. The room remained silent for a moment, everyone trying to process the unexpected eloquence from someone so young.

Poll leaned back in his chair, satisfied that he had defused the situation with confidence and grace.

As Poll confidently sat down, the room remained in silence for a few moments. King Varyndor, still processing the sudden shift, then seemed to realize something important. 

The King's eyes widened ever so slightly as Poll's surname registered in his mind—Nightvale. Realizing what the situation was, King Varyndor composed himself and spoke, his voice firm but diplomatic. "I understand your concerns, Poll Nightvale," he said, the weight of Poll's surname echoing through the room. "But we will discuss this matter further after the meeting."

He paused, giving Poll a polite but pointed look. "For now, however," the King continued, "I believe there are more important matters that require your attention elsewhere." His eyes met Poll's with a subtle but firm command.

Poll caught on immediately. Ah, the polite royal way of saying, 'Get out.' A subtle way to avoid drawing more attention.

Poll stood up with a calm expression, as if acknowledging an unspoken command. "Of course, Your Majesty," he said with a respectful bow, not missing a beat.

As he turned to leave, Poll couldn't resist one last parting shot. "Oh, and Your Majesty," he said, pausing at the door, "I would appreciate receiving a summary of the meeting in theory papers. For my personal study, of course." His tone was light, as if the request were entirely routine.

He left the room, the heavy doors closing behind him with a soft thud.

The door closed behind him, leaving a silence that hung in the air. The other attendees exchanged glances, taken aback by the boldness of this boy—Poll Nightvale—who had the audacity to ask for such a thing from the King himself. Even Kaedros, the Ironclad Warlord, watched him with newfound curiosity. Who was this boy, this Poll Nightvale, whose presence was apparently so important that he needed to be somewhere more critical than a high-level diplomatic meeting?

Their minds buzzed with speculation, but none dared to ask further questions.

The meeting continued, but the impact he left lingered, his name now etched in the minds of every person present.

As Poll walked down the hallway, his heart began to race. What did I just do? His mind whirled in panic. I addressed the King like that… I might have just sealed my fate. The King is definitely going to order my execution. What was I thinking?

He kept walking, trying to maintain his composure, but the thoughts tumbled in his head. That was reckless! Why did I act like I belong in that meeting? What should I do now?

Poll glanced around; trying to seem calm, though inside he was spiraling. Maybe I should run away... No, that would make things worse. Maybe the King won't take it seriously? He gulped. Who am I kidding?

He exhaled, trying to settle himself. Okay, think, Poll. I need a plan. I'll talk to Father. Maybe he can fix this..

Naa I will fix my self