My Soul card is a Reaper

"Alright," he said slowly, "since that's how it is, if respect can only be given to strength, and not to thought or intention… then so be it. I can't change your minds that were clouded by your centuries of age and millennia of tradition."

He glanced at the gathered leaders, cold and unreadable.

"Continue in your ways. I won't stop you from thinking what you want to think. As long as you follow my decrees, I don't care."

A few of the Pavilion Masters exchanged wary glances. Several Clan Lords adjusted their posture to straighten their backs, sensing something coming.

Azzy leaned back, resting one arm on the throne, his fingers tracing the armrest. "And now, I have orders for you. Heed my new orders."

The effect was immediate.

All eyes snapped to him. They went down to one knee, "Your Majesty."

Azzy's voice rang clear across the hall:

"First, send letters to all members of your clans who were exiled. Whether it was for rule breaking, for disputes, or other reasons. Every one of them."

He paused for a moment and said. "If they wish to return, they can. Them, and their families."

Shock rippled across the hall.

"But their return won't be automatically guaranteed," Azzy continued. "On the eighth day of the following month, they are to report to the Red Pavilion Arena. There, they will answer the summons of the Clan Monarch. There, they will be given the option of deciding their future."

He let the sentence settle among their heads.

A cold wind seemed to pass through the grand hall despite no air.

Azzy went on. "Second," he said, his tone turning sharper. "I am abolishing a hundred-thousand-year Edict, which grants a clan sole rights to specific domains: commerce to one, weaponry to another, assassinations to one, protections to one, agriculture, healing, whatever…"

He shook his head. "It ends today."

Murmurs began to rise. He silenced them with just a look. Even Avia was taken aback.

After all, the Night Clan is the sole representative of Assassinations. The Starlight Clan is the representative of hunting down monsters and bringing the meat, forging weapons, and skill cards. The Haze Clan takes care of the alchemy, potions. The Silver Clan is the police. The Ash Clan takes care of the businesses.

"No one owns anything anymore. No clan holds exclusive rights to any profession, land, or property."

He raised a hand.

"Everything in the village belongs to the Palace. That includes the shops, the farms, your clan compounds, everything now belongs to the Palace."

Affea's face remained composed, but even she blinked in surprise. She hadn't been told this ahead of time. It is obvious that the clan lords' faces darkened instantly when they heard that even their clan properties were going to be confiscated by this young brat.

Azzy let it hang for a few seconds, then dropped the next decree:

"Third… I am forming the Elder Council. There will be seven seats in total. Only they will be treated as the Death Clan Elders."

He held up his hand, counting with each word.

"One seat for each of your clans. One for the Forsaken Clan, once it is founded. One for the Garcia Family, headed by Affea. These seven individuals will be the ones who will answer my summons from henceforth. They will also act as intermediaries from the throne to your clans."

He lowered his hand and continued. "The council members will all select Head of the Committee among themselves, giving the Head the power of 2 votes.

The room was stunned into silence again.

Azzy sat forward slightly, gaze sweeping the chamber like a blade.

"These seven representatives will represent your clans. You will no longer submit your wishes directly to me. If you want something for your people: a policy, a privilege, a ruling, you will bring it to the Elder Council through your representatives."

He paused for a moment.

"If a majority votes in favor, it comes to me. If I approve it, it becomes law. And if the policy is unanimous, it will become law without needing my approval."

His voice grew colder as he continued.

"If I reject it, I will return it with written reasons for denial. You will revise it and bring it back. If I reject it three times, it is done. That policy will not be discussed again. And of course, I will retain my Monarch's privilege of implementing the policies at my will. Only in that situation, I will call for the Clan lords meeting."

Dead silence. No one even dared to breathe too loudly.

Azzy's voice hadn't lifted once.

But by now, every word felt like a hammer against a millennia-old wall.

He let the weight of the previous decree settle, then spoke again in an unchanging, resolute, firm tone just as they rise to their feet:

"It's not over yet. Fourth. On the fifteenth day of July, I want every single clan member, regardless of their position or location in the outside world, to cease their operations for one day and return. I expect them to answer the monarch's summons. No excuses or delays. Even if they were in the middle of an operation, they must answer the summons. Those who defy will be punished unless they are prepared to give a valid reason to defy the order."

Some of the clan lords exchanged quick glances.

But before anyone could speak, he raised his voice further.

"And finally…"

The room tensed again.

"I am abolishing another tradition that's long outlived its purpose."

He shifted forward on the throne, both feet firmly planted.

"For a hundred thousand years, the heir to the throne could only be from the Garcia bloodline. When there is no qualified monarch, an acting monarch or the acting clan heir is assigned to a suitable candidate from other subordinate clans. But it is also a fact that every single of you is more or a descendant of Azrael Orkney Garcia, whether it is direct bloodline or an indirect bloodline."

Gasps echoed around the hall. Even the stoic Silver clan lord looked startled for once as they could sense what Azzy was about to say next.

"No more."

Azzy turned his head toward Affea briefly, then back to the crowd.

"Accounting for her poor job as the acting clan monarch, Affea will no longer be the sole heir to the throne. She will be one of the clan heir candidates."

She blinked. "One of the clan heir candidates?" Her eyes darted to Azzy in disbelief. But beneath the surprise, there was relief. It was as if there was a long-held burden quietly lifted.

Azzy continued. "You all can now put forth one name from your clans. Man or woman. They will be granted the title of Prince or Princess."

He held up a single finger. "But, listen carefully. Only one heir may hold the title at a time. No replacements or backups like it was now. If they fall, give up, or die… that's the end of the generation. Even if they go missing, they will still hold the title of Prince/Princess unless they are no longer qualified. The right to contest for the throne dies with them."

Azzy's tone darkened, low but clear:

"And also, once you put a name forward… that person will no longer belong to your clan. They will belong to the throne. They will be trained, guided, and protected under the Palace's direct care. They will not serve your family. They will serve the Death Clan. So, please be mindful of that when you are selecting the heir. With that said, as the heir of the Garcia family, I give the title of Princess to…"

"Wait, Brother…"

For the first time since he started, he was interrupted, and it came from his sister.

"Hmm?"