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Chapter 165: You? Not Even Fit to Shine My Shoes!
🕑 Added 2025-06-13 14:37:57 +0000 UTC
“Niklaus? Why is he here?”
“This is going to be troublesome.”
At the Mikaelson family’s table, the atmosphere tightened.
Elijah and Rebekah exchanged glances, their usual composure faltering ever so slightly. Elijah’s brows furrowed, lips thinning with frustration, while Rebekah’s fingers twitched against her glass, a clear sign of agitation for those who knew her well.
They had gone to great lengths to keep Niklaus away from this gathering—had even concocted a plausible excuse about political matters in New Orleans to keep him preoccupied.
And yet… here he was.
Uninvited. Unrestrained. Unpredictable.
They could already feel the storm building in his wake. His mere presence turned the air electric, as though the hall itself had tensed in anticipation of chaos.
Things were about to get messy.
---
“Well.”
Seated comfortably with one leg crossed over the other, Aro reclined in his chair, the edges of his robe falling like silk over ancient stone. A faint smirk played at the corners of his lips.
“At least it won’t be boring anymore.”
His voice, smooth as aged wine, carried just enough amusement to make others uneasy.
---
“Niklaus, what are you doing here?”
Marcus’s voice was tight, low with suppressed fury as he stepped forward. His eyes, usually cold and composed, were now sharp with warning.
“Now that’s an interesting question.”
Niklaus spread his arms wide in mock innocence, his smirk widening.
“This is a gathering of immortals, isn’t it? So many of our kind, so many Supremes. As a Supreme myself, how could I possibly miss it? Sure, I wasn’t invited—what a shame, really—but you wouldn’t kick me out just because I lack an invitation like my dear brother Elijah, would you?”
He gave Elijah a pointed look, his tone mocking, even as he oozed casual arrogance.
It was a move as strategic as it was provocative.
Niklaus’s hybrid status made him a controversial figure among the pureblooded vampire aristocracy, but his power—and his family name—commanded respect. No one dared openly reject him. Not even Marcus.
Refusing Niklaus wasn’t just a slight against one man—it was an insult to the entire Mikaelson family.
And everyone here knew just how dangerous that could be.
Elijah and Niklaus might argue, scheme, and even come to blows behind closed doors, but when it came to defending their bloodline?
They were united.
Always.
---
“Niklaus, my apologies. Elijah mentioned you were occupied, so I didn’t wish to disturb you.”
Marcus’s voice softened slightly, dipping into the polished cadence of diplomacy.
“Now that you’re here, please—take a seat.”
“Much obliged.”
Niklaus’s grin curled wider.
---
“Niklaus, come here.”
Elijah raised his hand, beckoning his brother urgently. His voice, though calm, carried a silent plea beneath the surface.
Niklaus didn’t move.
“Not so fast.”
He waved Elijah off with a casual flick of the wrist.
“I voiced my objection earlier, but I haven’t had the chance to explain it.”
A hush began to fall over the room again, like the deep breath before a scream.
---
“Niklaus, today is a significant day for our clan. I shouldn’t need to remind you of that.”
Marcus’s words were clipped and edged with steel.
“Exactly!” Niklaus said brightly, as if agreeing. “Today belongs to the Alex Clan, right? As guests, we shouldn’t overshadow them. Which is why…”
His expression darkened, smile sharpening into something that no longer resembled amusement.
“…I can’t just sit here and stay silent.”
---
“The Alex Clan?”
He repeated the name with disdain, as though the very syllables tasted sour.
“There’s the real issue. I don’t know if your clan has lost its mind or simply grown senile, but appointing a mortal as your leader? That’s your internal matter. Fine. But what I take issue with…”
He swept his gaze slowly across the hall, daring any to challenge him.
“…is the idea that this mortal deserves the title of Supreme alongside us. Am I the only one who finds that insulting? Since when has ‘Supreme’ become so cheap? So... common?”
He paused, letting the words hang in the air like venom.
“Are we really going to let some nobody sit at our table?”
---
“Niklaus, enough!”
The sharp crack of Elijah’s palms slamming against the table echoed through the hall. He rose to his feet, his gaze burning with uncharacteristic fury.
---
“Elijah.”
Aro’s voice floated out, soft and syrupy, a thread of silk hiding a coil of barbed wire.
“Niklaus is merely expressing his concerns. Why such a strong reaction? Even the Alex Clan hasn’t objected yet.”
His words, coated in mock civility, twisted the knife deeper.
Aro wasn’t defending Niklaus out of principle.
He was stirring the pot—playing his part in this little spectacle.
Payback, elegantly delivered.
---
“See, Elijah?” Niklaus laughed. “I’m just asking what everyone’s thinking. Your overreaction speaks volumes.”
The tension between the brothers was palpable, but Elijah didn’t respond.
His jaw clenched. His fists curled at his sides. But he remained silent.
Aro had thrown down the gauntlet.
---
Niklaus turned back to Alex.
“And Mr. Alex—forgive me, but I can’t call you ‘Supreme.’ You simply don’t qualify.”
He stepped forward, each pace deliberate, eyes locked onto Alex’s with mocking intensity.
“Do you really think you belong among us?”
---
The entire hall turned to Alex.
Dozens of ancient eyes.
Hundreds of immortal gazes.
Some amused. Some intrigued. Some downright scornful.
A few even wore pity.
This was a public humiliation—intentional, surgical, and backed by two of the most powerful Supremes in the world.
Aro and Niklaus.
Together.
The message was clear:
The Alex Clan would pay for their arrogance.
---
“Niklaus, are you declaring war?”
Marcus stepped forward, fury in every line of his body. His voice was low but lethal, his intent clear.
A collective breath was drawn.
“Marcus, watch your tone. Are you challenging me?”
Niklaus’s voice dropped. Cold. Flat.
The room chilled.
---
“Marcus, relax.”
Amidst the charged silence, Alex’s calm voice sliced through like a blade of ice.
Every head turned.
He rose slowly, unfazed, and placed a hand gently on Marcus’s shoulder.
“Actually, Niklaus is right. I don’t deserve to stand as his equal.”
Gasps rippled through the crowd.
Even Marcus looked stunned, his eyes wide.
“Supreme, you—”
Was he… surrendering?
Backing down?
Across the hall, lips curled into smirks. Suppressed chuckles followed.
So this was the mighty mortal?
Pathetic.
---
But Alex wasn’t finished.
He tilted his head slightly, his voice suddenly laced with razor-sharp sarcasm.
“After all…”
He looked Niklaus in the eye.
“Niklaus is beneath me. Not even fit to shine my shoes. How could we possibly be equals?”
---
Silence.
Then—
Boom.
The hall erupted—not in sound, but in tension.
It crashed like a wave.
And suddenly, no one was laughing.
Not anymore.
