Chapter: 193
*
아이슬리프 pressed his forehead with a grimace and scanned the assembly. None of the nobles present dared to speak hastily.
A heavy silence hung in the air. Had any of them been so dignified since the establishment of the Privy Council?
Having lost their mana, and with the Milestone frozen, winter arrived abruptly. Though it lasted only a few days, that terrible disaster brought about immense repercussions.
All of them had gathered, leaving behind countless disturbances that could happen on their own islands.
“Since you are all so dedicated to this country, what is there to fear?”
아이슬리프 spoke as if joking.
Was their gathering to recognize the abnormal situation of the Eternal Palace and Idrenhill for the sake of saving Idrenhill? No. Certainly not.
If that were the reason they had come here, they should have bombarded the Eternal Palace with the warships they had originally brought. The moment the Seven Dragon Lords descended, hadn’t everyone here pulled their warships out of the range of that presence?
“Everyone is gathered except for the Swordsmanship Faction.”
One councilor murmured expressionlessly.
Looking at the empty seat, 아이슬리프 smiled bitterly. Only those madmen willingly rushed towards death.
All the nobles present had withdrawn their forces. Not because they were afraid of confronting the Seven Dragon Lords, but because sustaining losses in battle against such a being would undoubtedly result in losing influence among the Elf nobility afterward.
Those who could not think in such terms would never have made it here in the first place.
To the Privy Council, the pinnacle of Elf society. And here in Idrenhill.
“Let’s not chatter on. His Majesty has passed away; we need to reorganize the royal family and reactivate the Privy Council, don’t you think?”
“Indeed, you all are busy bodies.”
“It’s wrong to leave Idrenhill as it is. What do you say to relocating? How can we know what that accursed being has left behind on this land?”
“The Eternal Palace is the essence of our people. Are you saying we should abandon the forest of our ancestors?”
“Of course. Will it even be left?”
At those words, the Privy Council became agitated again. Having regained their mana, there was nothing to be afraid of; their forces were nearly perfectly intact, and the uproar from the factions would be suppressed.
Now they began to turn their eyes toward how much damage other nobles had sustained and whether they could seize the opportunity to engulf it.
This was the point at which the authority of the queen and the Astronomy Faction that supported her had entirely disappeared. The Privy Council now resembled a wolf’s den. Who would mediate between them? With what authority?
“Is it true that everyone who entered Idrenhill has died?”
“Except for some humans and a few low-ranking noble houses, what was there in that city but the Astronomy Faction? Only the Eternal Palace. Even if they are alive, what state are they in now?”
As soon as the Seven Dragon Lords descended, the Elf warships had been blockading Idrenhill from beyond the sea. And even the keenest-eyed Elf sailor saw no light.
The city had lost its function; that place would be akin to the Demon Realm, a land of demonic influence.
It had been confirmed that the Swordsmanship Faction had begun combat, but the overwhelming spells and violence wielded by the colossal trees swept through the city, so who could possibly remain alive?
Besides, there was not even mana at that point. Without mana, basic preemptive spell detection, fire sight detection, and superhuman physical maneuvers became impossible.
The great superhumans of the Swordsmanship Faction, at that moment, rushed like mere soldiers. Like moths to a flame. And like moths typically do, they too would have burned themselves in the fire.
“The Destruction Faction proposes leveling Idrenhill.”
“That’s somewhat extreme.”
“So you oppose it?”
The Privy Council did not stir. Because they all wished for it.
If there happened to be survivors among the Swordsmanship Faction and Astronomy Faction, they could erase them completely, and if the queen survived, she could be dealt with as well.
They must not allow the old powers to return now and attempt to assert their past authority again. The next king must emerge from the puppets of the Privy Council, and the next capital must be ruled by their own faction.
While recalling the bountiful island that the Swordsmanship Faction possessed, a few councilors slowly licked their lips.
“I agree to that, but I advise a broader perspective.”
“…Sir Heodrik. Speak.”
“Is there any need to dedicate ourselves to this narrow land?”
The head of the Mentalism Faction rose eerily with a laugh.
“Kalion was once a land that was ‘blessed.’ Abundant resources, rich mana, a mild climate… But is it still so? Even if winter has passed, Kalion will wither and rot like the lands of other ethnic groups according to the seasons.”
“What are you trying to say?”
“Humans have good culture, don’t they?”
As Heodrik waved his hand, a massive map was projected into the air. The map made of mana depicted the waters of Kalion, the Demon Realm, and the continent of the United Kingdom.
Heodrik poked the Demon Realm as he spoke.
“Some human nations are colonizing here. Establishing military rule and exploiting the demons…”
“And so?”
“As the world pushes us out of Kalion, do we not have a reason to do the same?”
Heodrik lightly brushed across the entire map. Several ships that had sailed from Kalion began to turn various areas green.
“All three seas and one sky belong to us, don’t they? Why not avoid fighting over this cramped land and share it amicably?”
This world.
Heodrik’s words prompted a brief silence among the assembly.
If not for the overwhelming conditions created by the Milestone, in fact, Kalion would not be much different from the other islands in the world. It would merely have a clearly defined limit due to its cramped territory.
However, if they could effectively control the whole world, attacking royal fortresses with just a few air battleships would mean that only a handful of countries could even respond.
Drovian, Kalion, Tylesse. All other small nations except for those three kingdoms have no way to contend even with one air battleship.
So it wouldn’t be bad. There’s no reason to shed blood among the same ethnic group for power on this cramped land.
“That…”
“If all the councilors accept this proposal, my faction will take charge of the Krasilov region.”
“Krasilov? The barbarian land obsessed with gunpowder would be the most troublesome.”
“Since it was my suggestion, I’ll face the most troublesome opponent. Will you join me?”
At that moment, the door burst open loudly as if broken. Despite the rudeness, the Elves did not turn their gaze or show any surprise. They merely frowned elegantly, revealing their displeasure.
The temporary assembly room belonged to 아이슬리프’s flagship, so he turned his head towards the intruding guest and spoke lowly.
“We are in session. Leave.”
“Ah, Your Royal Highness. My apologies, but, um, just a moment—.”
The one who had rushed in was his most trusted deckhand. With a slight nod, the deckhand quickly rushed to his side and whispered cautiously in his ear.
“The flagship of the Swordsmanship Faction is making contact…!!”
“Is it alive?”
아이슬리프 nodded lightly. He then asked quietly.
“Where is the flag?”
“Only the Swordsmanship Faction’s flag.”
“Then it’ll do.”
If the royal seal was not present, it would mean that the queen must have indeed perished.
아이슬리프 waved his hand to dismiss the deckhand and raised his gaze to the assembly.
“I have heard that Sir Cohenulf of the Swordsmanship Faction has arrived. We will take a short break.”
*
The flagship of Edelplatt, “Pinnacle of the Elves,” docked with a black flag fluttering. Unlike other Elf noble houses, she did not deploy a flying ship, choosing instead to walk up the gangway herself.
The eyes of the gunners and crew on deck were fixed on her.
The crew of that warship had lived through hell. They were those who returned from Idrenhill, the Seven Dragon Lords, or beings comparable to them.
While the nobles largely ignored this fact, the lower-ranking Elves swallowed hard at the sight of the tattered warship.
*
The coat billowed gently in the wind, and the dark hair swayed. An Elf, with a sword hilt cheerfully slung at the waist and no sign at all of the aftermath of battle, strode across the gangway.
“Edelplatt Cohenulf. Congratulations on your victory.”
One sailor greeted her in a trembling voice. This legendary Elf had faced the Seven Dragon Lords alone in the past and had now returned a hero after personally slaying one.
Yet under her coat, where her left arm was supposed to be, there was only emptiness.
She had left one eye and one arm with the Seven Dragon Lords. Bloodstains still fresh on the bandages wrapped around the wounds.
Soon behind her, crew members began to board, disciples of the Swordsmanship Faction. They were injured soldiers, often limping, the strong scent of blood wafting around them, having lost one limb or another.
However, none of them bowed their heads. They held their chests high in proud return.
Therefore, the Elves present willingly paid them respect. They had defended the capital, protecting their people, and in the end, had slain the Seven Dragon Lords.
Since historical times, only the Hero Party had directly slain the Seven Dragon Lords with such a small force.
Their feat equaled that. That’s how they evaluated it.
“Thank you. Where are our councilors?”
“I will guide you to the assembly room, Lady Cohenulf.”
“Thank you.”
*
Edel walked across the large conference room directly to an empty seat.
“Here you all are, our kind and zealous gentlemen gathered.”
She threw her coat over a chair, sat down, leaned back in her chair, and laid her sword beside her.
No one dared to speak until she propped her legs up on the table.
“Why? Are you all dumbfounded?”
“Cohenulf. Behave yourself.”
“The men who should’ve shown manners are dead in that hellhole! 아이슬리프.”
At her words, while the chairperson kept quiet, someone stood up suddenly. Silmon, the lord of the Destruction Faction, frowned.
“Are you saying it’s our fault, Cohenulf? Wasn’t it you who rushed out just as we were about to begin a meeting to start a battle?”
“Silmon.”
“You killed the Seven Dragon Lords? Yes, that’s a significant achievement. But was it truly with noble intent? You, Edelplatt Cohenulf, don’t pretend your motives are pure. You don’t think you’re any different from those you accuse of hypocrisy, do you? You wanted to save the queen and bolster your own standing through that achievement.”
“Silmon.”
Edelplatt merely gazed at him without responding.
“Speak. Edel. Don’t just call my name.”
“You are within my reach.”
*
As Edel raised the hilt of her sword with her thumb, the atmosphere became frigid. In striking distance, Edel was the strongest. Everyone present knew this, and she was returning from proving it in Idrenhill.
The councilors quietly began to prepare their magic. That madwoman could explode at any moment.
“Calm down, Lady Cohenulf.”
“Heodrik.”
“Yes, we willingly pay our respects to your struggles. We also mourn the losses suffered by the many personnel of the Swordsmanship Faction.”
Heodrik slowly placed his hands on the table and rose.
“However, this assembly is critical to determining the future of our people, is it not? How long has it been since our Privy Council met face to face? Should such an assembly culminate in tragedy?”
“Speak your mind.”
“We were discussing whether Kalion should remain a kingdom.”
“Dismantling the monarchy?”
“No. Each faction now seeks independence. They wish to escape Kalion without a Milestone and move into that distant world.”
*
What a clever way to wrap colonialism in fine words.
Edel grinned derisively as soon as she grasped his meaning. These miserable souls hadn’t changed at all.
What to do? If she were to kill them all now, could she? Alone might be a risk, but it might be possible with ‘him’ beside her.
Calculating her options, she began to tap the hilt of her sword lightly with her thumb before turning her gaze.
“What do you think, Yone?”
She should also hear the opinion of Ivan, who was there in presence. If he still had the strength to continue fighting, well, it could be nice to have a little go.
“Yone?”
Ivan was not responding, his eyes closed deeply.
He stood in silence, not even making a sound, as if he were a statue.
Is he very tired? Well, moving at all is a miracle given his condition. That man, incredulously, just fought the Seven Dragon Lords alone.
“Yone. Are you okay? If you’re too tired, you can step out and rest.”
“Quiet.”
“…What?”
Ivan’s voice sounded strange. It was trembling, and he almost seemed to be holding his breath.
Edel tilted her head and looked at Ivan.
*
‘Familiar.’
A trained operative would never ignore a sense of déjà vu. Implicit in a sense of familiarity might mean that someone he had encountered disguised themselves and approached him.
Thus, as soon as Ivan entered the assembly room, he cast an attentive glance toward Edel and stood behind her with his eyes closed.
When facing someone, Ivan often utilizes diverse senses beyond mere visual information.
The scent of a person—the hormones secreted when feeling tension and fear mixed with sweat, releasing a particular pattern during evaporation.
Hearing—the regular heartbeat. Recognizing the changes in heart rates according to emotional fluctuations such as fear, affection, or excitement.
Voice—the regularity flowing through breaths and vocal cords. The depth of the breath and the vibrations of the vocal cords differ from person to person.
Yes, a person cannot fundamentally change those three. It may vary slightly depending on lifestyle habits, yet the essence remains constant.
It’s just like fingerprints. Clearer than fingerprints. A trained operative, when approaching in a closed space, can distinguish someone who is disguised.
It’s a difficulty level akin to visually reading and distinguishing fingerprints.
It demands a high concentration, memory, and judgment—though that implies it’s only as challenging as distinguishing fingerprints visually.
A superhuman can possess sensory organs as precise as modern machines, depending on the training method.
Ivan was the type of agent who had embodied such training to its extreme. Therefore,
“I remember.”
Holding his breath, suppressing even his heartbeat as much as possible, he focused all his nerves on his hearing and sense of smell.
The exhausted body was, thus, merely pulsating weakly. And now that his survival instincts were sharply awakened, the life signs of others around him became even more pronounced.
Ivan took one last sweeping glance at everyone present.
The eleven councilors and the attendants standing behind them, meticulously examining every heartbeat, scent, and breath.
“Yone. Are you okay?”
*
With a click, Edel’s words slipped into his ear as he mechanically reached out.
Overheated nerves, torn muscle fibers. Despite the trembling fingertips from lack of energy, his actions were eerily mechanical.
Ivan’s hand grasped a firearm from within his clothes with no hesitation or fumbles. He chambered a round and finished loading it.
In that moment, before Edel could even react, a firm handgun was already in his outstretched hand.
As he lifted it, he aligned the sight, and as he stopped, his finger burrowed into the trigger guard.
As soon as his eyes opened, he sharply exhaled, lowering his breath one half.
As his icy blue eyes gleamed ominously below the sight,
BANG—!!
“I remember you, Alexander.”
As the gunshot rang out, he growled lowly.
“I’ve been found.”
The attendant standing behind Sir Heodrik suddenly took off his hood, smiling.
At the same time, Heodrik, who had been about to rise from his seat, staggered and collapsed.
Removing his hand from Heodrik’s neck, Alexander smiled broadly.
“I can’t believe you’re back.”
