The Grand Council
“I feel the same way.”
“…….”
Hearing Ferda’s reply, Erdes leaned back. The murderous tension that had hung over them vanished as if it had never been, replaced by a hearty burst of laughter.
“Is that so? I’ve got a feeling you and I will get along. You’re young, too—unlike those old fossils. Hope we can talk like this more often.”
“I’ll be sure to contact you first.”
“Or I’ll reach out myself. Prince! I’m off to somewhere else! Beautiful women are always busy, you know?”
“Of course! Take care!”
Erdes lifted her glass and left the table. Once her retreating figure had gone far enough, Alexander turned his head.
“Any connection to the Mage Association?”
“None.”
There would be many, in truth—but that was a story for the distant future.
“I’m not scolding you. If there’s bad blood left, better to settle it quickly.”
He said as much, yet Ferda knew the truth. Alexander was sweating bullets. For an incompetent first prince to build a power base, he needed immense strength—and that strength was magic.
“More to the point, I hear the Far East has been importing monster corpses lately…….”
The sudden change of topic drew a simple answer from Ferda.
“That’s right.”
“We never had enough landfill space, so burning them every time was a nuisance. Hauling those carcasses away is a real favor.”
Alexander chuckled as he spoke, but his expression was tight with urgency.
Confess what you’re up to.
Ferda weighed his options. The decision to keep silent about the Magic Stones had been his alone. Revealing it now felt premature. He had come prepared with a vague cover story, yet under Alexander’s gaze he found he could not use it.
This is the bastard who turned a blade on his own father out of hunger for the throne.
No matter how hard he polished his self-justifications, he remained a greedy scoundrel. That was an immutable truth. Blinded by the crown, he wanted to stand above a hundred million subjects. That was why he had fawned over Erdes, careful never to offend her.
Which is why Erdes thinks I’m carrying on Thessalos’s work.
There was a connection, after all. Ferda deliberated. Both choices were wretched; he simply had to pick the less wretched one.
“The truth is, we’re researching a way to produce Magic Stones from monster remains.”
He told the unvarnished fact. Alexander’s ears perked up at once. Anything involving magic meant money.
“Magic Stones? What are those? Something like the crystal orbs mages use?”
“Similar, yet different. These simply hold pure mana.”
“Oh-ho…….”
Ferda explained everything currently known.
“So they could, say, supplement a mage’s mana?”
“That might be possible, but they can’t restore spent mana, and a mage can’t use them directly.”
“Ah, is that so?”
“Efficiency is still only about seven percent, and for actual mage use…….”
“Ah, I see. Impressive, though.”
Alexander kept voicing admiration, yet Ferda watched the man’s interest flake away handful by handful.
“Anyway…… you’re certain this has nothing to do with black magic?”
“I am.”
“Of course research forces one to dabble in many fields. Intention matters, doesn’t it? Can you assure me there’s not even the slightest dark intent mixed in?”
Alexander pressed relentlessly. Ferda was about to parrot yet another reassurance when a faint fragrance brushed his nose. He knew that scent.
“You’re being rather aggressive for a first meeting, Brother.”
The lovely voice turned both men’s heads as if by instinct. Olivia Arken stood there, radiant in a gown befitting the empire’s flower, a smile full of quiet allure on her lips.
Alexander’s face lit up the moment he saw her.
“My little sister arrives! You two must have met already—she welcomed the regent in my place! I hope she treated you well?”
He casually rested a hand on Olivia’s shoulder.
“Oh my? Why would you worry about that?”
Olivia answered with a sunny smile. Alexander’s hand slid uselessly down the line of her shoulder.
“Because a problem has arisen, of course—a serious problem for the imperial house.”
“It was only a groundless fear. Lord Ferda is a man of great magnanimity.”
“The empire’s precarious safety leaves no room for carelessness. What about the warehouse incident that nearly turned the whole country upside down? The more I think about it, the more I believe your presence in politics can only bring danger.”
“Is that so? Yet everything was settled smoothly. Oh, and Brother, you seem unaware of what even happened—the moment the first-class alert sounded you fled with your tail between your legs… or rather, evacuated.”
Innocent face, lashes fluttering like a butterfly’s wings. They smiled at each other while stabbing without restraint—painful even for bystanders to watch.
Both of them have beautiful faces.
Ferda could only marvel. Perhaps it was a genetic trait of House Arken.
“That’s standard procedure, isn’t it? If the imperial heir dies, the empire collapses. I must survive for the empire’s sake.”
“Ah, of course. Naturally. How very heir-like of you.”
Her eyes curved into crescent moons as she lightly covered her mouth with a fan—or rather, pretended to, letting a mocking smile show just enough to sting.
“Quite the etiquette for someone who boldly raised the blade of rebellion only to retreat in disgrace.”
“Heh. This fox of a girl has more than she can handle and spends her time bewitching men—no wonder they call her a temptress.”
“Better than having something and being unable to use it, don’t you think? For instance…….”
Olivia’s gaze flicked downward toward Alexander’s crotch.
“Father has been saying he wants a granddaughter. When do you plan to give him a grandchild?”
Alexander’s face flushed scarlet beneath his forced laughter. His eyes slid toward Ferda.
“Be careful. Even the most beautiful rose has thorns. Who knows—those thorns might be coated in deadly poison.”
He offered the warning with a grave expression. Ferda looked down at him without expression, barely containing his contempt.
Says the man already pricked by those very thorns.
The details were unclear, but just before Olivia’s death she had been in Alexander’s bedchamber. In the end he had tried to claim his own sister and been stabbed for it. He too had fallen for her beauty. Hearing caution from such a man felt pathetic.
“I know.”
“You do? Good. Then smile a little. Your face is far too stiff.”
Alexander clapped Ferda’s back and flashed the easy grin of a natural charmer. When he laughed, the surrounding nobles laughed with him. Watching the display, Ferda thought only one thing.
I want to go home.
Baldrova’s face floated gently before his mind’s eye.
“So, in short, it’s not useful for anything yet?”
“Correct.”
“Understood. I’ll start paying attention to the Far East’s development myself.”
A lie, of course. What interest could a first prince busy currying favor with central nobles have in the Far East?
“I am grateful for Your Highness’s concern.”
So Ferda answered with a lie of his own.
“Meet a few more people before the council begins. Ah—someone’s calling me.”
Alexander raised his glass and walked away. At last, a moment to breathe—yet the instant the thought formed, someone lightly tugged Ferda’s sleeve. Olivia. She still stood beside him.
“No one else you need to see?”
He asked curtly.
“No one important. Something far more important remains.”
Her shoulder brushed his.
“The agents of the great dragons will arrive soon.”
The dragons’ agents—meaning the Dragon Spawns.
Dragon Spawns, hm.
Ferda had rarely encountered them. At best he had glimpsed the spawn of the Blue Dragon, master of magic, in passing. He needed to see with his own eyes what other Dragon Spawns besides Ruri looked like.
“I’m curious.”
Ferda answered, and Olivia smiled brightly.
“Then let’s go together.”
She extended her hand. Her red lips moved with the shyness of a demure maiden—enough to set any man’s heart racing.
“What is it?”
Ferda stared at the offered hand and asked flatly.
“Oh my? I’m asking you to escort me. You wouldn’t leave a lady to walk alone, would you?”
Olivia blinked. Her hunched shoulders made her look like a defenseless girl. Ferda took a half-step back.
“I already have a fiancée.”
“Fiancée or not, this is simply what one does. If we’re to build trust as partners, we should manage at least this much, don’t you think?”
“I’ll leave it to Sir Jed—”
“Have you ever seen a woman who’s been slighted?”
A shadow crossed Olivia’s face.
“It doesn’t feel good, you know?”
“…….”
As if Ferda cared. When he merely looked unimpressed, Olivia leaned her face another handspan closer.
“Don’t you feel we need to strengthen trust as allies inside the empire? We’ll share many secrets—surely this much is necessary?”
She clung persistently, half-threatening. Yet for the moment Olivia was his only collaborator within the empire, so ignoring her was risky.
“Haa… fine.”
“You should have done that from the start.”
Resigned, Ferda offered his hand. He meant only a perfunctory grip, but Olivia seized it firmly and beamed. Ferda glanced sideways at Ruri. Her face was expressionless—no, her lips were faintly pouted in a clear “I don’t like this” look that only someone who saw her daily would notice. As a proper maid she voiced no open complaint, which somehow made it more unsettling.
I hate getting scrubbed raw.
The social whirl offered nothing but mental and physical torment. Half in resignation, Ferda led Olivia toward the windows.
Outside Blancaros’s domain stood a single golden carriage. From it stepped an elderly man in religious vestments and a mitre, accompanied by clergy.
“Do you know who they are?”
Olivia slipped her hand through Ferda’s arm and locked it tight.
“The Holy Empire of Odograsado.”
“Correct.”
The Golden Dragon, Odograsado. A nation founded upon the religion that deified her. Though called a Holy Empire, it was closer to a confederation of the Holy Kingdom and its surrounding realms. Odograsado had no spawn, so the Pope and four high prelates were walking forward to attend in person.
Moments later a blue portal opened. Beyond it stretched the cool landscape unique to the northwest. Dragon Spawns with blue hair and rounded horns stepped through.
“Iorga’s spawn. They never miss a Grand Council.”
The forces of Iorga—master of the Magic Tower and called the Eye that Watches the Continent. More researchers than mages, they walked with the elegance of true nobles.
“Ah, and there they come as well.”
Olivia tilted her head toward the sky. Five alien dots streaked across the blue, racing toward them like silver comets. Ferda had seen such flight through Ruri before.
Silverwind.
Despite their fierce approach they landed as lightly as falling leaves and stepped into Blancaros’s domain. Ferda confirmed their presence, then glanced aside. Ruri stood watching them in silence. In her eyes lived an emotion utterly different from any he had seen before. He could feel how tense she was.
“Looks like only three. Storeus’s side won’t be joining today. Lucky—one less headache.”
“They have quite the reputation.”
“They’re the Evil Dragons, after all. Pure troublemakers. They love starting fights.”
As the Dragon Spawns gathered, the onlookers began to move one by one, heading for the Grand Council chamber.
“We should go as well.”
Olivia released his arm. Her status was that of a princess; she held none of the princes’ voting rights. Ferda joined the throng flowing toward the hall. The Grand Council—where the power brokers of an entire continent assembled—was about to begin.