Chapter 277
Chapter 277
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 277
Chapter Title: The Council (3)
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Dale Pertus. Or, as he was more famously known, [Black Crown] Pertus.
The head of the Bronze Scales, the mastermind behind the Walker outbreaks across the eastern kingdoms, and a grand black mage who began in Fairn and left a pernicious mark throughout civilized society...
-Well, he's just a corpse now.
'In a world where finding a member of the Fifteen Evils who isn't dead is the harder task.'
The Fifteen Evils that destroyed the world. He was a mighty mage who had made it onto that proud list compiled by the heroes of the Holy Pantheon of Good Gods and civilized society, grinding their teeth in rage. The man who had breathed his last under Fernandez's blade during the Merlin City Walker incident.
And what that man had left behind were two things: the bronze bracelet on Fernandez's right wrist, and his research records. A paranoid ledger on human experiments fusing Asias secret ritual characters with his unique magical system.
And those ritual characters—lost wisdoms that even fragments of held immense value in his past life—were carved everywhere throughout this tower.
"A treasure trove..."
"You mean these?"
"Indeed."
Rene Philippa's grumbling hadn't stopped the entire way from the invitation to entering the tower interior. It was usually like this.
"Do these people even know what privacy is?"
"What's a normal date? Secretly meeting some mystery mage? Doesn't seem like it. At least not by Liby standards."
"I really... I was gonna brag to those girls. What is this?"
"And we can't even ride horses. Can you believe it? Even inside Liby's inner castle, horses weren't banned. Do they think they're the emperor or something?"
Before finishing her last sentence, she even tacked on some inscrutable complaint like, 'Now I'm the one who's emperor...'
Fernandez shrugged and said,
"Well, doesn't that mean they're that desperate?"
"Desperate?"
"I told you. A deal isn't about begging first—it's about reviewing incoming requests. They were so pressed they didn't even consider that... which is them undervaluing their own worth. Not bad for us."
At his words, Rene made a face like Prince Robert. In other words, the face of an intelligence operative.
"By the way, treasure trove? You mean these paintings?"
"Individually, they're nothing special. But over there."
Fernandez extended his hand, tracing the long hall of the tower, its walls. The tower stretched in a gentle semicircle upward toward the upper levels, evoking a mystical atmosphere under dim shadows and the occasional flicker of blue mana lamps.
"See that half-moon shape?"
"...Yeah."
"Shaiysh. Citadel of the Ascendant. A ritual character meaning 'to advance toward god.' But here's the funny paradox. Mages don't have gods."
The cost of magic is mana. By common sense. And divinity repels mana. Simple logic.
Mages have no gods. If some transcendent mage gathered divinity with overwhelming power, they'd lose their magic instead.
"So, toward what god? The Holy Pantheon? Or the demons of the abyss?"
"Neither. Magic is an abstract discipline. Shaiysh: advance toward god. More intuitively, it means 'to pursue truth.' Now look over there."
Fernandez quietly continued, pointing to various spots on the murals with his hand.
The indoor scene, like a cluster of midnight stars in full bloom, brought a bizarre sensation on its own. Like dragging the veil of night across the ceiling in broad daylight.
Intimate and dreamlike. Somehow distant and sweet. That kind of sensation.
Before she knew it, Rene was no longer listening to Fernandez. In that moment, she felt his low, deep voice resonating like an orchestra's woodwinds.
Gazing into the deep, dark blue eyes of Fernandez as he earnestly explained. Rene let out a short sigh.
"So this entire hall symbolizes one ritual. The High Council. Or more accurately, the Council of Twelve. These murals tell the story of the council's birth. From the entrance to over there... Are you listening?"
"I was."
"...Must have been boring. It's been a while since I've seen ruins like this, so I got a bit carried away."
"No... No! Carried away?"
In his past life, he never had the chance to see Asias' ancient ruins with his own eyes. Asias fell during the countdown to the Great War, when there was no leisure for ruin sightseeing.
In his youthful prime, when Fernandez was building a career as a ruin explorer, this structure capturing Asias' golden age was fascinating. His nature was that of a scholar, and he couldn't tear his eyes from this new artifact, diving deep into it.
And a passionate young man immersed in his field naturally exudes an aura unique to that age. At least, that's what Rene thought as she watched Fernandez.
"Want to dye it?"
"...Dye?"
"Your black hair suits you so well. How about it?"
"Not interested."
"Makeup?"
"No point, no interest."
Imperial nobles, regardless of gender, adorned themselves before socials. Beyond mere attire, dyeing and makeup were basic etiquette.
Yet Fernandez showed no intent to hide his scar-covered skin, weary eyes, or hair streaked with gray.
That was part of his charm too, but Rene sighed briefly.
"You're going to be the Imperial Chancellor someday—you'll have to be the center of socials. I'm really worried."
"I'm not going to socials."
"Hmm... Wasn't there a clause in our 'marriage contract'? Oh, I must've forgotten. We should add one."
"Even if there was, I'd pay the penalty."
"Ah, dance with me a bit. Dancing together is fun in its own way?"
"Waste of time."
Fernandez and Rene exchanged such banter as they ascended the hall draped in the long mantle of night.
Was this a kind of date?
In Rene's heart, the value of the Asias High Council mages was rising.
This moment was twice as romantic as scurrying through the market alleys earlier. Rene chuckled softly and lightly placed her hand on Fernandez's forearm.
-Creeeak.
At that moment, the sound of hinges grinding echoed. Far at the hall's end, a wall draped in purple tapestry parted on its own, revealing a reception room beyond.
"That's magic too?"
"Fundamentally, since we crossed the tower's entrance, nothing here isn't magic."
Fernandez chuckled and walked ahead.
The Asias Council was an unknown threat. Why they sought Paltennoia, and how they knew his name from his past life. Until he uncovered that...
Rashly accepting an invitation into the forge of a powerful mage cabal hiding their intentions might be foolish. Yet Fernandez deemed it worthwhile. Whether political or personal.
"Young man's insight is impressive."
In the reception room stood a man in thick robes. Long white beard spilled from under his hood. The very image of a painted old mage. His ornate robe glittered under candlelight, dense with ritual jewels and embroidery holding arcane meaning.
"An intriguing time. Thanks for the invitation."
"You're... Grand Duke Karbelier? Forgive the sudden invite. This old man hurried to finish matters upon hearing you'd graced our garden personally. Please don't blame me."
"Yes. Thanks for the fine tour and welcome, Master."
"Kekeke, Master. Call me Alejandro."
-Alejandro?
'Heard the name?'
-...As long as it's not that idiot cousin of ours. No you, no me. But the voice sounds familiar.
Son of Regent Duke Cerned, Fernandez's cousin. Alejandro Cerned. That man died by his hand two years ago. And even if alive, he couldn't be an Asias High Council mage.
Listening to Feizashi, Fernandez narrowed his eyes.
Using a false name before an Imperial Archduke—and one who'd revealed himself—was profound rudeness. And before rudeness, a reason for caution.
"Remove the hood."
"Oh?"
"It's the Grand Duke's presence. Show imperial subject's courtesy."
"Imperial subject? Haha. The Asias Council isn't imperial territory."
The mage grinned. Fernandez met his smile, sensing the harmless mischief beneath.
"Imperial constitution follows territorial principle. As long as your council resides in imperial land, it's subject to imperial law."
"Who enforces punishment?"
"If you knew my identity to invite me, you know I hold judicial authority."
-Clink.
Fernandez drew the chained rosary from his breast. The mage chuckled hoarsely and sat. He cheerily tapped the sofa armrest, then removed his hood.
"My apologies! Serving two with such presence, this old fool overdid it. Sit. I'll prepare refreshments."
"I heard the High Councilmaster sent the invitation?"
"Aren't you facing him now?"
The bearded old mage grinned at Rene's words.
"I apologize for testing you. Allow reintroduction: this old man holds the overly grand position of council chair. Ascanio Juplinburg. I have other names, but my most famous is that one, they say?"
The elder grinned, raising his hand overhead and snapping his fingers with a *crack*. Instantly, a lavish spread appeared on the empty table. As Rene hesitated, the old man chuckled.
"It's safe! No poison. The High Council wouldn't stoop to such pettiness in hospitality!"
Rene sat dazedly at his gesture.
The reception room was impeccably luxurious. True extravagance shines subtly like a pearl in mud, called dignity. Just like the aura filling this room.
Purple and magenta carpets covered the floor; even the smallest furniture exuded refined elegance born of age and taste. Glossy mahogany with spotless silk, gleaming brass candelabras, pristine porcelain, and crimson tea rippling within.
But Rene and Fernandez couldn't hide their wary eyes. This easy? Even backed by ducal prestige, meeting a group's leader had procedures. Especially one with such ancient history.
Fernandez slowly stroked the teacup rim, eyeing the elder. A strange dissonance and bitter deja vu mingled. Not a known face. Not a heard voice. And from before his active era.
Of course, heroes, villains, or notables of this era sometimes persisted into the next. Like Empire's Greatest Sword Darian Shyrake, Liby's Shield Bora, or distant North Chainling's Grand Bishop Orion.
But such figures—those who eventually shone—were all known. The world's end was a filter, sieving the weak. Survivors were epoch-defining giants.
"Asias High Council..."
"Hm?"
Fernandez set down the fiddled teacup and pondered. He never forgot a spell once seen. If spells, how much more a person. If he'd known this council chair in his past life, he wouldn't forget.
"Council of Twelve."
"...Hm."
Intense gazes clashed like sparks between Fernandez and the elder. Fernandez sank slowly into the soft sofa. A known one. One he'd known. But hiding name and face. Archmage.
"Immortal Orkis."
"...Ha!"
A smile curled the elder's lips. He shook his head ruefully and bowed briefly.
-Snap!
Fingers clicked. Instantly, the room's lights extinguished, darkness falling.
"Impressive. Feizashi."