Chapter 69
Chapter 69
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 69
Chapter Title: Elder Council-3
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The Elder Council chamber was little more than a colorless aggregate. These days, it resembled a dreary rampart built of gray bricks, its surroundings blanketed in white snow—a sight that was almost frightening.
Moreover, with the veil of night now draped across the sky, the atmosphere grew even more chilling.
And above all...
"The lion is... actually...卑鄙 and... the wolf has... a faction culture... even the white tiger I believed in... haha..."
There was a woman beside him, muttering through a face drained to ashen gray—no scene could be more eerie.
Strictly speaking, the fault lay with Chris, who had immersed herself in fairy-tale fantasies despite her age. Her mind had half-collapsed at a single remark, and she'd flung open the door right then and there—that alone made it obvious.
Strictly speaking, Leo had simply explained natural facts through scholarly knowledge.
Even under such scolding, Leonardo didn't so much as twitch an eyebrow. From the start, her putting on this show would help preserve her dignity in various ways.
"This way..."
Now utterly pale-faced, Chris led him to the grand gate. At its center was vividly emblazoned the holy sword and lion emblem symbolizing House Reinhardt.
Standing before that gate stirred nostalgic memories of the past. Back then, it had taken more than several years just to reach this point, yet now he stood here after a mere two years and a few months.
"Your honored expression is a nice sight, but you'd best not get too complacent."
Seeing his nostalgic look, Chris offered advice, color returning to her face.
"Those gathered here are the ones who've driven the deepest stakes into the heart of House Reinhardt."
Of course, she was the one who had realized that most bitterly.
"Understood. I'll keep it in mind."
"Then let's go in."
Chris pushed open the grand gate with both hands. What came into view was a massive round table carved from marble.
Seated around the center of the table were ancient luminaries, one after another—all warriors and knights who had shared in House Reinhardt's glory.
And in the largest, most prominent chair sat an old man.
"I pay my respects to Elder Council Leader Jairon Reinhardt."
He knelt and bowed his head toward Jairon, the greatest pillar of House Reinhardt. Their expressions showed slight surprise at this adherence to traditional etiquette.
"...You know of me?"
Even through wrinkled lips, Jairon uttered words of profound weight. That gravity alone gave a sensory glimpse of the stature his name carried in House Reinhardt.
"I know the honored name of Jairon Reinhardt and the lofty renown it commands. Yet the history and feats achieved by the Leader are beyond what my meager experience can comprehend."
This dignified yet seemingly obsequious statement, combined with his humble posture, prompted the elders—conservative at heart—to roughly gauge Leonardo's caliber.
Those who had known the old Leo, however, eyed him with faint disappointment. As if to say he was no different in the end.
"Raise your head."
At those words, Leonardo lifted his gaze. Piercing stares—not merely devoid of goodwill, but infused with mana-laden threats.
In truth, he was accustomed to such looks. Dealing with decrepit old men had become second nature, thanks unwillingly to the ghost at his side.
"The hearing begins now. Answer questions immediately and directly."
The inquiry kicked off without preamble—not merely denying him leisure, but aiming to strangle his breathing room from the outset.
Without even waiting for his acknowledgment, they plunged into questions on their own accord.
"First, explain your handling of the Sage's legacy."
Hearings always probed what appeared to be the subject's greatest merit. The target naturally felt no qualms there, unconsciously gaining some ease.
"To start, why was there no immediate report on such a critical matter?"
The council's sly foxes excelled at sniffing out and exploiting such blind spots. They slowly unraveled faults even in merits, eroding legitimacy and diminishing achievements—a卑鄙 tactic, but one that worked surprisingly well.
"I judged that reporting would pose a danger."
But navigating barrages of such questions was Leo's specialty.
"The first item found, the 'Ring of Ordinary Clothes and Ordinary Oil,' is a bound magical artifact. Once equipped, it cannot be removed."
He laid out the facts as premise,
"Had I reported in that situation, certain mages would have resorted to any means to seize the ring."
then wrapped them in additional rationale and justification.
"That would have jeopardized the safety of the fellow mage wearing it. It was my judgment—guided by House Reinhardt's chivalry—to minimize harm."
If the factual premise held no sin, the ensuing reasons and justifications gained even greater value and credibility.
"You're implying there's no way to report without detection?"
"If I had formally proposed and submitted plans to seek the Sage's legacy, reprimand for that would be understandable."
And so far, the facts flowed mostly in Leonardo's favor.
"But all I did was use personal vacation time, secured via the Mage Tower's permission."
Insufficient grounds to deem it wrongdoing from the outset.
"Head Butler Alfred and the Family Head approved my leave request. If verification is needed for trust, please check."
Having followed procedure to the letter, Leonardo had no vulnerabilities.
"...Then why arbitrarily surrender the subsequent Sage's legacies to the Mage Tower for display? Wasn't that unilateral action?"
Normally, "because they were mine" would suffice.
But his current dynamic with the council was one of distant superior and inferior; asserting ownership could be dismissed with ease.
"Bringing them would have created a scenario with qualification but no justification, value but no benefit."
Thus, wield what they prized most as a shield.
"The Sage's legacy was left by the Sage as wisdom for mages serving the Mage Tower. Taking them merely because I passed the trial would make me the sworn enemy of every mage, Tower included."
For these authority-worshipping elitists, nothing mattered more than the source affirming their authority and chosen status.
"It could even tarnish House Reinhardt's honor. I couldn't allow my personal rights to stain that reputation."
Simply shield with House Reinhardt itself.
"Couldn't you at least consult first? To me, it looks like mere pretext for reaping those benefits."
A fair jab, but the limit of those old men's acuity.
"Not wrong, certainly—but I have that prerogative too. I sought the legacy on personal vacation, not under House Reinhardt orders."
Reinvoke and emphasize the point they'd already conceded.
"If my judgment draws condemnation and scorn from House Reinhardt, punishment can wait until then."
Practically impossible, in truth. Public opinion in certain circles now exalted this conduct, elevating House Reinhardt's chivalric reputation as well.
"...How, then, do you explain the next matter?"
A veiled threat, but effectively a concession of defeat in round one. No grounds to pursue there.
"How do you justify your response to the terror incident at the Mage Tower?"
"Pardon me, but the question's framing is imprecise. Specify what requires explanation, and I'll address it accordingly."
Courteous in tone, yet those old foxes would grasp the subtext.
'Vague as it is, punishing me is impossible.'
A declaration that their shallow ploys couldn't punish or reprimand him—and a provocation to boot.
"Very well... Then, you abandoned Ariasfil Reinhardt alone? Forgot your duties amid vacation?"
"Sharp-tongued and frivolous. Mind your decorum."
Unexpectedly, Marken came to his defense. Affection from past friction, or perhaps a desire to thrash the boy himself—who knew? Grateful either way, for now.
"My absence was because I believed Ariasfil safest at the Mage Tower. It boasts the latest and finest security installations."
"Missed the point? Even there, I'm holding you accountable for shirking duty. Why absent yourself?"
An incisive summary, but superfluous pomp of "formality and dignity" was needed. They pounced on every syllable from underlings.
"Precisely: my presence at that site would have endangered Ariasfil further."
"Why? She could face punishment depending on circumstances, you know..."
Patience now frayed to its limit.
"Mage Jehard Dynons threatened civilians to summon me."
Silence descended. Leo felt less chill than exasperation. He'd reported it, filed the documents—yet clearly unread properly.
"Jehard summoned me via civilian threats, driven by personal grudge. I was unaware of his Clay Society ties at the time."
Thus, his absence during the terror stood explained.
"I prioritized suppressing Jehard and securing civilian safety. I also deemed it tied to Ariasfil's protection."
In reality, absent the Clay Society, Jehard would've been trivial to subdue.
"Arrogant. You thought you could handle a mage solo?"
"Ha, unbelievable."
This time, Chris spoke up.
"Does it mean anything, saying that to the foe you faced—and defeated?"
"I call the judgment arrogant. What if you'd lost? If damage spread as a result?"
Absurd nitpicking left Chris even more dumbfounded.
In that scenario, summoning guards was impossible even if desired; Leo had instead greatly aided Jehard's capture and the Clay Society freaks' extermination immediately after.
Reprimands belonged to the Execution Knights for botched Jehard probes and the council for half-heartedly halting investigations.
With noble blood, Leonardo merited rewards, not punishment.
"And escorting House Reinhardt's lady on personal vacation defies comprehension. Given Mage Tower duties, shouldn't this warrant punishment?"
As the Sage said. Even on leave, principals often traveled with escort knights; the destination Leo chose wasn't the Tower mid-terror, merely the famed magical metropolis.
"The Clay Society clash resolved only thanks to Rios's timely arrival—pure luck. Without him, what then? That youthful arrogance demands reflection!"
"...Is that so?"
Having heard this double-standard hypocrisy woven into sophistry, Leo spoke.
From the outset, words wouldn't sway them. Positionally, he was inferior; they, superior.
An absolute disadvantage.
"Then, what punishment do I rightly deserve?"
So, what recourse remained?
"Insolent fool...! You dare ask that?! Return to the mansion and reflect at once! The council will deliberate..."
"No. That won't do."
Simple.
"What qualification have you to deem right or wrong...!"
"My transgressions are so paltry and brazen, they'd waste the exalted council's judgment. I've realized my pettiness can't uphold Reinhardt's sacred convictions."
The entire council fell silent. It sounded repentant, yet the words' thrust felt misaimed.
"Thus, I'll impose punishment on myself."
"What do you..."
"I'll relinquish my knightage in House Reinhardt. The position proved too weighty for me."
Simply dissolve the superior-inferior dynamic altogether.
Now, who truly stood to lose?