Chapter 179: The Round Table Conference
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 179: The Round Table Conference
"I wish to see my father."
In a wide corridor spacious enough for two carriages to drive side-by-side, standing before a magnificent door carved from exquisite rosewood, Celicia stared at the two motionless knights and repeated in a cold voice:
"I wish to see my father."
The towering knights were clad in heavy armor. They emitted no breath of the living, standing as still as statues. Only through the narrow slits of their visors did a gaze devoid of any emotional fluctuation leak out.
Celicia waited in silence.
Occasionally, palace maids would hurry past, bowing briefly before scurrying on their way.
The patrol guards had clearly increased their shifts by more than one. As soon as the front squad turned a corner, the following squad was already in sight. In the intricate corridors of the Imperial Palace, not a single blind spot could be found.
The atmosphere of the entire palace had become tense and solemn, as if a war were imminent, leaving everyone’s nerves frayed.
Yet, the nearest enemies of the Leopold Empire should have been the demons at the border, thousands of miles away.
"Giddy-up! Haha, giddy-up, horse..."
From outside the window, a boisterous noise drifted in.
Celicia lowered her gaze. In the palace gardens, a handsome man in his twenties was riding on the back of an attendant. He brandished an unsharpened blade, charging toward a flowing fountain like a knight on a quest.
A swarm of maids and guards surrounded him anxiously, terrified that he might trip or bump into something. But the man, despite his scruffy, unshaven face, wore the innocent smile of a child.
That was her eldest brother, First Prince Albert Leopold—a fool born with a mental disability.
In the entire palace, he was the only one who remained incongruously joyful.
"His Majesty says: enter."
The knight finally responded. The halberds crossed before the door were raised, and the heavy doors swung open automatically.
Inside the opulent room, a middle-aged man of majestic bearing stood with his hands behind his back. From the high balcony, he gazed out over Belland, bathed in sunlight.
Audrich III—the true ruler of this nation.
"Father."
Celicia entered the room, lifting her skirt slightly in a respectful curtsy. The vast room was devoid of even a single maid, appearing empty and desolate. The door closed silently behind her.
Audrich III did not respond, his gaze remaining fixed on the distance.
The Imperial Palace was situated at the heart of Belland on high ground, offering a view of nearly half the city.
Marked by the shimmering waters of the Old Rhine, the outer ring consisted of low, jumbled dwellings shrouded in shadow—the Lower District.
Inside, closer to the palace, buildings filled with artistic flair were arranged in an orderly fashion like a manicured garden, seemingly forever bathed in sunlight.
That was the Upper District.
Audrich III loved to look out over the city from here. Many sights could only be truly appreciated for their breathtaking beauty when seen with one's own eyes.
For instance, from this vantage point, the city resembled a great tree standing in the sun, along with its shadow.
The more luxuriant the foliage, the more massive the shadow became.
But for a tree, having foliage that was too lush was not necessarily a good thing.
"The weather is turning cold," Audrich III suddenly remarked, as if he had spotted something.
"Autumn has arrived."
Celicia paused for a moment. "Father, please remember to wear more layers."
"I thought you wouldn't care about things on this side."
"The fire is already burning at my feet. How could I not care?"
Celicia gave a self-deprecating laugh and went straight to the point. "So, Father, who exactly is our enemy?"
"Enemy? Heh, 'enemy' is the wrong word. What we face this time is not human."
Audrich III turned around to look at the daughter he hadn't seen in a long time. His eyes, the same ice-blue as Celicia’s, held a depth of indifference and cruelty that far surpassed hers.
But behind that coldness, a flicker of gratification appeared.
"Since you are here, join me for today's state council. You've grown up in the blink of an eye; it's time you saw how the world really works."
"State council..."
Mulling over the term, Celicia’s cold eyes darkened slightly. She cast a sidelong glance around the empty, magnificent room once more.
"Father, is Brother Andrew not here?"
Andrew Leopold, her second brother. If there was a state council, he was the one most qualified to stand by their father's side.
"He went to a country manor to escape the heat."
"Escape the heat..."
It was autumn...
"That boy says his fear of heat disease has flared up again. He might not return until winter. But no matter; he’s had that ailment since he was a child. As his father, I cannot be too harsh on him, can I? Especially since he is my only son now."
Audrich III turned and walked back into the room from the balcony. He poured himself a glass of red wine, the ruby on his finger sparkling with the same crystalline hue as the liquid.
Celicia’s expression grew increasingly puzzled.
"Would you like a drink? It's a tribute wine from the Locke Winery."
"Thank you, Father, but I do not drink."
"Ah, I almost forgot. You cannot touch alcohol."
As if remembering something amusing, a rare, soft smile touched the corners of Audrich’s stern face.
He took a small sip, set the glass down, and turned to don a voluminous ceremonial robe. It was sewn from white ermine and the finest silk, inlaid with magnificent gold thread and gemstones. He began clumsily fastening the hidden clasps and complex ermine-tail ornaments—tasks that usually required several maids to complete quickly.
"Damn it. I told those tailors to make it simpler. Those tailors are harder to talk sense into than the nobility. Sooner or later, I’ll have their heads."
"...Father, do you need my help?"
"I haven't become so old and senile that I can't dress myself."
It took a full twenty minutes for Audrich III to finish dressing. He walked toward the door, casually picking up the sword that leaned against the wall next to his scepter—the scepter that symbolized supreme dignity.
He hung the sword at his waist, hidden beneath the cloak-like ceremonial robe.
"Let's go. It's almost time."
The doors opened silently once more. The knights outside dropped to one knee in respect.
A maid stood with her head bowed, holding a copper basin filled with hot water and a towel in both hands.
"Your Majesty, please wash your hands."
Audrich III nodded slightly. He had a slight obsession with cleanliness and needed to wash his hands frequently.
He reached out toward the copper basin.
But the moment before his hands touched the hot water, he suddenly stopped.
Reflected in the water, his cold gaze shifted imperceptibly for a split second.
A hint of mockery appeared in his eyes.
His pinky finger twitched.
Celicia’s silver-white hair was suddenly ruffled as a breeze swirled through the wide corridor.
The wind carried a bone-chilling cold.
Pfft.
The sound of a bubble being pricked rang out with startling clarity.
Blood sprayed.
A short figure hidden in the shadow of a knight moved in an instant—before Celicia could even register it—shifting in front of Audrich III and drawing a short sword.
The blade was plunged... into the maid’s body.
Only then did the panic and terror appear on the maid's face. Her hands trembled, dropping a dagger that had been concealed within the towel.
An assassin?
Celicia finally reacted, but as she tried to condense the cold in her hands... she failed.
The Forbidden Spell covering the palace sealed all mana flow. Here, no magic or Divine Blessing could be activated.
Therefore, no matter how skilled an assassin was, they could only use primitive methods like a dagger in this palace.
—But this was undoubtedly foolish.
The short sword had accurately pierced the maid's vitals, yet she did not die immediately. She rose unsteadily, the panic and fear on her face replaced by an indescribable fanaticism and ferocity.
"The Moon is eternal!"
She lunged at Audrich III again, bare-handed.
"The Moon is eternal!"
BOOM!
A thunderous hum echoed, nearly piercing the eardrums.
It was the sound of a massive halberd brutally tearing through the air.
The halberd, weighing over a thousand pounds, was like a child's toy in the hands of the Imperial Guard. In an instant, it swept through the air in a perfect arc, accurately cleaving the lunging maid's body.
The maid was instantly cut in two. Nauseating organs and blood splattered everywhere.
A faint light flickered in the short figure's hand, and a transparent shield expanded rapidly, blocking all the filth from reaching Audrich III and Celicia.
The patrol guards quickly surrounded the area, extinguishing any possibility of further danger.
However, the stench of blood and flesh still spread uncontrollably.
Audrich III remained expressionless. He merely looked coldly at the maid, who, with only half a body left, was still squirming and struggling on the ground, crawling toward him as if trying to drag him into hell with her.
"I recognize you. You are one of the maids who dresses me daily."
"Guh... guh... The Moon... is... coming..."
The maid stared at Audrich III with venomous eyes. Even as her life force ebbed away, her lips curled into a maddened smile.
"The Divine Kingdom... will purge everything... and I... shall have eternal life... under the Moon's light... guh-guh... eternal life."
"It seems communication is impossible."
Audrich III’s finger twitched.
The whistling wind rose again as the halberd smashed down, grinding the maid's remains into a pulp.
The guards swarmed forward, clearing the remains, wiping the blood, and washing the floor with such practiced efficiency that it seemed they had rehearsed this many times.
In less than a minute, a fresh red carpet was laid out in the wide corridor. Everything looked as good as new.
The knight stood still behind Audrich III like a statue once more. The short figure, after bowing to him, faded silently like ink dropping into water, merging into the shadows.
It was as if nothing had happened.
Only a faint scent of blood lingered.
"A believer of the Moon?"
Celicia remained cold, but her voice carried a trace of disbelief she hadn't noticed herself.
"The Imperial Palace has been infiltrated by evil cultists?"
"Blind faith is the hardest thing in this world to extinguish, isn't it? That's why I hate those religious fanatics."
Audrich III washed his hands in a copper basin brought by a new maid. The maid was trembling, holding the basin as if it weighed a ton, struggling to keep the water from splashing out.
"But, why..."
Everything that had happened that morning replayed in Celicia’s mind, and several oddities were explained.
But new questions began to form.
"You want to ask: if those cultists had the ability to plant people by my side, why didn't they wait for a critical moment? Why waste them on such a blind assassination attempt?"
"Yes." Celicia nodded slightly.
Thinking carefully, in a place like the palace, the only people likely to be brainwashed and infiltrated by cultists were the lowest-level maids or guards.
But if used correctly, these people could certainly play an unexpected role at a critical moment.
No matter how one looked at it, it was better than charging in brainlessly with a dagger.
"That is, of course, because... time is running out."
A mocking smile appeared on Audrich III’s lips as he glanced toward the distant horizon, looking at something unknown.
"Like a beast at a dead end, it must bristle every hair on its body just to fight for a slim chance of survival, mustn't it?"
*
The Throne Hall.
The crystal ceiling cast a soft light, illuminating the magnificent hall.
Massive bronze pillars, carved with heroic epics and the history of previous kings, supported a dome that felt like the sky itself. Within this solemn space, anyone would feel small.
This was especially true when there were only two people in a hall that could hold nearly a thousand.
Celicia’s cold eyes swept across the empty hall, a hint of confusion in her gaze.
Wasn't there supposed to be a state council? Where was everyone?
"Grip my shoulder."
Sitting on the throne, Audrich III spoke languidly, resting his cheek on his hand as if half-asleep.
Celicia did as she was told, placing a delicate hand on her father's shoulder.
At that moment, she heard the sound of Audrich III tapping the armrest of the throne. The sound was crisp, like tapping on jade.
But in an instant, the sound became monumental, as if the pipe organs of a hundred Belland Royal Concert Halls were being played simultaneously. Amidst the layers of sound, it merged into a tragic resonance that seemed like the world's final cry at the moment of destruction.
In that apocalyptic resonance, Celicia’s consciousness suddenly blurred. It felt as if an invisible hand had grabbed her soul and dragged it into a bottomless abyss.
"This is..."
Fortunately, that desperate feeling of falling soon vanished. When Celicia came to her senses, she found herself still standing by Audrich III’s throne.
It was as if she had merely had a brief nightmare.
But when she looked up, everything before her had changed.
The bronze pillars were now grey, white, and decaying, carved with hideous demons. The shattered crystal ceiling flickered gloomily like ghosts. Above the dome, a thick grey mist swirled like an Inverted Sea.
It still seemed to be the Throne Hall, but it was not the solemn, magnificent hall of Celicia’s memory. This place was eerie and terrifying, with a cold chill that seeped into the bone. It was the complete antithesis of the true Throne Hall.
Looking down, the hall was no longer empty. A massive round table had appeared before Audrich III’s throne. Around the table was a ring of stone chairs, each occupied by a figure shrouded in mist. The high backs of the chairs were carved with strange, ancient, and solemn script, far less luxurious than the throne.
However, the fact that they could sit at the same table as Audrich III proved that these people, who had been waiting in silence, were of noble status.
They certainly weren't the useless domestic nobles.
Countless questions filled her mind, but Celicia found she was under a silence spell; she couldn't make a sound.
Am I only meant to be a spectator?
With that thought, Celicia calmed herself and watched in silence.
*
"Your Majesty."
When Audrich III appeared, the figures in the stone chairs rose and bowed with their hands over their hearts.
But the etiquette stopped there. It seemed to be a sign of respect for Audrich III as an individual rather than for his title.
"Is everyone here?"
Audrich III’s languid gaze swept around the table, his fingers lightly tapping the armrest.
"Since everyone is here, drop the disguises. This isn't an offline meeting for an evil cult. We're all old acquaintances; there's no need for secrecy."
"Oh? It isn't?"
A surprised voice came from the end of the table.
"I thought we were gathered here by the call of some great deity to do something big."
The mist around the last stone chair at the end of the table dissipated, revealing... a certain Pink Bear who seemed to be squirming uncomfortably because the chair was too hard.
The Pink Bear extended a furry hand from its mouth, holding a cigar. It expertly flicked the ash, scratched its backside, and said regretfully:
"What a pity. I even came up with a title for myself. I was going to be called... The Fool. Sounds good, doesn't it? Doesn't it have a certain mystique?"
"I think the title of 'Joker' suits you better."
A faint, mocking voice came from the stone chair nearest to Audrich III’s right.
"Who said that!"
The Pink Bear slammed the table in a rage.
But when he saw the face of the old man gradually appearing on the stone chair, his anger vanished instantly. The pink bear face visibly paled.
"Arch... Archbishop Canterbury? You... why are you here, old man?" The Pink Bear rubbed his furry hands together, forcing a fawning smile.
"Ho-ho, His Majesty invited me. I had to come."
On the stone chair, the kind old man in a simple white divine robe chuckled, but his gaze toward the Pink Bear was cold.
"Mr. Pink Bear, I received a report that you embezzled a Holy Sword from my Life Church, profaned a Saintess, and distributed certain irreverent books. I wonder..."
"No! Absolutely not!"
The Pink Bear slammed the table in fury. "Which hater is spreading rumors about me? I, Pink Bear, am an upright man of loyal faith, a devout believer of the Goddess of Life. How could I do such a thing? Impossible, absolutely impossible! If I really did something as heartless as embezzling a Holy Sword or hiding a Saintess Photo Book, I'll let my whole family—"
"Enough!"
Audrich III rubbed his throbbing temples, his voice carrying a rare, suppressed anger.
"Who let this idiot in?"
"My apologies, Your Majesty."
Beside him, Professor Prang stood up with an embarrassed expression and said helplessly, "Pink Bear said he is now the Acting Dean of Saint Maria and is qualified to attend, so he forced his way in."
"Drag him out."
Audrich III paused. "Throw him down there."
"What... down there?"
The Pink Bear’s face filled with terror. Before he could say anything else, Professor Prang, with a grimace, kicked the embarrassing creature over and dragged him out by his bear leg.
"Wait, no! You can't do this to me!"
The Pink Bear’s claws left deep marks on the floor as he struggled hysterically.
"I can't go down there! I can't go down there! I have a grudge against that Moon! I killed a lot of His believers before; He'll make my life hell! Even if I have to go down, not now! Let me go! I've bled for Leopold! I've sweated for Saint Maria! You can't do this to me! I want to see Audrich! Let me see Audrich! Audrich, I'm your uncle! I raised you from a baby! I still have photos of you running around with a bare butt—AH!"
With a terrified scream from the bear, the world fell silent.
Professor Prang flickered and returned to his seat.
The meeting continued.
Audrich III glanced to the right, where mostly elderly figures sat.
He couldn't help but sigh. "Many of you have grown so old I hardly recognize you. Let's start with introductions."
"As you wish, Your Majesty."
The first to speak was the kind old man closest to him. Though he wore a simple cleric's robe, his every movement exuded the majesty of one who had long held a high position.
"Archbishop Canterbury Eng, Belland Cathedral, Life Church."
Archbishop Canterbury nodded kindly to everyone. Everyone his peaceful gaze touched rose to return the gesture.
As one of the five Holy Seats of the Life Church and the general representative of the Life Church in the Leopold Empire, Archbishop Canterbury’s seniority and status commanded respect from everyone.
"Dodge Sloer, Tower of Origins."
The second figure, dressed in a mage's robe, stood up. His introduction was brief.
But no one underestimated him. Setting aside the Tower of Origins—the largest mage organization on the continent—the name Dodge alone represented an insurmountable peak in the field of summoning magic.
Like Archbishop Canterbury, Dodge nodded to everyone before his gaze fell on Professor Prang.
"I heard that Grand Magister Mela Domir has awakened."
He took off his wide-brimmed, pointed mage hat and asked respectfully, "I wonder if I might have the honor of paying her a visit?"
"My apologies, Mr. Dodge."
Professor Prang took off his hat and replied with a wry smile, "Before I came here, Teacher Mela specifically instructed me that she is not seeing any guests for the time being."
"That is a pity."
Dodge nodded in disappointment and said no more, sitting back down.
...
"Adrian Sandel, Stone Cauldron Association."
...
"Adolf Lovis, Branch Guild President of the Adventurer's Association, Belland."
...
"Mitsukoshi United Commercial Alliance..."
One by one, the figures stood up, calmly speaking names that would cause a sensation in the outside world.
Even with Celicia’s composure, she found it difficult to remain calm.
These names represented not just powerful individuals, but the top organizations on the continent.
The Tower of Origins, where most mages were registered or affiliated...
The Stone Cauldron Association, which nearly monopolized alchemical knowledge...
The Adventurer's Association, with branches across the continent...
The multinational Commercial Alliance...
Even excluding the outlier that was the Life Church, these organizations were giants that could decide the fate of small nations.
If those were the figures on the right, then on the left...
Celicia recognized most of the people on the left without introductions, which made it even harder for her to remain calm.
"Since our guests have introduced themselves, you hosts should do the same. Let's not be strangers."
Audrich III looked to the left and spoke softly.
"Yes."
Since it was a round table, the introductions circled back. Professor Prang, at the end of the left side, was the first to stand.
"Prang Ronir, Professor of Magic, Saint Maria Academy."
"Hathaway Field, Dean of Saint Maria Academy, currently in charge of the Imperial Special Disaster Response Department."
"Dean of the Imperial Royal Military Academy..."
"Representative of the Imperial Intelligence Department..."
"Representative of the Imperial Military..."
"Commander of the Imperial Royal Knight Legion..."
"Imperial..."
"First Sword Bearer... of the Silence Bureau."
The last to speak was an extremely old man. He looked half-asleep, his skin covered in age spots. He didn't even stand up when he spoke, looking as if he already had one foot in the grave.
But when he spoke, everyone turned a solemn gaze toward him, as if trying to etch that legendary face into their memories.
A hundred years ago, unable to tolerate the Life Church’s frequent interference in internal affairs under the guise of fighting evil gods, the Empire secretly established an anti-evil god department called the "Silence Bureau."
The old man known as the Sword Bearer was the founder of the Silence Bureau.
In his hands, the Silence Bureau was like a sharp sword. It gradually replaced the Life Church’s Tribunal within Leopold, crushing the conspiracies of cultists and evil gods with silent, cold, and efficient methods.
The Silence Bureau had thus become the most powerful force in Belland. Anyone associated with an evil god—whether commoner or noble, woman or child—would face their cold, impartial judgment.
It was even said that when these ruthless thugs dealt with cultists, they wouldn't even spare the family dog a slap; they’d shake the yolks out of the eggs and dig up the earthworms to split them vertically. They were utterly heartless!
"You're actually still alive."
Staring at the "old friend" he had clashed with for nearly a century, Archbishop Canterbury sighed with regret. "I thought you were long dead."
"Heh, bad weeds grow tall. I suppose I'm one of them."
"But your subordinates don't seem as resilient," Archbishop Canterbury said gloatingly.
"I heard a branch of the Silence Bureau was overrun by cultists. A seemingly important figure... let me think, Anna Kabulin, was it? She was taken by the cultists. Tsk, tsk. That's a fatal mistake. If that Anna Kabulin is related to the evil god's plot, do you know how much damage this mistake could cause? So, Your Majesty, perhaps you should allow the Church to redeploy the Tribunal to Belland. Give us one day, and we guarantee to bring Anna Kabulin back. Though, whether she's in one piece, we cannot say."
"..."
Audrich III did not answer. He remained leaning against his throne, cheek in hand, lazily looking at the old man, seemingly waiting for an explanation.
"Anna Kabulin may indeed be related to the evil god's plot." The old man opened his cloudy eyes and glanced at Archbishop Canterbury. His voice was flat, yet it carried a strange chill.
"And she was indeed taken by those cultists at a great cost."
"Hmm?"
Archbishop Canterbury, who had only intended to annoy his "old friend," was taken aback. He hadn't expected the man to admit it so quickly. Had the Silence Bureau truly become so decadent?
"However—"
The old man suddenly changed his tone. He stopped looking at Archbishop Canterbury and turned to Audrich III, saying coldly:
"Anna Kabulin has never left the control of the Silence Bureau, Your Majesty. Never."