The Golden Council

Ferda arrived at the entrance to the Golden Council.

The nobles who had come as spectators were focused entirely on him.

Their gazes were as though they were looking at someone who had committed a horrific murder and then walked here.

A moment later, a man came running through the frozen spectators.

It was Alexander.

‘As expected, my imagination is rather shallow.’

Ferda had thought Alexander would naturally come looking for fault if he had watched this procession.

But what he had not expected was that Alexander’s appearance would be even uglier than he had imagined.

“I am honored to meet you, Your Highness the Crown Prince of the Empire.”

He offered the greeting with deliberate indifference, as though trying to make Alexander’s blood boil.

“Do you know what you’ve done?!”

“What do you mean?”

“As a noble of the Empire, do you have no pride?! What on earth was that disgraceful display insulting the Empire’s nobles?!”

Actually, what Ferda had prepared was practically taboo.

Nobles were beings who had to shine at all times.

Since they were meant to be looked up to, daring to win the commoners’ sympathy only made them look weak.

“I heard there were no ceremonial uniforms that fit them.”

“There were no ceremonial uniforms?!”

“That’s right. These soldiers from the Far East had no armor issued by the Empire other than that.”

“Don’t make me laugh! You joined hands with the Pascal Trading Company, yet you don’t even have ceremonial uniforms?!”

“If something is absent, one should say it is absent. If one says it is present when it is not, would that not be deception?”

“How dare you……!”

Alexander glared at Ferda and tried to exert his presence.

But Ferda did not budge.

Instead, Alexander turned his head at the chill that seemed likely to suck him into those eyes.

“Count Consilius!”

“Yes.”

He redirected his attack toward the old man standing beside Ferda like an adviser.

Consilius quietly bowed his head.

“Do you truly think that is a procession befitting the dignity of nobles?!”

“I do not believe there is anything wrong with it.”

“W-What did you say?!”

Consilius answered calmly.

“In my view, every one of them showed an appropriate response to this situation.”

“An appropriate response?”

“Yes. Rather than laughing and cheering, should we not take time to mourn the destruction of an entire legion and the soldiers who died in the Far East? I believe this is appropriate to the circumstances.”

“How dare you……! Are you saying this is my fault, and that you people have done nothing wrong?!”

“How could that be? You will soon be His Imperial Majesty, after all…….”

His head was bowed, but his words were clear.

Alexander wanted to execute the two disobedient men who had dared defy his authority on the spot.

It was then, just as he was about to lose patience and spew out some invective.

“It is good to see you, Regent.”

A voice seized control of the atmosphere with a single utterance.

Grand Duke Valdemar Golt, the man who truly held power in the Emergency Response Headquarters.

Even the Crown Prince, a runaway locomotive, changed color when he stepped forward.

Ferda started to step forward as the representative.

Consilius then moved ahead of him and subtly gestured to Ferda.

It meant he would handle this.

“It is truly an honor to see the great hero, Grand Duke Golt, once again.”

A faint chill colored his polite voice.

From that greeting, Ferda realized the two men were old acquaintances.

“It is good to see you, Ulbera. Life in the Far East must have been quite difficult.”

“Is there anywhere in this world that is not difficult?”

“There is no place free of hardship. But is it not important to maintain a resolute appearance in such places?”

He was taking a subtle jab at their ceremonial attire.

Consilius bowed his head once more.

“I apologize. The knights of the Far East were in such dire straits that they could not set aside uniforms for ceremonial occasions.”

“Your finances must be in a difficult state. Did you not send a request to the Empire?”

“Is everyone not in a difficult situation? The Empire is struggling as well, so how could we send such a letter?”

“The nobles may be different since they do not cross the Wall, but are private soldiers not different? What would happen if their weapons grew so old they could not be used when it mattered, and they died as a result?”

Consilius’s body flinched.

He was referring to the time before Ferda joined forces with Stephan, when an old weapon had failed and broken, causing one soldier to meet a senseless death.

Consilius remembered his own incompetent self from that time.

“You need not worry about that anymore. I will not show you anything disappointing again.”

“Hmm. Then that is good.”

Having finished speaking with Consilius, Valdemar turned his gaze toward Ferda.

“It is good to see you, Regent Ferda.”

“It is an honor to meet you, Grand Duke Golt.”

“I am genuinely impressed. I never thought you would put them in such armor and turn public sentiment around.”

“We merely showed them what we had been through.”

“Yes. Even if you do the work, it all comes to nothing if no one notices.”

Valdemar gave Alexander a sidelong glance, then turned away.

“I look forward to seeing what else you have prepared.”

Ferda knew it, and so did Valdemar.

This public hearing would not be a fight with Alexander, but a fight with the Far East.

Ferda quietly watched his retreating back.

‘What a strange old man.’

He looked like an elderly man with deep wrinkles whose back ought to have been hunched, yet his body was impossibly straight.

Ferda had found it strange and checked several times, but he was certain.

‘His skin may be in its nineties, but his insides have remained around thirty.’

It was ironic.

Normally, if one could rejuvenate, one would restore both one’s skin and one’s insides, and if forced to choose only one, one would prioritize the skin.

People tended to take someone who looked old lightly.

‘He intends to make people lower their guard.’

If he had returned to his thirties, people would stay wary, but what about an old man?

It was more profitable to flatter him than to oppose an old man who might die tomorrow or the next day.

If he ever left an inheritance, having even a single line with one’s name in his will would be beneficial.

Using himself as bait.

Olivia’s face suddenly came to mind.

“Regent, you must take your seat…….”

“I know.”

Ferda walked down the corridor toward the council chamber.

There, he saw groups of nobles and knights lining them up.

They were guards, apparently the only people permitted to use force in an assembly where battles were fought with words.

Unlike the Grand Council, this was a human building, so everyone was searched individually.

They repeated the same line to each noble, like parrots.

“Weapons are prohibited from being brought into the postwar conference. Please be advised that bringing in a weapon may result in expulsion or an equivalent penalty, regardless of the reason.”

“Understood.”

Consilius handed his sword to the escort knights, and before his turn came, Ferda undid and handed over his ceremonial sword as well.

The procedure was similar to what Consilius had gone through, but Ferda received one additional sentence.

“I understand that you are a mage, Regent Ferda?”

“That is correct.”

“Please wear this.”

What the guard held out was a mana restraint.

It was a magical device that interfered with spellcasting and suppressed the release of mana; if the wearer suddenly concentrated a large amount of mana, it would knock them unconscious.

Ferda disliked being treated like a criminal simply because he was a mage.

However, it could not be helped, since there had been cases in history of mages attempting to blow themselves up.

“Understood.”

Ferda accepted it humbly.

When Ferda put on the restraint and tried to enter, the guard stopped him again.

“You cannot bring that staff in either.”

The guard said this while looking at the magnificent staff Ferda was carrying.

“Do I look as though I might beat someone to death with this staff?”

“Ordinary staffs are permitted, but magical devices may not be brought inside.”

“Regrettably, it is not a magical device.”

“Then may I ask a mage to examine it directly?”

If it had been a magical device, it would have been only natural to bluff his way past this point and get it through.

To a mage, allowing someone else to touch their magical device was humiliating.

“Examine it.”

But Ferda had nothing to hide.

The guard found that attitude strange and asked the mages to examine it.

In truth, the staff was indeed a magical device made by the First Witch, Lucy Philiaz.

But Ferda could be so confident because he had tested it repeatedly before coming here.

The staff could be used as a magical device by no one but Ferda.

It had no residual mana and no trace of an inscription, so there was no way to determine that it was a magical device.

‘Which is stronger—the First Witch or the Empire…….’

The result came back.

“It is just a staff. I apologize.”

The examiner returning the staff added,

“It is a magnificent staff.”

“I appreciate the compliment, even if you do not mean it.”

Ferda took the staff and entered.

For the first time, Ferda looked upon the Golden Council chamber with a clear mind.

He had seen the Grand Council for the first time only recently, but he had seen the Golden Council several times.

Even so, the sensation it evoked was always the same.

It was magnificent and splendid in a distinctly imperial way, yet new at the same time.

It was a place designed to make every noble who entered feel their pride swell.

‘And a place that amplifies their desire to preserve their own position by any means necessary.’

It deepened factionalism, making the newcomers unhesitatingly commit dirty deeds against one another to advance, while the traditionalists did so to protect their status.

To those people, not only commoners but nobles as well were nothing more than expendables.

Ferda had no interest in that struggle.

Whether newcomer or elder, he had made it perfectly clear what happened to anyone who crossed him.

People gathered in the Golden Council.

The members’ seats were filled with nobles, while reporters and spectators packed the seats on the second floor.

“I hereby call the Arken Empire Crisis Response Conference to order.”

The man conducting the opening ceremony was Valdemar’s close aide and one of the chief commissioners, Akaad Dvelung.

Unlike the gaunt old Valdemar, he was a plump, middle-aged man with a gentle appearance.

His warm smile naturally made people feel at ease.

Such a man stood at the chair and began speaking solemnly.

“Our Empire.”

There was a weight to his solemnity that struck straight to the bone.

“Our Empire possesses a long and glorious history and has upheld the slogan that there is nothing humans cannot conquer. We have a duty to inherit our ancestors’ legacy, protect it, and continue to advance. However, a month ago, this massive monster-summoning incident contaminated one-tenth of the Empire’s territory. An entire legion of our great citizens was annihilated. The nearby small villages also suffered tremendous damage. If we had responded to this situation more quickly, we could have reduced the damage by half.”

His somber tone guided the opening toward an emotional mood.

“Unable to stand by and watch this happen, we convened the members of the Emergency Response Headquarters for the first time in twelve years. From this moment, we will begin the postwar conference—the post-mortem.”

Akaad turned a page of the document.

“Witness, the Emperor’s representative and the Crown Prince, Alexander Arken, please come to the podium and testify.”

Alexander, who had been sitting in front, rose and walked forward.

His expression was heavily and gloomily contorted, but even that was obviously an act.

“I am Crown Prince Alexander Arken. In this sacred Golden Council, I swear to speak only the truth. First, I would like to begin by offering my deepest condolences to the soldiers of the legion who fell in this incident.”

Alexander’s account continued from there.

He explained how they had constructed their strategy and how they had planned to deal with the monsters.

It proceeded exactly according to the scenario Ferda had anticipated.

“Crown Prince.”

“Yes, Commissioner.”

“I see here that there is a record of your speaking with Regent Ferda through an Imperial mage. What did you discuss?”

“That was a message from the Far East while the first colossal monster was forming an encirclement.”

“And what did you discuss?”

“Regent Ferda requested aid, and I said I would send reinforcements.”

Naturally, he left out the part where he had locked horns with Ferda.

“But you did not send the reinforcements, did you?”

The person who abruptly spoke up was Erdes.

The woman, who had been braiding her hair with an indifferent expression, had suddenly thrown out a question.

“Commissioner Roton, please wait until you have been given the floor.”

“Oh, yes. Yes. So you are not going to give me the floor?”

“……I will.”

Dvelung shot Erdes a deeply displeased look, but she asked her next question as though it did not matter.

“As I understand it, the annihilation happened within a month of the incident, right? I hear that you did not send an extermination force during that month, then hurriedly deployed one. Did I misunderstand?”

“Ah, there is some distortion in that account of the facts…….”

Alexander began making desperate excuses.

“The unit we organized was the Fourth Legion, a force focused on exterminating monsters. To deal with magical beasts rather than ordinary monsters, we had to formulate a meticulous strategy. As you know, magical beasts and ordinary monsters are different, do you not?”

“I know. But it seems those idiots in your legion spent that month figuring it out and still did something stupid.”

“Yes. As the commander-in-chief, I feel a sense of responsibility for this.”

“Hmm. Fine.”

He waved his hand as though bored, trying to brush it aside and bring it to an end.

Just as the matter was about to be dismissed unsatisfactorily, someone raised a hand.

“I could not help but ask a question about that, so I would like to speak.”

“Yes, please proceed.”

Valdemar politely requested the floor and looked at Alexander.

A sword capable of cleaving a great mountain in two was lodged in the old man’s eyes.

“Crown Prince Alexander. According to the records, the Valdrova Grand Duchy operated as two separate divisions. The first division was the existing Far Eastern alliance, while the second was commanded by the princess, Olivia Arken.”

“That is correct.”

“After carefully reviewing the records sent by the Valdrova Grand Duchy and the legion’s records, I have narrowed it down to two conclusions. First, the Far East received divine protection and achieved an impossible victory. Second, the entire Fourth Legion was drunk, agreed to an absurd tactic, and acted like moths to a flame. Which do you personally believe to be the case?”

Alexander answered uncertainly, his expression troubled.

“Well…… In the case of the Far East, they knew how to deal with monsters as a matter of course, and their forces were overwhelming compared to ours.”

“Did the Far East not fight alongside a colossal monster?”

“As far as we have confirmed, it has no combat power apart from production, so it must effectively be considered a noncombatant.”

“Then you mean that if you had struck early, there would have been a greater chance this whole disaster would never have happened?”

“……That is correct.”

As expected of the Grand Duke.

He was as skilled at making people choke on their words as one would expect from someone so experienced.

‘Of course, this too was part of the scenario.’

If he had not received Hellus’s report, even Ferda might have been somewhat misled by the way Alexander was being pressed.

But Valdemar’s target was Ferda, above all.

That was merely the buildup.

Ferda subtly shifted his gaze and signaled to Consilius.

It was a question of whether things seemed likely to proceed smoothly.

Naturally, Consilius shook his head.

“We will conclude the questioning here. Now, let us move on to the next witness.”

Alexander, drenched in cold sweat, withdrew.

Akaad called out the next name.

“Representative of the Far East, Regent Ferda Valdrova, would you please come forward?”

Hearing that, Ferda rose from his seat.

“May Alte’s blessing be with you.”

Consilius muttered a prayer under his breath.

Would that god who had cursed him for his entire life really help him?

‘The only ones who can help humans are humans.’

Ferda stood on the podium.