277. The Council (3)
Dale Pertas. More famously known as [Black Crown] Pertas.
The head of the Bronze Scales and the mastermind behind the Walker incident that swept across the Eastern Kingdom, a High Dark Mage who left a notorious mark on civilized society starting from Phaeirn…
– Well, he’s a corpse now.
‘In a world where finding one of the Fifteen Evils who isn’t a corpse is harder.’
The Fifteen Evils who brought the world to ruin. A great mage who was included in that proud list created by the heroes of the Church of the Temple of the Gods and civilized society, grinding their teeth. A man who met his end under Fernandez’s blade during the Merlincity Walker incident.
And what he left behind were two things: the bronze bracelet on Fernandez’s right wrist and his research notes. A paranoid notebook on human experiments combining Aseas Vision spell characters with his unique magic system.
And those spell characters. In his past life, even a fragment of them held immense value, and now, lost wisdom was engraved all over this tower.
“A treasure vault, huh…”
“These things?”
“Yeah, that’s right.”
Rene Philippa’s grumbling didn’t stop the entire time they were invited into the tower. It mostly went like this:
“Do these people even know what privacy is?”
“What’s a normal date? Secretly meeting with a mysterious mage? That doesn’t seem like it. At least not by Ribue standards.”
“I really… wanted to brag to those girls. What is this?”
“And they don’t even let us ride horses. Can you believe it? Even within Ribue’s inner walls, horseback riding wasn’t banned. They act like they’re the Emperor or something.”
Before finishing her last sentence, she even added an inexplicable complaint, “Now I’m the Emperor…” Fernandez shrugged and said,
“Well, doesn’t that just mean they’re worn out?”
“Worn out?”
“I told you. A deal isn’t about making the first offer, but reviewing the requests that come in. Those guys were in such a hurry they didn’t even consider that… It’s like devaluing themselves. For us, it’s not bad.”
At his words, Rene made a face like Prince Robert. In other words, she looked like a spy agency operative.
“Anyway, a treasure vault? These paintings?”
“Individually, they’re nothing special. But over there.”
Fernandez pointed to the long hall of the tower, its walls stretching in a smooth semicircle upwards, creating a mysterious atmosphere under the occasional flicker of blue magical lights and deep shadows.
“See that crescent-shaped painting?”
“…Yes.”
“Shayshi. The Bastion of the Ascendant. A spell character meaning ‘to advance towards the gods.’ But it’s a funny paradox. Mages don’t have gods.”
The cost of magic is mana. According to common sense. And divinity rejects mana. So it’s simple logic.
Mages have no gods. If some transcendent mage gathered divinity with great power, they would lose their magic.
“Then what god are they advancing towards? The Church of the Temple of the Gods? Or the demons of the Abyss?”
“Neither. Magic is an abstract discipline. Shayshi. To advance towards the gods. In a more intuitive sense, it means ‘to seek truth.’ Now look over there.”
Fernandez pointed here and there on the mural, continuing in a low voice.
The interior scene, like a starry night sky, brought a strange sensation. As if the night had been pulled over the ceiling in broad daylight.
Secretive, and dreamlike. Somewhere distant and sweet. That kind of feeling.
Before she knew it, Rene was no longer listening to Fernandez. At that moment, his voice resonated low and deep, like an orchestral wind instrument.
Watching Fernandez’s deep, dark, blue eyes as he continued his serious explanation, Rene let out a short sigh.
“So this entire hall symbolizes a single spell. The High Council. No, it’s more accurate to call it 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 listening.”
“…Must have been boring. It’s been a while since I’ve seen such ruins, so I got a bit carried away.”
“No… not at all! Carried away?”
In her past life, she never had the chance to see Aseas’ ancient ruins with her own eyes. Aseas fell during the height of the Great War, so there was no time for leisurely ruin tourism.
In his younger days, even Fernandez, who was building his career as a ruin explorer, found this architecture, which fully captured Aseas’ golden age, fascinating. His true nature was that of a scholar, and he couldn’t tear his eyes away from this new cultural artifact, becoming engrossed.
And a passionate young man immersed in his field naturally exudes a certain aura unique to that age. At least, that’s what Rene thought as she looked at Fernandez.
“Want to dye your hair?”
“…Dye?”
“Black hair suits you so well. How about it?”
“Not interested.”
“Makeup?”
“Neither useful nor interesting.”
The nobles of the Empire, regardless of gender, would dress up before social gatherings. Beyond just dressing well, dyeing and makeup were considered basic knowledge.
But Fernandez showed no intention of hiding his scarred skin, tired eyes, and graying hair.
Even that was part of his charm, but Rene sighed briefly.
“You’re going to be the Empire’s future national figure, so you’ll have to be the center of social gatherings. It’s quite worrying.”
“I won’t attend social gatherings.”
“Hmm… Wasn’t there a clause in our ‘marriage contract’ about that? Oh, I must have forgotten. I’ll add it.”
“Even if there is, I plan to breach it.”
“Ah, just dance with me.”
“Yo. Dancing together can be fun in its own way, right?”
“Waste of time.”
Fernandez and Rene exchanged such words as they walked up the hall where the night’s curtain stretched long.
Should this be considered a kind of date?
In Rene’s heart, the value of the High Council of Aseas mages was being reassessed.
Rather than wandering around the market alley earlier, this moment is much more romantic, isn’t it? Rene chuckled and lightly placed her hand on Fernandez’s arm.
-Screech.
Then, the sound of the door hinges rubbing was heard. Far at the end of the hall, a wall adorned with purple tapestries opened by itself, revealing a reception room.
“Is that also magic?”
“Basically, from the moment we crossed the tower’s entrance, there hasn’t been anything that isn’t magic.”
Fernandez chuckled and walked ahead.
The Aseas Council is an unknown threat. Why they sought Paltennoia, and how they knew his name from his previous life. Before figuring out such things.
It might have been foolish to suddenly accept an invitation from a powerful group of mages hiding their intentions into their workshop. But Fernandez believed it was worth it. Politically, or personally.
“The insight of a young man is impressive.”
In the reception room stood a man dressed in a thick robe. A long white beard hung from beneath the hood. He looked like a mage straight out of a painting. His splendid robe, adorned with mystical ornaments and embroidery, sparkled under the candlelight.
“It was an interesting time. Thank you for the invitation.”
“And you are… King Carvelier, Your Majesty? Please forgive the sudden invitation. Upon hearing of your direct visit to our grounds, this old man hurriedly arranged things. Please do not blame us.”
“Yes. Thank you for the good show and hospitality, Master.”
“Chuckle, call me Alejandro.”
-Alejandro?
‘Have I heard of him?’
-…At least if it’s not that stupid cousin of ours. Without you, there’s no me. But the voice sounds familiar.
The son of Regent Sernerd and Fernandez’s cousin. Alejandro Sernerd. He was killed by his own hand two years ago. And even if he were alive, it’s common sense that he couldn’t be a mage of the High Council of Aseas.
Listening to Faijashi’s words, Fernandez narrowed his eyes.
Using a pseudonym in front of the Empire’s Elector, especially one who revealed his own name, was a great discourtesy. And before discourtesy, it was a target of caution.
“Take off your hood.”
“Oh?”
“It’s the royal command of His Majesty. I expect the courtesy of an Empire subject.”
“An Empire subject, huh. Haha. The Aseas Council does not belong to the Empire’s territory, does it?”
The mage laughed lightly. Fernandez, sensing the harmless playfulness beneath his laughter, laughed back.
“The Empire’s constitution follows territorial laws. As long as your council resides within the Empire’s territory, it can be punished under Empire law.”
“Who would enforce the punishment?”
“If you knew my identity and invited me, you should know I have judicial authority.”
-Clink.
Fernandez pulled out a chained rosary from his pocket. The mage chuckled and sat down. He cheerfully tapped the sofa armrest and removed his hood.
“My apologies! I’ve been rude to such distinguished guests. Please, sit. I’ll prepare some refreshments.”
“I heard the invitation was sent by the High Council Chairman?”
“Aren’t you facing the person who sent it now?”
The long-bearded old mage grinned and responded to Rene’s words.
“I apologize for my earlier absence. Let me reintroduce myself. This old man holds the overly generous position of Chairman of this council. Ascanio Zupplinburg. I have other names, but if I were to name the most famous one, it would be that, wouldn’t it?”
The old man chuckled and stretched his hand above his head, snapping his fingers. Instantly, a splendid array of refreshments appeared on the previously empty table. As Rene hesitated, the old man grinned.
“Go ahead! It’s not poisoned. Would the High Council use such petty tricks in hospitality?”
Rene, bewildered, sat down following the old man’s gesture.
The reception room was extravagantly splendid. True luxury, like a pearl in mud, subtly shines, and in ordinary cases, it’s called dignity. Just like the aura flowing throughout this reception room.
The reception room, carpeted in purple and crimson, exuded elegance in every minor piece of furniture, crafted by time and dignity. Dustless soft silk on mahogany, gleaming brass candlesticks, white porcelain, and the crimson tea sloshing within.
But Rene and Fernandez still couldn’t hide their suspicious looks. Is it this easy? No matter how much one relies on the prestige of a Duke, there are always procedures to meet a group’s leader. Especially for a group with such a long history.
Fernandez slowly stroked the rim of his teacup and looked at the old man. A strange sense of alienation and a bitter sense of déjà vu were felt simultaneously. It’s not a familiar face. Nor a familiar voice. And he’s from a time before his own era.
Of course, among the heroes, villains, or other outstanding figures of this era, there were those who remained active into the next generation. Like Daryan Schryke, the Empire’s greatest swordsman, Borua, the shield of Ribue, and even Orion, the high priest of the northern changelings.
But such beings, those who once stood out, were all known. The event of the world’s end is like a filter, sifting out the weak. Those who survived that era were all giants who dominated a generation.
“The High Council of Aseas…”
“Hmm?”
Fernandez put down the teacup he was fiddling with and thought. He never forgets a spell once seen. If that’s the case for spells, how much more for people? If he had known someone who held the great position of Grand Chairman in his past life, he couldn’t have forgotten.
“The Twelve.”
“…Hmm.”
A spark seemed to fly between Fernandez and the old man as their intense gazes met. Fernandez slowly sank into the soft sofa. Someone he knew. Someone he had known. But hiding his name and face. A Grand Magician.
“The Eternal Orcis.”
“…Ha!”
A smile appeared on the old man’s lips. He shook his head slightly and bowed for a moment.
-Snap!
The sound of fingers snapping. In that instant, all the lights in the reception room went out, and darkness descended.
“Impressive, Faijashi.”
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