Chapter 29: The Round Table Council (Please continue reading)

Rainy night, defeat, knight.

Fernando fled in a panic, sprinting a full eight blocks before he dared to muster the courage to look behind him. There was no sign of the demon in the curtain of rain, and his suspended heart eased slightly.

The sound of rain hammering against the cobblestones grew louder, as if sympathizing with the knight's terrible plight. But just then, a light chuckle reached Fernando's ears.

"Hmph♪, that little fellow is as cunning as ever, always trying to hide in the back, never wanting to take any responsibility~"

Who?!

Transformed into a little girl by Ron, Fernando looked around in astonishment. He saw that within a five-meter radius around him, clusters of pale blue flames had appeared out of nowhere. These flames were completely unaffected by the rain; instead, they "ignited" the raindrops and froze the damp air.

Suddenly, the pale blue flames surged, engulfing the rain and the girl with scorched-yellow hair within a ten-meter radius. At that moment, Fernando felt a chill freeze his internal organs, and his skin burned with a pain like a thousand cuts. His body was frozen stiff, unable to move, and he could not even let out a scream.

The pale blue flames seemed to be composed of a special kind of magic; they lacked the high heat of conventional fire, yet they could reduce metal and stone to powder.

*Crack!*

A crisp sound seemed to echo in the void. The yellow-haired girl’s figure suddenly shattered into starlight, and a figure over two meters tall emerged from the spot. As soon as Fernando’s body returned to normal, his legs bent forward in a gruesome, unnatural angle.

*Snap—*

"Ah!!!"

Pale bone spurs instantly pierced through his skin, forcing a miserable howl from his throat.

"Fernando Upton, do you remember that Helint’s mother was tortured to death by you in exactly this way?"

"She told me to say hello to you~"

The mysterious voice was soft, yet it drilled clearly into the knight’s ears. Waves of intense pain and lingering panic eroded Fernando's nerves and mind, leaving him lying on the ground, flailing his arms wildly. As his body twisted, his peripheral vision caught a silhouette atop a clock tower.

It was a woman wearing a white wide-brimmed hat adorned with black flowers. Her graceful figure was wrapped in a pristine white dress, and her hands were covered in matching lace gloves. She exuded a languid air, resting her chin on her hand. Her blue eyes, reflecting the flickers of pale blue flame, held a hint of violet as she looked down at the struggling Fernando with a mocking curve at the corners of her mouth.

The witch!

The Pale Blue Witch!

The leader of the rebels!

Fernando’s breath hitched, the muscles in his face twisting and trembling uncontrollably. He had never imagined that while on a mission to hunt down the witch, he would actually encounter her. Although no one had ever seen the true face of this terrifying witch, no one else’s temperament could fit the name so perfectly.

"I am not a virgin!" the knight gritted his teeth, struggling to force the words out. Apparently, he had heard some strange rumors.

Hearing this, the witch was silent for a moment, then chuckled:

"Hmph♪, the Church and the Royal Family truly stop at nothing to smear me. Who would have thought that those who preach morality and righteousness would invent such ridiculous rumors?"

"Backward, ignorant, insane, unreasonable..."

As she spoke, the witch’s charming eyes turned toward the knight, who seemed on the verge of breaking. "Now, I ask, you answer."

"Six years ago, on the day the old capital fell, what role did your family play?"

The witch’s voice was like a pool of spring water, carrying a mature, irresistible allure that lulled one into letting down their guard. Fernando’s eyes grew dull, and he repeated a single phrase.

"I, I don't know! I don't know!"

Facing this answer, the witch did not feel disappointed; she had only asked in passing. If the answer had been so easily extracted, it would certainly have been a trap set for her.

"Alright, don't be so nervous. You aren't getting out of here anyway."

"Why not satisfy my curiosity before you die, hm♪?"

The witch chuckled, ignoring the knight’s painful pleas, and asked in a seductive tone:

"Tell me, you people have done so many evil things—stealing others' wives, murdering their husbands, seizing their family estates."

"Even the Church turns a blind eye, letting all the suffering in the world continue while you live in a facade of prosperity."

"I have always had a question I wanted to ask people like you..."

As she spoke, the witch frowned slightly, as if considering how to concisely state her question. Suddenly, as if she had thought of something, a smile curled on her lips.

"Aren't you afraid of retribution for doing all this?"

—

Inside a hall filled with murals of countless myths and epics, a black-haired woman in high-heeled boots rushed forward at great speed. She had received news this morning that the Pale Blue Witch had appeared last night and taken out a heroic Templar Knight. This had cost Olivia her breakfast.

She wasn't interested in whether the Templar was heroic; the only thing she cared about was that witch!

"Lord Olivia, the Pope and His Majesty the King have been waiting for a long time."

The ancient stone doors, nearly ten meters high and clearly not of this era, were slowly pushed open by guards. Olivia strode inside, scanning the dilapidated council chamber, which was starkly different from the outside world. The space was not large, containing only a round table and seven matching seats. However, three of them were covered in a thick layer of dust.

"No need to wait for the others. The fellows from the Institute of Enlightenment sailed overseas three years ago to find other continents, and no word has come back since."

"The legends of the capital are down to just us three."

The speaker was an old man wearing a triple tiara and papal vestments.

Hearing this, Olivia showed no emotion. She violently pulled out a stone chair, sat down, and habitually crossed her legs. Seeing this, the old man’s eyebrows knit together involuntarily, and he snorted coldly:

"Olivia, I think you should show some respect to His Majesty the King..."

"Shut up, you old geezer. I didn't come here to listen to your nagging!"

Before the Pope could finish, Olivia interrupted him sharply, then turned her gaze to the other person in the room.

"Your Majesty the King, I only want to know where that witch is hiding!"

Seeing this, the tall, crown-wearing Kaden Reinhardt III felt a dull ache in his head. The Council of Seven was originally formed 1,369 years ago when the first king, Reinhardt, united with six legends to form a powerful alliance to deal with the Apocalypse—the origin of which was unknown—and the sudden isolation from other continents.

But by the time it reached him...

The alliance of seven powerful figures was down to four, and one of them had gone to sea three years ago. That might have been fine; after more than a thousand years, changes were inevitable compared to the time of the first king. But what he couldn't accept was that every time they held a meeting, it was nothing but a war of words. It made the King feel a strange sense of shame toward his ancestors.

"Olivia, the witch is not the point, and that is not why I called this council."

"You should know that my eldest daughter has reached adulthood, but recently..."

Hearing this, Olivia’s face twitched slightly.

*A foolish ruler!*

The witch is at your doorstep, and you're thinking about finding a suitor for your daughter!?

She was about to lash out when the King changed his tone.

"It's just that recently... she has gone missing!"

"You should know that the ancestors of Heinlet stepped out of the 'Sanctum,' and the golden blood within them holds the secret to controlling the 'Sanctum.'"

"Both the rebels and the cultists of the Evil Gods have long coveted this golden blood, hoping to obtain this power to overthrow this long-standing kingdom."

After speaking, Kaden III swept his deep gaze over the other two council members and said sternly:

"Regardless, we must prevent this from happening."

The atmosphere in the council chamber suddenly turned serious. Everyone’s expressions were grave; they clearly realized the severity of the situation. Ordinarily, the disappearance of a princess would not be brought up in such a setting, but as luck would have it, the leader of the rebels had appeared in the capital last night.

In this heavy atmosphere, Olivia looked at Kaden III and muttered softly:

"The Oran Kingdom has rebels and cultists—shouldn't you look for the reasons within yourself?"

"Is it that the King isn't working hard enough, or have you been slacking off while governing the state affairs..."

Who taught you to talk like that?