The gentle tapping of fingers on the table echoed through the quiet hall, but no one seed bothered by the noise. The lords were focused on preserving their energy for the eting ahead, akin to military generals plotting their next moves before a battle.
Adorning the room's walls are tapestries illustrating the triumphs and trials of Auronian history. Crafted from the finest oak, the central table stood imposingly. Its surface, gleaming like a mirror from years of polishing. Yet, conspicuously, a sizable hollow marred its otherwise smooth surface, where a projection mana orb had been placed.
There are 16 seats in total, with eleven occupied and two remaining vacant.
At the head of the table were three seats. Calmly sitting on the ornate center seat was none other than the heir of the Auronian throne, Crown Prince Archaen, garbed in elegantly in his royal robe. He wore no crown and other accessories but the red brooch on his tie.
His brows are relaxed, but one could sense an amused glint in his eyes while he glanced at the High Priestess Celeste and his most trusted advisor, Lord Magan.
The priestess indifferently sat at the Crown Prince's right while the Lord Magan, who wore an impatient expression, sat at his left. The older man, wearing expensive robes, tapped on the table while he stared at the door.
Sitting on the left side of the table was a confident woman with pale blue hair and deep eyes. Lady Klara was impeccably dressed as usual, but whenever her gaze fell on the person sitting to her right, she could not help but want to throttle him. Lord Fridal Hyantor only raised a brow at her with a mocking smirk.
'I must have the worst luck imaginable to end up sitting next to a lunatic,' the lord's expression seethed.
'You old fool, brace yourself. I'll make sure your day goes from bad to worse,' Lady Klaria only smiled.
At that mont, the royal chamberlain approached the Crown Prince and whispered sothing in his ears. One could not determine the words exchanged, but Lord Magan already had a vague idea of what was conveyed to the prince.
Prince Archaen grinned and nodded, "Let them in."
Upon hearing his statent, the council mbers sat up attentively in their chairs, swiftly turning towards the imposing orange doors of the regal assembly hall.
Eager anticipation surged as they observed the doors swing open, revealing the awaited duo.
Two pairs of footsteps echoed as the pair entered the hall unhurriedly.
Prince Archaen's eyes curved while he showed a graceful smile. However, fire burned in the depths of his golden gaze when he and his council witnessed the scene before him.
'How bold...'
The couple appeared stunningly attired in a harmonious blend of black and gold, capturing the attention of all who stared at them. Yet amidst the admiring gazes, the focus gravitated towards the illustrious Aphrodite Maeruthan, sought after relentlessly by demons and cherished as the beloved of the kingdom's most influential figure. Their curiosities only heightened.
Moulin, with his hair cascading in a shimring cascade of silvery white, was gathered elegantly into a regal high ponytail, accentuated by tasteful golden adornnts that enhanced his natural allure. His attire, a refined ensemble of dark, noble fabric, bore the distinguished emblem of his lineage, gleaming proudly upon a sapphire brooch.
With a seemingly effortless grace in his movents, he radiated an irresistible magnetism, dispelling any notion of a fragile Aphrodite-like facade previously associated with him.
While being led inside, the High Lord exuded an aura of perfection, mirroring the impeccable appearance of his companion. Their attire harmonized seamlessly, creating a matching ensemble.
Clad in a dark uniform embellished with intricate gold details, he radiated an untouchable and regal aura. The dark cape billowing behind him only added to the grandeur of his presence, creating an image of authority and elegance that captivated those in his vicinity.
Moulin lifted his head and coincidentally t the Crown Prince's eyes. The man observed them intently as though he wanted to devour them whole, bones and all. Perhaps he was insulted that Moulin openly showed his refusal of his gift.
Ignoring his gaze, Moulin only followed Hadrian to his seat. When he was seated, he recognized so familiar faces, including Lord Fermaigne, Lady Klaria, and Prince Vascilicus, who was worried, glancing at him. Moulin did not attempt to lower his head and faced the nobles fearlessly.
Sohow, this didn't look like a trial but a formal eting of the nobilities.
"He doesn't look like those weak aphrodites at all. Perhaps it's just a facade in front of the Princes."
"He's putting on a show."
"But indeed, he is enchanting. An unparallel beaut. The rumors weren't lying."
" I didn't know they were a couple."
Moulin's face did not falter. His determined gaze almost made the nobles shut their mouths in embarrassnt.
The whispers began to lessen when the Crown Prince raised his voice and finally comnced the eting. Introductions were conducted before the room slightly dimd, allowing everyone to witness the faint glow of the mana stone at the center of the ornate table.
He began, "Noble counciln, thank you for gathering on such short notice. As you are well aware, our world faces an imminent threat from the demonic forces seeking to harness the power residing within the rare aphrodite maeruthan, Moulin."
Moulin's eyes twitched at how he was being addressed.
Lord Magan nodded. "Aye, Your Majesty. The demons are relentless, and they grow stronger with each passing day. We must decide his fate swiftly."
When the last word ended, Lord Magan narrowed his eyes at the silver-eyed maeruthan. Moulin furrowed his brows slightly.
"Indeed, " replied Prince Archaen as he rubbed his chin with his thumb. There was a hint of a smile as he glanced at the couple.
"The young lord's fate hangs precariously in the balance. What do you have to say, Moulin, before this assembly? Your possession of a power coveted by demons imperils our realm... Your very existence puts our kingdom at risk."
Many eyes are on him. His heartbeat quickened, but he tried not to show any fear on his face.
Moulin glanced at Hadrian before eting the Crown Prince's gaze with a reply. "Your Majesty, I never asked for this power. But I lived with it as a gift from the gods. I never sought it out, yet I will endure whatever trial may co to protect our kingdom."
A voice interjected, "Your very existence has painted a target upon our lands. Should the demons lay hands upon you, our defenses will crumble like sand before a storm."
This ti, Lord Hyantor spoke. He didn't have the energy to act so formally like the rest of the people in the room. "That is why we must formulate a strategy. Detaining Moulin seems inevitable, yet the question remains: how do we shield him from the claws of our adversaries? Ideas?"
Soone suggested, "Perhaps we could turn the tables on these fiends. The young lord could serve as bait, drawing them forth into the light where we might strike at their heart. Kill their leader and expose their base."
Lady Klaria shook her head. "That's too risky. We can't gamble with the fate of Corhan."
Lord Magan narrowed his eyes. "Then detain him we must, but we cannot ignore the peril his unchecked power poses. We must seal his mana, lest it beco a conduit for our enemies' machinations. "
What? Moulin's expression turned bitter.
"No," the chilling command sliced through the air like a frosty wind, leaving an icy silence in its wake as Lord Hadrian's words finally pierced through. "Stripping him of his magic renders him defenseless. Should they stumble upon even the slightest opening to seize him, it would be child's play."
"Are you defending your lover, High Lord?" Lord Magan spoke with an accusing tone. "Do you know your priorities as a servant to the crown?"
A smirk played at the edge of Prince Archaen's lips. "Magan, now isn't the ti- "
A chilling gaze fell upon Magan, making the old man flinch. Moulin blinked as he observed.
The High Lord's voice rang out, a frosty echo in the room. "Shall we seek clarification, Lord Magan? Who serves whom? Who pulls the strings? Be cautious in your words, lest the crown forfeit a valuable ally."
It was clearly a threat. A frown fell upon the crown prince's face while Lord Magan gritted his teeth and swallowed his embarrassnt.
The lord resud a calm exterior, "..."
"Let us not begin an internal conflict in the court, Lord Magan, " Prince Archaen cleared his throat. He smiled to his audience, "Then what does the lord suggest? I'm sure you are more knowledgeable about the young lord than any of us within the room."
Hadrian's voice cut through the air, icy and devoid of emotion, yet resonating with authority. "If the young lord's abilities are destined to be wielded against the living and all that is sacred, then why should we not harness them to combat the demonic forces that covet such power?"
His golden eyes glead icily, "After all, why let such talent go to waste when it can serve a purpose in the relentless battle against forces that threaten our existence."
Moulin turned to him with confused eyes. What is he doing?
While the others considered his words, Moulin caught Hadrian's aningful glance.
To retreat into obscurity or to defiantly surge forth in battle...
In the end, war was inevitable.
Moulin averted his gaze. He felt his heartbeat quicken, and a strange feeling of confidence and defiance surged inside him.
...
Maybe he could help...
"Use him?" Prince Vascilicus muttered thoughtfully. His brain started working, contemplating about the possibilities.
"Truly? We are not considering putting him on the battlefield, are we? The demons have already claid a portion of his mana, making him easily identifiable on the battlefield."
Lord Magan raised his voice, "Exactly. To avoid tracking him, we must detain him and seal his-"
"Your Highness..." Moulin spoke up.
In an instant, everyone's attention fell heavily upon him. Prince Archaen raised his brows. Moulin steeled himself and continued, "I understand the risks, but I won't be a pawn in their ga. I can fight, and with my power, I can aid our forces."
"Young lord, you must understand. We cannot allow you to join the battlefield."
"He doesn't need to fight on the battlefield." Lord Hadrian spoke.
"...?"
Moulin nodded. Determination filled his bright silver eyes. "Detain , but allow to keep my magic. I can use it to grow stronger and aid in the defense against the demons. I can be an asset to our military."
"Your power?" Prince Archaen furrowed his brows.
Before the prince could question further, soone interrupted him.
"I would like to speak." Suddenly, a loud voice interrupted.
Every single gaze turned to Prince Vascilicus, who had stood up from his seat, looking as though he had made a brilliant discovery.
"Brother?"
Realizing his impudence, the younger prince cleared his throat, "Ah, forgive my rudeness. But I would like to share with you all my findings of my research in Helios. I assure you it will be helpful."
For a brief mont, Prince Vascilicus cast a guilty look at Moulin before working to link sothing to the orb at the center of the table. A crease appeared between Moulin's brows.
"..." He wondered what Vascilicus was planning. He still doubted the prince's side of the argunt...
Suddenly, he felt a gaze upon him. Moulin already knew who was intently staring at him. The Crown Prince's gaze upon him was scorching, as though he could feel it penetrate his skin.
Moulin decided to pretend not to notice the gaze and focus his attention on the younger prince.
He was oblivious to how the Hadrian at his side glanced at him before casting a threatening stare at the royal prince. Prince Archaen did not look away and held his gaze.
A storm was already brewing between them.
There is a brief silence when light is projected from the orb.
Not long after, tiny glowing dust-like particles fluttered from the orb, forming large circles. The are dense and beautifully blinding. The scene had a hint of blue from the mana pulsing from the orb energetically. The glow was very bright, holding a significant amount of mana. All present observed with curiosity, except for Lady Klaria, whose gaze narrowed suspiciously upon the younger prince.
Prince Vascilicus cleared his throat and explained, "This is the intensified, concentrated essence of the young lord's mana, obtained from the White Forest, which the young lords established to safeguard the borders of Helios City. During my stay, I have studied the reasons behind why it has kept malibreeds from crossing the forest."
Archaen weaved his fingers together on the table and leaned back. "Hmm..."
"Allow to show you a normal maeruthan's concentrate mana." The prince calmly gestured, controlling the projection to display a different image without any visible emotion.
This ti, the glowing orbs were much smaller, less dense, and dimr. Anyone could determine the significant difference between the two images.
Sohow Moulin was getting interested.
Noticing the reactions of the council, Prince Vascilicus continued. "Surely, everyone can determine the contrast, correct? Allow to present another concentrated form. This instance isn't sourced from a specific ethnicity like Maeruthan or any other, but originates directly from the heart of the Temple of Naithalauna.
The inner sanctum, blessed by the Goddess, has imparted a subtle mana essence to the sacred items I've obtained..."
This ti, Lady Celeste, who had been silent throughout the eting, showed a wrathful expression towards the younger prince's words. Her temple?!
The image hurriedly materialized to reveal large glowing spheres shining in blinding brilliance. All of a sudden, everyone took a mont to stare at it.
Naithalauna's blessing, imbued with divine mana. Its celestial appearance matched their expectations...
Yet, oddly enough.... It didn't look different from the young lord's...
The prince didn't stop there and proceeded to put the images side by side. Even the slightest difference should be visible to everyone's eyes.
Nonetheless, no matter how much they looked at it, the resemblance was uncanny.
"..."
It's not possible...
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