Weary faces surrounded the ornate table. The tension made the air thicken, heavy with silent sches and tumultuous thoughts. The lords of the council sat deep in mutters and mumbles like troubled students in a lecture. Several vacant seats indicated the absences of may prominent n and won. No one could bla them. The terrifying news pouring out from the distant bases had already shaken them. As leaders, they carried the lives of their followers and bore the weight of every loss and damage, no matter how small they may be.
Lord Fridal glanced at the empty seat beside him where Lady Klaria of Ralor had once glanced at him with annoyance. His eyes deepened in thought. Ralor has taken a terrible hit from the demonic raids and she left to defend her territory. He couldn't help but be concerned. But, of course, he didn't miss that blabbering mouth of hers. Lord Fridal grimaced. Nope... Not one... bit.
Lady Celeste glanced at Lord Fridal from her seat beside the Crown Prince Archaen. The man wore a faint smile on his lips as he read over the few pieces of parchnt laid before him. He looked quite unbothered for soone looking to put pressure on their accused today. Concern transford her delicate face as he shifted her gaze away, accidentally looking towards Lord Hadrian Hercullio. She stiffened.
Despite the golden lord's cold expression, he looked gracefully divine, carrying an oppressive aura that aid to silence those who had cast aningful glances toward him. Lady Celeste wasn't spared, quickly withdrawing her gaze. Her heart pounded.
All of a sudden, the light flickered in the place at the hollowed center of the U-shaped table, instantly attracting the attention of every single person within the hall. Mana accumulated, materializing into flakes of glowing energy to gradually piece a slender figure. In less than a few seconds, the council was welcod with the sight of a beauteous young man with silver pupils. The Lynari, Moulin Sill Fraunces.
Because of the glow of the hologram, it made him appear even more ethereal like a true deity that had descended from the heavens to confront them. Only it was them who forcibly summoned Moulin.
Moulin stood before them with luminous silver eyes, looking a bit dreary and dressed too plainly. He looked as though he had gone through sothing that instantly had taken the life from his body, leaving him cold and bothered. Unhappy. The lack of sleep certainly wasn't helping him well.
Moulin scanned the room, briefly eting Hadrian's eyes, who appeared a bit surprised by how the youth had boldly presented himself. Hadrian inwardly sighed. It seems his little doll didn't have the patience to keep this eting long.
Lord Magan was the first to break the silence. Already wrathful from the countless problems he had been bombarded with this week, he wasn't one to stay calm, even before the two princes.
"The act of harnessing tainted magic goes against the law of our lands. it brings death as its ultimate punishnt!" Lord Magan announced in contempt. "Remarkably, the Lynari uses corrupted enemy magic to create pure energy despite blasphemy accusations against this act."
Murmurs filled the hall as the crown prince's gaze clashed with Moulin's calm ones.
"That energy... Vile, unsatiable, malicious! Demonic energy!" Lord Magan clenched his jaw. "You claim to save the world while destroying relics with demonic energy that we dedicate our lives to eradicating."
Moulin didn't flinch from the loudness of his voice and the depth of his words. He only took a breath and spoke.
"It was purification." He spoke in a tone so calm. "Not corruption."
"Twisting our words! You really have no sha." He spat, shaking his head. "This act is abominable! Unnatural! Claiming to be divine when you collude with the tainted arts."
"Unnatural?" Moulin narrowed his eyes. His voice is as chilling as the terrible blizzards of the north. It hid a hint of amusent. "Why do you look so troubled when it was all of you who yearned for a miracle? Currently, Corhan is as unnatural as it could be. The world you once knew... is gone."
"Mind your words, boy." Lord Magan narrowed his eyes in warning. "You currently face a treasonous charge at this very mont. Can a wizard who performs dark spells have any role in determining the destiny of this land?"
The accusation spread across the council and strengthened other mbers of the body. The words transford into brutal weapons that Moulin faced as defenders of attack.
"You think you are above the law?"
"Were all your relics a product of malice?"
"Your original goal seems clear because you disguised poison as a path to salvation."
The accusations grew in intensity, but Moulin remained standing still and refused to play their ga. He rely listened.
In the next mont, he smiled, startling the noble bodies.
His voice was gentle while he uttered, "How bold" in the enormous chamber. "Stating accusing treason without proof in these circumstances is truly bold. Let remind you that the person who provides you with hope, you have chosen to target and condemn."
He raised his silver eyes once more. His words seed to thunder, striking them on the spot. "You are free to question . To challenge . But don't mistake my patience for powerlessness."
Silenced cut through the hall. The threat was vague, but even Lord Magan looked at him apprehensively. This ti, Prince Archaen shed a smile on his face.
Moulin wasn't afraid to continue. "I shall give you complete understanding if you are so afraid of the unknown reality. Your attempts at blocking my path will lead you towards your destruction. So, do you dare stop ?"
Unlike the previous minute, silence had completely filled the entire chamber.
Every person in the room sensed the hidden threat in his statent.
At last the Crown Prince took a breath while focusing his unyielding golden eyes on Moulin. His fingers stopped their continuous movent.
Prince Archaen announced to Moulin, "Let us be at ease. Moulin, you shall have the opportunity to demonstrate your approaches. Any successful results will close down this matter permanently."
His eyes shifted toward the council mbers gathered in front of him. "But you shall bear the consequences once they show even a hint of corruption."
"Your majesty, If it pleases you. Then I shall comply." Moulin spoke. "But I have already proven them true. The expedition I have sent to acquire the vital core of my relics has all worn and used my artifacts. They have already returned. If it brings ALL of you... comfort, question them. Help spread the word."
Prince Archaen and Lord Magan exchanged gazes. Amidst the mumbles, a clear voice spoke, silencing them once more.
Lady Celeste lifted her gaze. Her soft voice seed to echo. "The young master speaks the truth. The Lynari's path is an unclear route. I have seen his work. I will stand by him."
Surprised by her sudden decision, the lords speechlessly stared at her.
At that mont, Lord Fridal did not refrain from laughing as he sat forward. "My business involves both promises and worth. If Moulin's artifacts are the work of a devil, then so are the jewels on your bodies."
Nuclear green eyes brightened. Prince Vascilicus, who had remained silent, turned to his brother. "Every enchantnt exists independently from notions of goodness and wickedness. People decide what significance it carries because they are the only ones capable of manipulating its use. My fascination grows about the accomplishnts of the young master."
The prince then turned to face Moulin's expressionless countenance. "This man is a being sent from the heavens as the key to ending this demonic plague. At these dreadful tis... there is little we can do as mortals against divine poison."
Heavy silence crept over the room as it absorbed all available air. The young master seed confident enough... Why are we fighting against him?
The target of all those words stood, scanning his weary, silvery eyes throughout the room. Honestly, did they have more to say against him? When will this finish?
As though hearing his prayers, a heavy aura settled all over the room.
Lord Hadrian Hercullio seed unbothered. Garbed in black and gold garnts while looking over the gathering royals with deep eyes. Hadrian let the room bask in his silence while he imposed a feeling comparable to being sentenced to death.
A brief humming sound erged from his lips with a slight smile. His head moved slightly. "Bold... All of you speak with such confidence as if you have the ability can stand against him."
His words made the lords stiffen. The weight of his words settled over them. Moulin wasn't alone. This ti, he relished in the strength of his support.
Lord Magan fell back, half-confused. However, truly, he pondered to himself. "..."
"It seems all have spoken their piece." Prince Archaen frowned, raising his gaze toward the silver-haired youth. "The n will be questioned after the necessary ceremonies. And the mage wing will submit their findings and presentations. Now, I ask this to you..."
Moulin t his gaze without a hint of hesitation. The crown prince smiled. "Will you swear to prioritize the people and end the Kron?"
The young man faced the people before him. Determination burned in his eyes, a fire so bright nothing could quench it. "I swear it. But I cannot do it alone. I am not so invincible weapon against it. We face a common enemy, and if we wish to prevail, I require your trust."
The nobles briefly fell into their thoughts. A sense of calmness now sweeping the room.
Hadrian shifted his gaze, eting Moulin's weary eyes. For a short mont, he saw the youth's gaze soften tiredly. The scene caused Hadrian's brows to furrow.
"Your intentions are pure."
Moulin drew his attention back towards Prince Archaen, who revealed a knowing smile as he continued. "You shall have it, Lynari."
.....
Once, the energy projection dissipated around Moulin. The youth sighed, falling on his behind onto the wooden floor of the library. He let himself lie listlessly. Long, curly strands spread beneath him like a halo of light. His eyes tirelessly closed like a nymph, basking underneath the moon.
"Young master... you must rest. The floor is cold."
Moulin heard Ordan's deep voice from afar, but he was too tired to look. "Do you know even gods can feel the cold?"
"...?" Ordan tilted his head in confusion.
"He told to rest." Moulin's voice grew deeper, mumbling almost incoherently. "I... I told him I didn't have the ti... Is it my fault that I have to work so hard?... Then he said that my body... If it weren't for him-... that little..."
Suddenly, Lady Calanthe interrupted, approaching Moulin and trying to support him off the ground. "Alright... alright... there we go..."
Confused, Ordan hurriedly helped the sorceress bring Moulin to his room. The instant Moulin felt the bed; he youth fell into a deep sleep. Snow, who had calmly followed his master, jumped on top of the mattress and made himself comfortable beside the youth. Both fox and man snuggled against each other, falling asleep.
Lady Calanthe shook her head with a sigh. "He's lost too much energy. Be a dear and summon His Excellency, Lord Hadrian..."
Ordan furrowed his brows, nodding silently. His gaze fell upon the slumbering young man on the bed.
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