William walked toward the office with his hands tucked casually into his pockets.
The Professor had refused to give him any details. After asking twice, William had simply shrugged and stopped pressing the matter.
He had a faint suspicion that this might be related to his sudden exclusion from the training program. But that did not fully make sense. The issue involved the Great Hall, not the Capital.
"Ah..."
Then it clicked.
Brutus.
And his mother.
Brutus was a foreign exchange student, publicly presented as the first link between the two lands. A symbol of diplomacy.
Whatever had happened inside that church had forced those esteed guests to return abruptly to their holand.
And that alone would be enough to make the Southern ruler deeply displeased.
William sighed inwardly.
’As expected. Those snorty ministers couldn’t stay quiet.’
At least Emma was not involved. She had looked exhausted during lunch. It was better she stayed out of this ss.
When they reached the Headmaster’s office, Ghast paused and glanced at him.
"Go ahead."
William humd and gave a small shrug.
He knocked lightly before stepping inside.
The mont he entered, his brows lifted slightly.
The room was crowded.
To the left sat three individuals bearing the insignia of the Great Hall on their chests. Their posture was rigid, expressions unreadable.
To the right sat a lean man with a composed yet authoritative presence. His attire was elegant, his deanor dignified. Two armored soldiers stood behind him, one on each side, unmoving.
The Headmaster sat directly opposite the door. His grave expression alone revealed how little he was enjoying this situation.
William exhaled quietly and offered a polite smile.
"Well," he said calmly, "to what do I owe the honor of hosting so many distinguished guests?"
The first to speak was the Headmaster.
"This gentleman is the Chief Strategist of our nation, William. Show proper respect."
William rolled his eyes faintly before replying, "What do you need?"
Before the strategist could answer, the woman from the Great Hall stepped forward.
"William Delimore, I am Kaira, representing the Great Hall. I am here to congratulate you on achieving the highest score in the training program. For your contribution to society, the Great Hall sends its regards and a modest reward."
As she finished speaking, the two officials behind her stood and brought forward a large treasure chest.
Now that caught William’s attention.
He crouched down and lifted the lid.
Inside were several high grade potions, a finely crafted weapon, and multiple pouches filled with gold coins.
There was also a sealed letter.
But his gaze lingered on the gold.
Sweet.
He closed the lid and stood up with a grin. "I was expecting more, but this will do."
Kaira gave a polite nod. "I understand your disappointnt. I will relay your sentint to the headquarters."
William did not bother correcting her interpretation.
Instead, he turned his attention to the older man who had remained silent all this ti.
"And you, sir," William said calmly, "what do you need from ?"
The man adjusted the monocle over one eye and leaned back in his chair. "I would appreciate so privacy, Headmaster."
The Headmaster’s jaw tightened, but he stood up nonetheless.
The Great Hall representatives bowed once to William before exiting the room.
Now only four remained.
William took a seat across from the strategist, resting his left arm casually along the backrest.
"So," he said evenly, "what is it?"
The man inclined his head slightly. "My na is Nolekrine Rowman. I serve as Chief Strategist in the royal court. I have co with a request."
William had heard of him before. From his father. From court rumors.
Nolekrine Rowman.
The Ageless Fox.
A man whose mind seed to sharpen rather than dull with ti. He had served the Capital longer than William had even existed.
Cunning. Calculated. Dangerous.
But reputation did not impress William.
He leaned forward slightly.
"What do you need from ?" he repeated.
It had to be the fifth ti he had asked since entering the office.
The strategist finally spoke plainly.
"I ca with a proposal. A negotiation. In exchange for your knowledge, we will clear your na of the accusation that you created a rift between two ruling nations."
William’s brows drew together. "Accusation?"
Rowman nodded calmly. "We have received a formal complaint from the Cathedral. They claim that you defiled their sacred grounds by engaging in immoral conduct within the church walls. Every nation respects the authority of its Cathedral. If this matter escalates, the alliance between our lands may fracture."
William’s eyes turned cold.
The two soldiers behind Rowman subtly shifted their stance, hands hovering near their weapons.
Rowman, however, did not move.
"You think I would feel threatened by that?" William asked evenly.
For a mont, Rowman simply observed him.
He had heard of William’s recent exploits. His accomplishnts. His temperant.
But even without the rumors, those eyes were enough.
The sa presence.
The sa pressure.
Count Delimore’s son.
There was a similarity in their aura. The father smirked when angered.
The son grew quiet.
Rowman exhaled slowly and removed his monocle.
"That was the approach I proposed to my lord," he admitted. "We believed pressure might move you."
He placed the monocle on the desk.
"We were mistaken."
His voice remained composed.
"The truth is, we are in a difficult position. Several regions have been contaminated by Death Sinks. Clearing them has proven costly and slow."
His gaze sharpened slightly.
"And you, William, possess a thod that could accelerate that process."
William had expected this.
Emma had warned him.
He had lied once, claiming he possessed a thod to draw ranked devils out of hiding so that Death Sinks would collapse far sooner than normal.
And now the rumor had spread.
The court must have realized by now that the Cathedral alone could not perform such a feat.
It pointed back to him.
Emma had predicted this.
And she had been right.
William let out a short chuckle. "So you intend to pressure politically? Good luck. I don’t particularly care about your alliance."
What would they do next? Drag his father into this?
He almost scoffed at the thought. His old man would not bend to political intimidation, nor would he force William into sothing against his will.
Rowman humd thoughtfully. "I anticipated that response. Which is why I will not pursue that thod."
William tilted his head slightly. "Are you certain? You just admitted you’re desperate."
"I am," Rowman replied calmly. "Two borders of our nation are under severe assault. If we fail to contain the situation within days, countless civilians will suffer."
He folded his hands neatly.
"The northern front concerns us most. Major trade routes originate there. Several influential societies are also situated along that side."
William had recently heard about the northern situation from Vitori.
The Royal Legion under Commander Dawntress had been deployed there.
That alone spoke volus about the severity of the crisis.
After a brief pause, William finally asked, in a calr voice, "So? How are you going to convince ?"
Rowman waved his hand and a parchnt ford between them, glowing violet.
"We form a contract."
°°°°°°°°
A/N:- Thanks for reading.
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