[Seven Days Later]
The council chamber stood beneath a vaulted ceiling supported by towering marble pillars engraved with the history of the kingdom.
Sunlight stread through stained-glass windows, painting patches of crimson, gold, and sapphire across the polished stone floor.
Normally, such a hall inspired awe.
Today, it felt more like a courtroom.
A large round table occupied the center of the chamber. Gathered around it were individuals whose words could mobilize armies, alter national policies, and decide the fate of entire provinces.
With one exception.
Kevin sat among them, noticeably lacking the influence possessed by the others.
At the head of the gathering sat the King himself.
To his imdiate side was Arthur, while the King’s personal advisor and the Pri Minister occupied the seats nearby. On Arthur’s left sat Lancelot and rlin, his companions during the recent operation and two of the most influential figures within the Great Hall.
Across from them sat the Commander of the Royal Legion, his broad fra filling the chair. Beside him was the Emissary of Light; Kevin who occupied the next seat, and to his right sat two n whose presence alone had shaped the course of the last several months.
Duke Valebridge.
And the Chief Advisor.
Other than them a few of the council mbers were present as well.
However, of everyone present, these two had pushed the hardest for action against Count Carter Delimore.
Both n had consistently argued that the Count represented a threat comparable to the forces gathering beyond humanity’s borders.
Perhaps even greater.
Again and again, they had directed the council’s attention toward him, dismantling opposition through relentless argunts and political pressure.
Their conviction had eventually culminated in the formation of the strike force led by Arthur and Astaroth.
The Great Hall had only agreed to participate because Arthur insisted on questioning William regarding his knowledge of the Other Side.
In the end, however, both parties had found their interests aligned.
And so the operation had proceeded.
Now, seven days after the disastrous raid, the sa individuals had gathered once more.
The atmosphere was heavy.
Accusatory.
Every gaze around the table carried a question.
And it was Duke Valebridge who shattered that silence first.
"This is unacceptable."
His voice echoed through the chamber, sharp enough to draw everyone’s attention imdiately.
"The finest strike force humanity could assemble was defeated by a single individual."
His hands pressed against the table.
"How is that even possible?"
No one answered.
The Duke’s eyes swept across Arthur, rlin, and Lancelot.
"The operation was planned ticulously. The target was isolated and not expecting us. The nurical advantage was overwhelming. Yet sohow, the result was complete failure."
The Chief Advisor nodded in agreent.
His expression was colder than the Duke’s, but no less hostile.
"Setting aside the fact that even the Commander of the Royal Legion was rendered unconscious by a re youth..."
The contempt in his voice was barely restrained.
"...the three individuals who remained standing were the Pri Seats of the Great Hall itself."
His gaze settled firmly upon them.
"That raises a rather difficult question."
The room grew quieter, now focused on the three.
"If the three strongest representatives present on that battlefield were still capable of fighting, why was the operation abandoned?"
A faint crease appeared on Arthur’s brow.
The Chief Advisor continued before anyone could answer.
"You are not ordinary warriors."
"You are legends."
"Individuals entrusted with humanity’s survival."
"Yet despite possessing overwhelming experience, superior numbers, and every strategic advantage, you withdrew from the battlefield without obtaining a single aningful answer."
Duke Valebridge imdiately seized upon the point.
"Exactly."
He leaned forward.
"Even a Devil General would struggle to force all of you into such a position."
His fingers drumd against the tabletop.
"Yes, William has defeated a General before. We are all aware of that."
His voice carried unmistakable skepticism.
"But at the end of the day, he is still a young man."
Narrowing his eyes, he added, "A dangerous one, certainly. An unpredictable one, perhaps."
"But ntally? Emotionally? He is still little more than a boy."
The accusation hung in the air.
"Are you seriously asking this council to believe that three Pri Seats of the Great Hall were unable to extract even a fragnt of information from him?"
Silence followed.
Not the silence of uncertainty.
The silence of judgnt.
The first person to respond was rlin.
Her voice was calm, carrying none of the defensiveness everyone had expected.
"Duke Valebridge," she began, folding her hands atop the table, "may I ask about your encounter with the Ranked Devil that defeated you during your pri?"
The Duke’s eyes narrowed imdiately.
A few mbers around the table exchanged glances.
The question had struck a nerve.
"Are you attempting to divert the discussion," he scoffed, "or simply searching for excuses to justify your failure?"
rlin remained completely unfazed.
"I am trying to help you understand what we experienced that day."
She slowly raised a hand and gestured toward Arthur.
"This man possesses firsthand experience fighting General-ranked Devils."
Her gaze swept across the chamber.
"And at his current level of strength, he could challenge one more effectively than anyone present in this room."
No one disputed her statent.
It was a fact so obvious that arguing against it would have made them appear foolish.
Arthur’s reputation had long surpassed politics and personal opinions.
It had beco reality.
rlin allowed the silence to settle before asking her next question.
"Then tell ."
Her voice softened.
"How many of you believe Arthur would willingly surrender before a General-ranked Devil?"
Again, silence answered her.
Not a single voice spoke.
Because Arthur was more than a renowned warrior.
His na had beco a symbol. A pillar upon which humanity rested its faith. Children grew up hearing stories about him. Soldiers marched into battle knowing he stood sowhere on the frontlines.
The notion of Arthur kneeling before an enemy sounded absurd.
Impossible.
rlin’s lips curved into a faint smile.
There was no amusent in it. Only self-mockery.
"When I lost consciousness that day..."
The room instinctively leaned in.
"...the last thing I saw was Arthur."
Her gaze shifted toward the knight seated beside the King.
"He was on his knees."
The chamber froze.
rlin continued.
"His sword was gone."
"His head was bowed."
"And he could no longer stand."
The silence stretched just to draw a long breath before it shattered.
"Such insolence!"
Duke Valebridge surged halfway out of his chair.
His face had reddened with outrage.
"Lady rlin, have you lost your senses?!"
The Chief Advisor imdiately followed. His voice carried a sharp warning.
"Be mindful of your words."
His gaze flickered toward Arthur before returning to her.
"You cannot simply sit here and disrespect Sir Arthur in front of the council."
rlin scoffed. But before she could speak, "She is telling the truth." Arthur interrupted, "If anything rlin had been very respectful with her words."
Arthur looked up and matched his gaze with the Duke before announcing.
"I...was humiliated. I was shown the difference between us and him before I surrendered. And the only reason why we are sitting here isn’t because we escaped. It’s because he let us go."
The words hung heavy in the room.
Suddenly, the assumption, the accusations...all faded.
And what was left behind was an emotion.
Fear.
The council mbers exchanged glances
The Duke glanced at his ally, the Chief Advisor as to what to say since none of them expected Arthur to co out and say sothing so outrageous.
Just then, silencing all the thoughts, a voice echoed vividly through the hall.
[Ah, it’s been so long seeing you all. Missed ~]
There was no doubt about it.
The voice that still haunts Arthur.
It was William.
°°°°°°°
A/N:- Thanks for reading.
If you don’t understand why thr Duke is being so dramatic then rember, he is the Duke of the east, the only Duke who held less authority than the count, and the Count is, naturally, Carter.
And also, he is Gizel’s father, if you may not rember.
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