Archmage Graham sternly ordered everyone present not to disclose a single word of the discovery. With a grim face, he quickly left the noisy archives and returned alone to the hall on the top floor of the Mage Tower, accessible only to mbers of the High Council.
The other five Archmages sat rigidly in the hall. The atmosphere was suffocating. Seeing Graham return alone, their expressions showing no relief, they had already guessed part of the news.
“It has been verified,” Graham said, sitting down in his seat, his voice dry.
He gently placed the copy of the file retrieved from the archives on the center of the round table.
“The scroll’s code is AX-734. It is indeed a Fireball Scroll manufactured by our High-Level Mage Corps.”
He paused, his gaze sweeping over everyone present.
“The recipient was High-Level Tutor, Eldridge.”
Hearing his words, the other five Archmages fell into a prolonged silence.
The hall was frighteningly quiet. Only the monotonous ‘tick-tock’ of a massive ancient clock pendulum struck, echoing in everyone’s heart.
The situation was now clear.
A spell scroll belonging to the High-Level Mage Corps was formally checked out by High-Level Tutor Eldridge.
The last known location was Seville in the Kingdom of Aragon.
But now, a fragnt of that scroll had appeared in Sarajevo, implicated in the assassination of Archduke Ferdinand.
The connection was chilling.
“I am preparing to make a final confirmation,” Graham broke the oppressive silence, his voice sounding hoarse.
“To see if any useful information can be obtained from the surviving Mage.”
The other five had no objection, only nodding silently.
At this point, not a single clue could be overlooked.
After leaving the Council Hall, Graham quickly arrived at the room where the surviving Mage was housed.
The room was filled with a faint calming scent.
After being treated by an Enchantnt School Mage, the surviving High-Level Mage’s emotions had stabilized.
He sat by the bed, staring blankly out the window, as if the terrifying experience had drained all his spirit.
Even after his emotions stabilized, the surviving High-Level Mage still chose to re-specialize into the Abjuration School.
Despite the cost of having to take a special potion, losing all his power, and starting from scratch…
For a forr spellcaster, this was equivalent to a rebirth, requiring imnse courage.
Graham first gently reassured him, asking about his current condition.
After receiving a positive reply, the Archmage slowly broached the main topic.
“My child, I have a few questions for you today, concerning High-Level Tutor Eldridge.”
Upon hearing the na, the surviving High-Level Mage’s body visibly trembled, becoming tense again.
But he was much better than when they first t. At least he didn’t collapse on the spot.
He told Graham that the hellish experience made him reluctant to recall anything, even things related to Tutor Eldridge.
He could only answer to the best of his ability.
Graham told him to relax, his voice becoming gentler.
He assured him that the questions he needed to ask would not be too distressing.
He then asked whether the Mage knew how the spell scrolls Eldridge had requisitioned were used.
“Especially the Fireball Scrolls,” Graham added.
The surviving High-Level Mage struggled to recall. After a long ti, he spoke sowhat uncertainly.
“Tutor Eldridge himself… had a Fireball Ring.”
“So, the spell scrolls he requisitioned from the Mage Corps, aside from a few high-circle spells he kept as trump cards, were divided among the rest of us.”
This news invigorated Graham.
“There were five Fireball Scrolls in total. The three Mage Apprentices, myself, and one other fully fledged Mage each received one.”
“And what happened to these scrolls later?” Graham pressed.
“They were all… all used up in the fighting.”
The surviving Mage’s voice trembled slightly, as the scenes of battle flashed through his mind again.
“At least my own scroll was used up. The situation was too chaotic; we had no choice but to use them.”
“As for whether the others’ scrolls were recovered, I do not know.”
A look of pain crossed his face.
“The fighting was too ssy. The Kingdom Army, National Army, International Brigade, Saxons… everyone was fighting street-to-street in the city. We were completely scattered.”
Graham contemplated the Mage’s words, then asked:
“Besides what you’ve just told , were there any other forces present in Seville at the ti?”
The Mage thought for a mont, then shook his head.
“The civilians had largely fled… No one would willingly stay in that hell. Perhaps so people took refuge in the churches, but there’s no knowing.”
“And Tutor Eldridge later directly attacked the enemy observation post in the church bell tower. In that situation, the clergy probably ran away long ago.”
Graham continued to ask a few more questions, which the High-Level Mage answered truthfully.
Concluding the interview, Graham did not linger.
After comforting the survivor one last ti, he returned to the Council Hall, sharing the newly acquired information with the other five Archmages.
The hall fell silent once more after his narration.
But this ti, the silence was laced with uncontrollable fury.
This was no accident.
It was a conspiracy!
Soone deliberately tried to fra the Holy Britannian Empire!
This thought simultaneously occurred to all the Archmages.
It was highly likely that soone had acquired a used spell scroll from Eldridge’s team on the battlefield in Seville.
Then, during the assassination of Archduke Ferdinand, they deliberately left behind this scroll fragnt, orchestrating this outrageous fra-up.
“Chairman, have the agents we sent to Saxony to gather intelligence returned with any news?”
Graham looked up at the Chief Archmage in the main seat.
The Chief Archmage opened his eyes and spoke slowly.
“MI6 [Military Intelligence Section 6] communicated with us earlier. They did indeed identify a Saxon officer who perford exceptionally well in the Battle of Seville and the subsequent battles in the Kingdom of Aragon.”
“Beyond basic information, they only know his na is Friedrich Morin, but they have failed to establish direct contact with him.”
Graham frowned: “Why?”
The Chief Archmage hesitated before explaining: “The man spends most of his ti at the Saxon War College and a garrison on the outskirts of Dresden.”
“Both locations are heavily secured. Our people have been unable to find any suitable opportunity for contact.”
The Chief Archmage sighed:
“And with the scale of the incident in Sarajevo, and all the bla pointing toward us… it is even more inconvenient for us to take any drastic action within Saxon territory.”
Graham understood. The Chief Archmage spoke the truth.
At this critical juncture, any rash behavior could be interpreted by the outside world as a guilty conscience, which would only confirm the Austro-Hungarian accusations.
All they could do now was wait, and… report to the Queen.
Subsequently, Graham, on behalf of the Council, privately reported all the findings to Queen Victoria.
In the study at Buckingham Palace, the ‘Eternal Queen’ showed no sign of expected anger after hearing Graham’s detailed account, instead falling into deep contemplation.
She leaned back in her chair, her fingers lightly tapping the armrest. The only sound in the room was the crackling of wood burning in the fireplace.
After a long while, she looked up at Graham.
“So, the Council’s conclusion is that the Saxons engineered this entire incident?”
Graham nodded solemnly.
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
“All the details align. The Saxon Army was involved in the Battle of Seville. They are the party most likely to have acquired the used spell scroll and provided it to the assassins.”
Queen Victoria did not speak imdiately. Her slender fingers tapped the smooth wooden desk rhythmically.
She couldn’t understand why the Saxons—her own grandson—would do this.
She stood up, walked to the large bay window overlooking the garden, and analyzed the situation for Graham:
“Your deduction is logically sound.”
“The Saxons acquired the scroll from Seville, hired soone to assassinate Archduke Ferdinand, and then shifted the bla onto us… They are capable of executing this entire sequence of steps.”
“The removal of Archduke Ferdinand certainly makes the Austro-Hungarian Empire more reliant on them during this crisis, thereby centing their alliance. This aligns with their interests.”
The Queen turned, her gaze returning to Graham, but her confusion deepened.
“But the question is, why would they go to the trouble of implicating Britannia? Why did they insist on throwing this bla onto us?”
“Your Majesty, this…”
Graham was montarily speechless. As a High-Level Mage, he hadn’t considered this angle.
In his view, it was natural for the Saxons, as the Empire’s historical rival, to act this way.
“Graham, you must understand.”
The Queen’s tone beca serious, sounding every bit like Graham’s superior.
“The Saxon Empire’s greatest enemy right now is the Gallic Republic in the west. This is clear from their relentless efforts to avoid direct conflict with us during the Aragon campaign.”
“If war truly breaks out in the Balkans, what they want most is for our Holy Britannian Empire to remain neutral, watching from the sidelines, as we have done in the past.”
“This would allow them to focus all their strength on dealing with the Gauls, who harbor a deep historical hatred for them.”
“Yet now, they are using this clumsy thod, so eagerly trying to drag us into the fray… forcing us onto the opposing side.”
“This completely contradicts their national strategy and is self-defeating!”
The Queen’s analysis, like a bucket of cold water, instantly sobered Graham.
He suddenly realized that he and the other Archmages of the Council had fallen into a logical fallacy.
They only saw the Saxons’ ‘capability’ to commit the act but overlooked their complete lack of ‘motive’ for implicating Britannia.
If the Saxons had truly committed this act, they would have deliberately created two powerful enemies for themselves—the Gallic Republic in the west and the Holy Britannian Empire further afield.
Unless Emperor Albert II and the Junker nobility under him had all gone mad, they would never commit such a self-destructive act.
“Your Majesty, are you suggesting…” A layer of fine cold sweat appeared on Graham’s forehead.
“It is futile to discuss this now.”
Queen Victoria waved her hand, cutting him off.
This was not the ti to pursue logical purity, but to manage a crisis.
Soon after, Pri Minister Asquith and Foreign Secretary Grey hurriedly entered the study.
“Your Majesty.”
Queen Victoria wasted no ti, succinctly repeating the investigation findings Graham had just reported.
When they heard that the Fireball Scroll had apparently been used up on the battlefield in Seville months ago.
The Pri Minister and the Foreign Secretary wore expressions of shock identical to Graham’s earlier reaction.
“Sir Grey…”
The Queen’s gaze turned to the Foreign Secretary.
“I do not care what thod you use, but imdiately make these findings public. The whole of Europa must know that our Holy Britannian Empire has been shalessly maligned and frad!”
“Yes, Your Majesty!”
Edward Grey straightened his chest, answering loudly.
He finally had the opportunity to return, manifold, the baseless accusations he had endured over the past few days.
“We will inform everyone that the spell scroll indeed originated from our High-Level Mage Corps.”
“But it was already consud months ago in the righteous war where we assisted the legitimate governnt of the Kingdom of Aragon in retaking lost territory!”
“Therefore, any accusation of Britannian involvent in the assassination is profoundly false and a malicious fra-up!”
“Yes, Your Majesty!”
Foreign Secretary Grey imdiately accepted the command.
Soon, the official communiqué of the Holy Britannian Empire was disseminated through major news agencies, radio stations, and foreign embassies with the utmost speed.
This communiqué was nothing short of a bombshell dropped into the already volatile European political arena.
Imdiately, various speculations and conspiracy theories ran rampant.
So believed the Britannian version, agreeing that they had been frad.
But more, especially the nations in the rival alliance, dismissed it as a feeble excuse by the Britannians after their deception was exposed.
In a subsequent public appearance, facing a throng of journalists, Foreign Secretary Edward Grey left only one morable and loaded statent.
“We do not care who wishes to start a war. Our Holy Britannian Empire has never been afraid of war…”
“We only wish to know: who, precisely, intends to drag the innocent into the conflict?”
(End of this Chapter)
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