Ivan peered across the room, pressing his fingers against his furrowed brow. None of the nobles present dared to speak.
A heavy silence hung in the air. Had the Privy Council ever been this well-behaved since its founding?
After losing magic and with the Milestone stopped, winter had arrived suddenly. Though that terrible disaster lasted only a few days, it had enormous repercussions.
Everyone had gathered here, leaving behind the numerous disturbances on their respective islands.
"With such dedication to this country from Your Lordships, what is there to fear?" Aisliff remarked jokingly.
Was the reason they gathered after discovering the anomalies at the Eternal Palace and Idranhill truly to save Idranhill? No, certainly not.
If that had been their purpose, they should have bombarded the Eternal Palace with the warships they brought. When the Seven Dragon General appeared, didn't everyone withdraw their ships beyond its sphere of influence?
"Everyone except the Sword Division has gathered," one council member muttered expressionlessly.
Looking at the empty seats, Aisliff smiled bitterly. Only those madmen had willingly rushed toward death.
All the nobles present had withdrawn their forces. Not because they feared confronting the Seven Dragon General. Rather, because if they suffered losses in battle with such a being, they would inevitably lose influence among the Elven noble houses afterward.
Those who couldn't grasp this concept couldn't have reached this place to begin with.
To the pinnacle of Elven society, the Privy Council. And here to Idranhill.
"Enough idle talk. Since His Majesty has passed away, shouldn't we reorganize the royal family and relaunch the Privy Council?"
"Indeed, we're all busy people."
"It's not right to leave Idranhill as it is. What about relocating the capital? Who knows what that cursed being left behind in this land."
"The Eternal Palace is the essence of our race. Are you suggesting we abandon our ancestors' forest?"
"As if anything remains there anyway."
At one councilor's words, the Privy Council grew noisy again. Now that magic had returned, there was nothing to fear; their military forces remained almost perfectly intact, and the academy's unrest would be suppressed.
Now they began turning their attention to how much damage other nobles had suffered, and whether they could seize the opportunity to devour them.
At this point, with the Queen's authority and the Astronomy Faction that supported her completely gone, the Privy Council was no different from a den of wolves. Who would mediate among them? With what authority?
"Is it true that everyone who entered Idranhill died?"
"Besides humans and a few minor houses, what was in that city apart from the Astronomy Faction? Just the Eternal Palace. Even if anyone survived, what state would they be in now?"
When the Seven Dragon General arrived, the Elven warships had blockaded Idranhill from beyond its waters. And even to the sharpest-eyed Elven sailor, no light could be seen.
The city had lost its function, and that place was now no different from a demon realm.
Though they confirmed that the Sword Division who rushed in had engaged in battle, the overwhelming spells and violence wielded by the great tree had swept through the city—how could anyone survive?
Moreover, it was at a time when magic was gone. And without magic, pre-detection of spells, line-of-fire detection, and basic superhuman physical operation became impossible.
Those great superhumans of the Sword Division charged in at that moment as mere soldiers. Like moths to a flame. And as moths typically do, they too would have been consumed in the flames.
"The Destruction Faction proposes leveling Idranhill."
"That's rather extreme."
"So you oppose it?"
The Privy Council didn't stir. Because everyone desired it.
If any survivors from the Sword Division and Astronomy Faction remained, they could cleanly wipe them out, and if by chance the Queen had survived, they could deal with her too.
The old powers shouldn't be allowed to return and claim their former authority. The next monarch must be a puppet of the Privy Council, and the next capital must be taken by their own factions.
Thinking of that prosperous island owned by the Sword Division, several councilors slowly licked their lips.
"I agree with that, but I suggest we take a broader view."
"...Lord Heodrick. Speak."
"Is there any reason to focus solely on this small land?"
The ruler of the Mental Faction rose from his seat with a sinister smile.
"Kalion was a 'blessed' land. Abundant resources, plentiful magic, mild climate... But is it still so? Even though winter has passed, Kalion will now wither and deteriorate with the seasons like the lands of other races."
"What are you getting at?"
"Don't humans have a good cultural practice?"
As Heodrick waved his hand, a massive map appeared in the air. The magic-created map depicted the Kalion waters, the Demon Realm, and the continent of the United Kingdoms.
He jabbed at the Demon Realm and said, "Some human nations colonize this place. They establish military rule and exploit the demons..."
"And?"
"Since the world is pushing us out of Kalion, why shouldn't we do the same?"
Heodrick lightly swept across the entire map. Several ships flying from Kalion began turning parts of the map blue.
"Aren't the three seas and one sky all our territory? Rather than grinding our teeth against each other in this cramped land, why not share it amicably?"
This world.
The assembly fell silent at Heodrick's words.
Without the overwhelming conditions created by the Milestone, Kalion is not much different from other islands in the world. Rather, its limited territory makes its constraints clear.
But if they could effectively control the entire world, just a few airships targeting royal palaces for bombardment would leave most countries unable to respond.
Except for Droan, Kalion, and Tilles, none of the smaller countries had any means to counter even a single airship.
So, not bad. Why shed blood among their own people, fighting over power in this cramped land?
"That's..."
"If the councilors accept this proposal, my faction will take the Krasilov direction."
"Krasilov? Those gunpowder-obsessed barbarians will be the most troublesome."
"Since it's my suggestion, I'll face the most difficult opponent. Will you join me?"
At that moment, the door burst open loudly. Despite this rudeness, the Elves didn't turn or show surprise. They merely frowned elegantly to express their displeasure.
Since their temporary council chamber was on Aisliff's flagship, he turned toward the uninvited intruder and reprimanded him quietly.
"We're in a meeting. Leave."
"Y-Your Excellency. I apologize, but j-just a moment—"
The intruder was his most trusted deck officer. With a slight nod, the deck officer quickly approached and whispered carefully in his ear.
"The Sword Division's flagship is approaching for contact...!!"
"So they survived."
Aisliff nodded slightly. He soon asked quietly:
"Their military flag?"
"Only the Sword Division's."
"That will do."
If the royal insignia flag wasn't with them, then the Queen was certainly dead.
Aisliff waved away the deck officer and raised his head toward the assembly whose attention was now focused on him.
"Lord Coenwulf of the Sword Division has arrived. We'll take a brief recess."
The flagship of Edelplatt, the "Elven Summit," approached with black military flags fluttering. Unlike other Elven noble houses, she didn't launch an airship but attempted to board directly via a bridge.
The gunners and sailors on deck stared.
The crew of that warship were survivors from hell. They had returned from Idranhill, from the Seven Dragon General, or from areas where comparable beings had directly appeared.
Though the nobles paid little attention to this fact, the lower-ranking Elves swallowed hard as they observed the tattered exterior of the warship.
Her coat fluttered gently in the breeze. Black hair scattered in the wind. With a sword hanging lightly at her waist, an Elf strode across the bridge as if completely unaffected by the aftermath of battle.
"Lady Edelplatt Coenwulf. Congratulations on your victory," a sailor said in a trembling voice.
This legendary Elf had once faced the Seven Dragon General alone and returned alive, and now she had returned after directly slaughtering the Seven Dragon General.
Beneath her coat, in the space where her left arm should have been, there was emptiness.
They said she had left one eye and one arm with the Seven Dragon General. The wound, still fresh with blood, stained the bandages wrapped around it red.
Eventually, sailors began boarding behind her one by one. Disciples of the Sword Division. Wounded soldiers with the heavy smell of blood, limping legs, and occasionally missing limbs.
Yet none of them stooped. They stood tall, chests out, like victorious warriors returning home.
So the Elves present willingly showed them respect. They had saved the nation from threat, protected the capital, and ultimately killed the Seven Dragon General.
Since the historical era, only the Hero Party had directly slaughtered a Seven Dragon General with such a small force.
Their achievement was comparable. That's how they evaluated it.
"Thank you. Where are our councilors?"
"I'll guide you to the council chamber, Lady Coenwulf."
"Please do."
Edel followed him with a low laugh. The Elves of the Sword Division and a few humans followed behind her.
"All our kind and passionate lords are gathered here."
Edel walked straight across the wide conference room toward the empty seat.
"You launched your ships as soon as you discovered the anomaly, yet you've been enjoying refreshments out here on this distant sea?"
She removed her coat and hung it on the chair. She sat down, leaned back crookedly, and loosened her sword, hanging it askew beside her.
Even as she put her feet up on the table, no one dared address her.
"What? Have you all become mutes?"
"Coenwulf. Mind your manners."
"The men to whom I owed manners died in that hell, Aisliff."
As the chairman fell silent at her words, someone stood up abruptly. The ruler of the Destruction Faction, Silmon, was frowning.
"Are you blaming us, Coenwulf? Wasn't it you who rushed out when we suggested prioritizing a council meeting before engaging in battle?"
"Silmon."
"You killed the Seven Dragon General? Yes, a great achievement. But was it out of goodwill? You, Edelplatt Coenwulf, don't pretend to be righteous. Do you think you're any different? Did you have absolutely no desire to save the Queen and strengthen your position through that achievement and fame?"
"Silmon."
Edelplatt simply stared at him without saying anything.
"Speak, Edel. Don't just call my name."
"You are within my range."
With a metallic sound, the atmosphere turned cold as Edel lifted the sword hilt with her thumb. Within sword range, Edel was supreme. No one present was unaware of this fact, and she had just proven it again in Idranhill.
The councilors quietly began preparing their magic. That madwoman could explode at any moment.
"Please calm down, Lady Coenwulf."
"Heodrick."
"Yes, we gladly pay our respects to your struggle. Also, we express our condolences for the sacrifice of many human resources from the Sword Division."
Heodrick slowly rose, pressing his hands on the table.
"But isn't this assembly a crucial council that will determine the future of our race? How long has it been since our Privy Council met face to face like this? Should such an occasion end in tragedy?"
"Say what you want to say first."
"We were discussing whether there's any reason for Kalion to remain as a kingdom."
"Abolish the monarchy?"
"No. Each faction now wishes to become independent. We want to move beyond Kalion without the Milestone and venture into the wider world."
What an incredible way to package colonization.
Edel smiled grimly as soon as she grasped his meaning. These damn people haven't changed at all.
What to do? Could she kill everyone here? Alone it would be impossible, but with 'him' by her side now, it might be possible.
Calculating the possibilities, she tapped the sword guard with her thumb and looked aside.
"What do you think, Yon?"
She needed to hear Ivan's opinion too. If he still had the strength to continue fighting, well, it might be worth giving it a try.
"Yon?"
Ivan stood silently with his eyes deeply closed, not responding to her words.
So quietly that even his breathing couldn't be heard. Silently.
Is he very tired? Well, it's a miracle he can move at all in his condition. That man, still hard to believe, has just faced the Seven Dragon General alone.
"Yon. Are you alright? If you're very tired, you can go out and rest."
"Quiet."
"...Huh?"
Ivan's voice sounded strange. A trembling voice, as if he was barely holding his breath.
Edel tilted her head, looking at Ivan.
'It's familiar.'
A trained agent never ignores déjà vu. A sense of familiarity could mean that someone they've encountered before is present in disguise.
Therefore, as soon as Ivan entered the conference room, he cast a focused glance at Edel and stood behind her with his eyes closed.
When facing people, Ivan often uses senses beyond visual information.
Scent, the specific pattern when hormones secreted from tension and fear evaporate mixed with sweat.
Hearing, the regular pulsation of heartbeats. Fear, affection, excitement, and other human emotional fluctuations change the contraction cycle of the heart.
Voice, the regularity flowing through breathing and vocal cords. The depth of breathing and vibration of vocal cords are different for each person.
Yes, people fundamentally cannot change these three things. Though they may change slightly with lifestyle habits, the essence remains unchanged.
Like fingerprints. As clear as fingerprints. A trained agent can identify a disguised person in a closed space when in close proximity.
It's the same level of difficulty as reading and distinguishing fingerprints with the naked eye.
It requires a high level of concentration, memory, and judgment. But that's just another way of saying it's only as difficult as distinguishing fingerprints with the naked eye.
Superhumans can possess sensory organs as precise as modern mechanical devices. Especially depending on their training method.
Ivan was the type of agent who had embodied such training to the extreme. Therefore.
"I remember."
Holding his breath, suppressing even his own heartbeat as much as possible, concentrating all his nerves on hearing and smell.
It's fortunate. His extremely fatigued body is now merely pulsating weakly. With survival instinct extremely stimulated now, the life activities of others are heard more clearly.
Ivan finally scanned everyone present one more time.
Carefully examining all heartbeats, all scents, all breaths of the 11 councilors and the attendants standing behind them.
"Yon. Are you alright?"
With a click, Ivan mechanically extended his hand, letting Edel's words drift past his ears.
Despite his overheated nerves, torn muscle fibers, and trembling fingertips from lack of calories, his actions were extremely mechanical.
Ivan's hand gripped the pistol from inside his clothes without a moment's hesitation or fumbling, inserted a round into the chamber, and completed loading.
In that instant, too quick even for Edel to react, the gun was already firmly gripped in his outstretched hand.
Raising it while aligning the sights.
Stopping while his index finger slipped inside the trigger guard.
Opening his eyes while exhaling half a breath, short and sharp.
As blue eyes gleamed ominously beneath the front sight.
With a loud bang—!!
"Alexandr. I remember you."
He growled lowly as the gunshot rang out.
"Well, I've been discovered."
The attendant standing behind Lord Heodrick smiled as he removed his hood.
Along with this, Heodrick, who had been trying to rise from his seat, staggered and collapsed.
Removing his hand from the back of Heodrick's neck, Alexandr smiled brightly.
"I didn't expect you to return alive again."