Chapter 125

Konel sighed deeply.

In her gaze burned an indignation no less than that of Matheos.

“Lord Valenccius.”

“Yes.”

“I thought I had compromised quite a bit, but should I have compromised even more?”

Konel’s shoulders slumped, yet there was strength in her hand gripping the staff.

I shook my head lightly.

It was not a sign of denial, but rather an indication to calm down.

“I will submit a lawsuit to the Supreme Court.”

Konel did not heed my words.

Damn it.

Marcus clicked his tongue, and Parnesia, with a face even younger than Konel’s, brazenly spoke.

“Go ahead.”

Konel shot back incredulously.

“Count Your Excellency, what are you so boldly relying on?”

The Supreme Court was not a place that overlooked nobility.

It was an institution established to resolve legal issues brought to the Imperial Family by the provincial high nobles.

The lawsuits presented there were on a completely different scale from the outset.

Families ruling provinces of three million people were split and fought for about ten years, and during that time, they entered political marriages, complicating the lines of succession and inheritance, all while the number one, two, three, and four in the line of succession ended up dead.

In such circumstances, how can a family divide its territory?

As the issues were resolved legally, the judges there were all from renowned court noble families, and like the court official grandmother had, they were bestowed with the title of Duke.

No matter how great Parnesia was as a Count and a renowned magician, there was nothing she could do in such a place.

“Do not pretend to be so clean, daughter of a criminal.”

Parnesia spat, exuding flames.

Konel clenched her jaw, her face hardening.

It was a look that asked how.

Parnesia mocked her, laughing sadistically.

“Do you think there are any who aren’t criminals on that street?”

“!”

It was a leading question.

Indeed, she was not an opponent to be underestimated.

“You must have bled during the unification and purification of the slums. The councilors don’t stab each other with the law for no reason.”

Everyone knew each other’s flaws, so once a fight began, it was bound to become a expose battle.

Then there’s no choice but to die together, so the moment the other party mentions the law, they send thugs to silence them forever.

The knights were supposed to be fighting external enemies, while the constables struggled just to keep the unrelated thugs in check.

I shook my head as I looked at Konel.

“Konel. Marcus seems to have a lot to say, but I’ll interrupt.”

Marcus made a startled expression.

“This isn’t something we gather to resolve in a place like this. Remember that you are now not just someone who follows the law, but someone who creates it.”

Shouldn’t someone who creates the law adhere to it even more strictly? Both Konel and I had experienced lawlessness far too much to say that.

“Besides, filing a lawsuit over the rebate matter is impossible.”

“Why not?”

Parnesia and Marcus replied, “It’s customary.”

“It’ll at most yield a fine of three gold coins.”

I shook my head.

“I received it too. You gave it to me.”

“You insane sibling! When did you take it while you were hanging back?”

Thwack!

With a jolt, Sererassie smacked my head with a jewel at the tip of her staff.

“No, Valen! That!”

Konel protested with a face full of dismay.

Marcus and Parnesia exchanged glances, both showing expressions as if they’d just been hit in the back of the head.

“You’d make a fine councilor.”

“You already seem like a more capable councilor than I am.”

Konel let out a short sigh, then spoke again with a relieved expression.

“Since it’s come to this, let’s settle it.”

She caught on with her unique intuition that I did not want to stir up more trouble.

For Konel, Marcus, and me, cleaning up what we started and then starting something new was the default mode of life.

The moment one relinquishes power, crimes arise, and since that leads to the deaths of precious people, one must continue to hold onto power.

It was my duty as a royal to appropriately prune the harms that arose in that process.

As I just mentioned, it must be done “adequately.”

I had captured the “Old Scholar” organization today, yet I had not touched Marcus, who was hiring them.

Instead of getting rid of him, it was better to use him, someone who knows everything, to change the world for the better.

I was a person who could do that and one who had to do that.

With a clever smile, Konel addressed a man potentially as old as her father.

“Councilor Marcus, let’s end this here. You know the state of the slums, don’t you? We barely cleaned that pit and turned it into a livable place; what do you think would happen if you come here to cause trouble?”

Marcus replied with the look of someone not a child, but a competitor.

“I’m sorry, Councilor Konel. When my street guilds express their desire to relocate or open branches, could you give me a heads-up? I need the chance to persuade them too.”

I wasn’t sure if that persuasion would be verbal or through force.

Konel would likely be aware of that too.

However, she was a councilor from the old slums, rather than the northern side of the Street of Learning.

After one second of contemplation, she responded.

“Yes.”

I wasn’t sure if I had taught her properly or if she had grown up well on her own.

It was likely the latter.

* * *

Forming alliances was more challenging than maintaining them.

As soon as Konel responded, Parnesia jabbed Marcus in the ribs.

“What are you proposing on your own?”

Marcus wore a contrite smile on his rough face.

“Count Your Excellency, wouldn’t it be better to draw the line here? There are only two noble lords involved right now. Moreover, isn’t that esteemed Lord Valenccius over there?”

He likely wanted to say “infamous.”

“I’m also worried about the declining sales of Count Your Excellency. I hold a considerable share too, you know? But that doesn’t mean I can keep destroying the guild over there.”

“Are you suggesting I compromise as well?”

Parnesia’s eyes blazed with fury.

Marcus hesitated momentarily.

Sererassie leaned forward.

I understood all their reactions.

The work of councilors was to compromise, while for magicians pursuing truth, compromise was out of the question.

Marcus and Konel hesitated as they spoke.

“Count, this is not magic, is it?”

“Your Excellency, if you’ve enjoyed the benefits along with the councilors, you should also respect the laws that govern them.”

The girl in front of me sounded no different from Parnesia.

Parnesia smiled coldly and locked eyes with Konel.

Under the pressure of a figure likely to have lived over a hundred years, Konel took a breath.

“You have no shortage of words. I feel like biting you.”

However, Parnesia was also someone who knew her limits.

It seemed she had already realized that I did not want to stir up trouble.

“Yes, young councilor, you are right. There is a world of magic and a world of councilors. Both bear different kinds of responsibilities.”

Konel lowered her gaze slightly and backed down.

She signaled that she would not press the issue any further.

She needed to resume construction as soon as possible to bring in cash flow.

She was likely losing her mind over the investment she was seeking to recover, not to mention that she was already making investments and taking on more.

She didn’t even expect compensation; she was likely grateful just to have managed to secure a promise not to cause more chaos.

…I would need to find a way to take something back from her later.

I turned my body to face Sererassie.

The matters related to the councilors were now settled through negotiation.

What remained was the business of the magicians, mixed with emotions, pride, and the logic of power.

And from my experience, this would be much more challenging.

“Sister?”

Sererassie, seemingly still in shock from hitting my head, slowly lifted her head and opened her mouth.

“You all live so difficult lives.”

The two councilors let out awkward chuckles and sounds of embarrassment.

“That seems impressive as well. I understand the principles of the heavens, but I do not understand people. Honestly, I didn’t want to know much either.”

Magicians, who could change reality through will, did not ascribe meaning to the capriciousness of human hearts.

“I thought you lived like that too. Ignoring the subtle hints from the other seniors in the guild, inciting a storm while losing your body and ending up losing your arms and eyes, yet never compromising—truly a magician among magicians.”

At those words, Parnesia had a look on her face similar to mine, one of regret and nostalgia.

A bittersweet smile.

Sererassie looked at her with a puzzled expression.

“I don’t know what that means. Whether you are a betraying scoundrel who slapped my face with the dirty backdoor negotiations after compromising with truth and choosing worldly wealth, or a magician who would do anything to achieve her means.”

Because they could change the world with sheer will, magicians valued logic and reasoning, and thus were practical and efficient.

If it worked once, they’d just do it again, regardless of what the world thought.

Even for someone as competent as I, it had taken a long time to understand that logic.

When magic manifests, it means one is on the right path to truth.

If one succeeded through human experiments, that meant they had found the path to truth.

The world despises us? These ignorant fools.

When the black saint Matheos was told to burn everything under this monastery’s bell tower, he indeed pondered whether this was truly the will of the divine.

At this point, a magician wouldn’t even contemplate.

I felt that I shouldn’t live like Parnesia, yet she seemed to be doing just fine.

So, my thoughts must have been wrong.

This was the logic of a magician.

Perhaps even Sererassie was thinking along those lines now.

Sererassie raised her head.

“Senior, I don’t think I can ever acknowledge that.”

That was why her voice was so wavering.

“So what do you want to do? Your Excellency.”

“I need to verify what you found on that path.”

“In books?”

“No. In a duel.”

Parnesia sighed deeply.

“Are you saying you want to duel with someone who has neither eyes nor legs?”

Sererassie smiled playfully.

“Then shouldn’t you apologize? For introducing me to a path so wrong that it confused me.”

Parnesia spoke with a voice tinged with greed like flames.

“That cannot be.”

“Tomorrow. In the Warlock practice area. Without weapons except for the staff.”

* * *

The warlock guild, known as battle mages, was not situated among the roots of trees but rather deep within the trunk of a tree.

The spacious arena, situated about 30 meters from the ground, was a roughly 50-meter diameter circle.

Naturally, both the floor and walls were made of wood, but this wood did not ignite in flames, nor did it rot in the wilderness.

Vines that bloomed glowing flowers grew here and there, serving as lanterns.

Sererassie tied her long, dark blue hair back neatly, donned a red-lined hat, and wrapped herself in a robe also edged in red.

The outer fabric was dark blue, similar to her hair, and was a high-quality item imbued with several defensive spells.

Of course, she had become wealthy and powerful enough to procure even more expensive items than this.

Yet, Sererassie still cherished that robe and hat.

Like the yellow-gemmed staff that resembled her eyes, her robe and hat were also gifted magical tools from her old master, Gestarte.

The master played a hugely significant role for a magician.

Whenever she thought of a magician, Sererassie thought of Gestarte.

The flash of the bright, red lightning.

The flash that illuminated the darkness and moved forward.

“Sister, are you confident in winning? It’s true there’s a noticeable gap in experience.”

Lord Valenccius asked worriedly.

Contrary to public perception, duel trials were set up such that opponents had roughly equal strength.

For instance, when a man and a woman fought, the man would have to stand in a pit with only his upper body exposed, and if one was particularly skilled in combat, he might have to use a shorter weapon or discard his armor.

The logic was that the side that won under equal conditions had been favored by the divine.

“Don’t worry. Following you around has made me used to fighting without knights.”

“If you lose, it’ll be problematic. If you were to be doubted in the practicality of the magical tool you made, then the money I invested could fly away, and Konel and I would have a hard time recouping our investment.”

The audience had not gathered like clouds, but the opponent would surely spread the word.

At the very least, Lord Valenccius thought so.

“Well, that’s good for you. You need to work harder. Seeing that you’re concerned about such things shows that you’re still in a position of comfort, doesn’t it?”

Sererassie replied playfully as she stepped into the center of the arena.

She was staking not money, but her beliefs.

“Your Excellency. May I start?”

Parnesia asked as she accepted an obsidian staff meant for dueling from her disciple.

With stark white hair cut sharply in a bob and fiery red eyes set in a brown-skinned, short-statured magician.

A black eyepatch covered her left eye, and she wore a wooden prosthetic arm and a crimson robe patterned with yellow.

Despite her childlike appearance, she exuded the presence of a significant figure who had maintained her position in the palace’s magical guild for decades.

Lord Valenccius nodded and took a step back.

Whoosh!

Crackle!

In that moment, flames and sparks erupted fiercely.