Chapter 310

Chapter 310

The celebration ended in triumph.

As Bellrose listened to her attendants review the aristocracy’s impressions, she silently calculated her next steps.

This was merely the opening move.

True authority naturally attracted fortune, reputation, and military might, but sometimes, possessing fortune, reputation, and military might could also summon true authority. The Council of 72 and Aster had granted Bellrose more than enough leverage to seize that authority. Now, the outcome rested entirely on how she chose to wield it.

“We will conclude for tonight. We shall review the remaining matters tomorrow.”

“Understood, Your Highness.”

Leaving the grand ballroom behind, Bellrose made her way toward a different part of the estate. She traversed the expansive corridor, heading toward the secluded chamber where she had briefly withdrawn earlier. The festivities were over, but her most critical agenda remained unfinished.

“Are you present?”

Aster was lounging on the sofa exactly as before, idly snacking on peanuts. Bellrose observed him silently for a brief moment before shifting her attention to the elderly gentleman engrossed in a text across from him.

“Sir Mysern, it has been quite some time.”

“Hmm… You recognized me?”

Bellrose gestured toward the back of her own hand, drawing Mysern’s gaze to his own skin. A distinct, crescent-shaped scar marked the back of Mysern’s hand.

“Heh, well… I ought to have exercised more caution since the late Emperor passed away. I should have formalised my respects much sooner; I have been remiss.”

“Not at all. I am deeply grateful for your assistance in this matter.”

“Assistance…”

Mysern offered a bittersweet smile. In truth, he was only present because Aster had maneuvered him into the situation through deception. Even upon discovering it was an initiative led by the Third Princess, he had possessed no desire to involve himself. Consequently, accepting her gratitude felt entirely unearned.

“Your senior associate accompanied me, so shouldn’t your appreciation be directed toward me instead?”

A momentary quiet filled the room.

“How have you been faring?”

“Very well, and what of you, Sir Mysern…”

As if by unspoken agreement, Bellrose and Mysern exchanged polite pleasantries while completely ignoring Aster’s presence, before finally taking their seats. For Bellrose, the most formidable challenge was only just beginning.

The reason was entirely due to the Council of 72. This gathering was meant to determine the compensation required for leveraging their reputation. Yet, before diving into negotiations, Bellrose needed to verify one crucial detail.

“Aster, will you give me an honest answer?”

“……?”

“The Council of 72… I initially assumed it was a faction assembled in great haste. Essentially a front organization. However…”

Bellrose looked directly at Mysern. The older man simply took a sip of his tea without offering the slightest response, silently indicating that the explanation belonged to Aster alone.

This detail was paramount for Bellrose. If the Council of 72 was a genuine entity and Aster occupied the position of fourth in command, it implied that three individuals of equal or greater caliber stood above him. Aster alone was formidable enough. If the ‘Spiritual Master of the Raging Wind’ placed eighth, what could be said of the rest?

Perhaps… Yes. The Raging Moon. The moon consumed by the bear.

That could signify the backing of an organization capable of rivaling the most illustrious mage corps in imperial history. Merely associating with their name would exponentially broaden her scope of influence. Thus, Bellrose could not help but harbor great expectations.

However.

“The Council of 72 does not actually exist.”

“…Ah.”

“Sir Mysern simply got tangled up in this by coincidence. To be completely blunt, the Council of 72 is essentially just myself… along with a parasite and a single mage.”

“A parasite? A mage?”

“Correct, individuals of that nature exist.”

“Mmm.”

Bellrose contemplated Aster’s words for a brief period before pressing further.

“In that case, Aster, what is your true capabilities?”

“My capabilities… Hmm.”

He hesitated briefly. While he had displayed incredible talent by overcoming Count Erzin, declaring his own status out loud was entirely different. Still, allowing the world to know that a grand archmage had achieved transcendence at the mere age of fifteen might not be a terrible idea.

“Transcendence?”

“I have only recently attained it, so my refinement is still lacking, but it is unequivocally transcendence.”

Bellrose exhaled a breath that carried a completely different weight than her previous one. Learning that the Council of 72 was a fabrication had brought a wave of disappointment, but now, that void was instantly filled by an overwhelming sense of awe.

Right at that moment, Aster’s voice cut through her thoughts.

“However… are you entirely comfortable with this?”

“……?”

“Setting the Council of 72 aside, you now understand the true scale of my power without a doubt. Doesn’t that alter your initial assessments?”

The implication was clear: his price had just skyrocketed.

Realization dawned on Bellrose a moment too late, prompting a soft murmur of comprehension. To be fair, she had mentally braced herself for such a development. If Aster truly stood among the transcendent, she was prepared to meet whatever demands he deemed appropriate. A grand archmage was hardly the type to haggle over petty sums.

Yet, knowing his true nature left her mind momentarily blank. It was entirely justified; the glimpses she had caught of Aster’s background were every bit as enigmatic as his raw power. Why wouldn’t they be? His individual strength already breached the realm of transcendence, he maintained close ties with the young heir of the illustrious Blandoga family, and he was connected to the ‘Spiritual Master of the Raging Wind’.

Furthermore, he had the allegiance of Principal Schubertz of the Raging Moon… and in all likelihood, even Grand Duke Muspellun. What could a person with such connections possibly desire from her?

“Has the cost shifted from what we previously discussed?” Bellrose inquired, her voice tight with tension.

“It could hardly remain identical, could it?”

“Then… please reveal what you require.”

First.

“Obstruct the Second Prince. I intervened to assist with your ascension precisely because of him. I need you to serve as an unyielding barrier against the Second Prince.”

“But… couldn’t you simply enlist the strength of Grand Duke Muspellun for such a task…?”

“Are you attempting to cross-examine me?”

Aster let out a soft chuckle and offered a candid reply, seeing no reason to withhold the truth from Bellrose.

“Sir Muspellun is occupied with matters elsewhere and cannot spare the time. He is currently containing the Second Black-and-White Slum among other things. At any rate, you comprehend the first term, correct?”

“Yes, I understand.”

In truth, comprehension mattered little; it was an obligation she was bound to fulfill regardless, given her current alliance with Aster. The real dilemma lay in his second demand.

“Second… Hmm.”

Aster fell silent, deeply immersed in his own reflections. He seemed to waver over whether to voice his thoughts, but eventually spoke up.

“Select one of these two options.”

“One of two?”

“Yes.”

To be perfectly frank, this secondary term was a novel concept that had only just occurred to him. He genuinely had a great deal to weigh. The Third Princess had already justified her worth merely by keeping the Second Prince in check, and leveraging the monarchy’s reach yielded plenty of secondary advantages. Still, settling for only that felt like an underwhelming arrangement.

Compensating himself with material wealth felt far too mundane. Then, the solution became clear—a method to acquire everything without explicitly depriving her of anything.

“Option one: align yourself with the Council of 72.”

Bellrose tilted her head in confusion. Had he not just confessed that the organization was a sham?

Aster had not finished his explanation.

“Option two: align yourself with the Magic Tower.”

“The Magic Tower… what exactly is that?”

Aster clarified, “It is the citadel I am currently establishing; essentially, the foundational core of the Council of 72. Ah, and ensure you keep this confidence to yourself. Understood?”

“Yes, I understand, but…”

Aligning with one of the two options?

“But Aster, aren’t you the individual directing both of those factions?”

“Indeed.”

“…Ah.”

Bellrose exhaled yet another heavy sigh. The situation vividly reminded her of those ridiculous, agonizing hypothetical dilemmas the boys back at the academy always gossiped about. It was a choice between two equally absurd paths.

“What is the meaning behind that expression?”

“No… it is nothing.”

Bellrose shook her head, her spirit wilting like a hound forced to walk beneath a merciless, sweltering sun.

“So, which path will you choose to join?”

“…Sir Mysern isn’t actually a member of the Council of 72, correct?”

Aster paused to consider before offering his reply.

“I shall officially induct you into the Council of 72 starting this very day, naturally.”

“…Junior, who gave you the authority to make that determination?”

“In name only, simply in name only.”

Mysern appeared profoundly irritated, yet he restrained himself from voicing harsh criticisms in the presence of the Third Princess.

Regardless, the decision was made. The Council of 72 it was.

Upon hearing those words, Mysern let out a profound sigh, looking entirely defeated. The older gentleman looked utterly exhausted by the turn of events. Conversely, Aster was the sole individual whose face lit up with a brilliant smile.

“In that case, select a number that appeals to you.”

“Could it be…?”

“Yes, that shall designate your position. As a reminder, nothing ahead of ‘4’. Ah, hold on… positions one, two, and three are already claimed, so it isn’t ahead, but rather behind. Regardless.”

Bellrose whispered under her breath, “Abominable brat.”

“Beg pardon? Did you just utter a grievance…?”

“No, I have a fondness for the number 18.”

“…Ah, I should have anticipated as much.”

“Very well, so it shall be.”

Aster readily conceded to Bellrose’s selection. And with that, the agreement was sealed.

The Third Princess had been successfully integrated into the Council of 72.

It marked the exact instance the Council of 72 successfully claimed a member of the royal bloodline.

Time marched forward relentlessly once more.

The academy students found themselves plunged right into preparing for their final examinations immediately following the midterms, and the atmosphere grew steadily colder. The once lush, green canopy transformed into a tapestry of brilliant autumn shades, while the sky shifted to a higher, crisper shade of blue.

Yet, as the days drifted by, the turning of the seasons was far from the only transformation taking place.

“Hey, did you catch the latest news? Regarding Her Highness the Third Princess…”

“You mean the Council of 72, right? Word is they serve as her personal enforcement… Even a grand archmage only ranks as their fourth.”

Her faction’s influence expanded to an unprecedented degree.

Simultaneously, the Second Black-and-White Slum, now firmly under the administration of Grand Duke Muspellun, flourished with each passing day thanks to royal funding, completely shedding its former destitute appearance. It was a staggering metamorphosis accomplished in an incredibly brief window of time.

Damian’s magical capabilities advanced at a consistent pace. Meanwhile, Chenbi and Evelyn continued to flirt with exhaustion as they battled their way through academic evaluations.

And so, during this interval of relative tranquility, a major update arrived—bringing joy to some and dismay to others.

The conflict between Lortel and Deculan was drawing to its ultimate conclusion.

The bitter feud between the two prominent houses, which had ignited during the dead of winter, was finally reaching its end. As the announcement rippled across the length of the empire, Aster raised his gaze toward the pristine azure sky.

Even beneath a facade of tranquility, the core of the world continued to burn with intensity.