Chapter 20: The Elder Council – (6)
“What? There was an attack?”
“Yes, sir.”
The middle-aged elf sitting at the table—Edwin Faylid—lifted his pale eyebrows upon hearing the report.
Suha shrank slightly under Edwin’s sharp gaze.
“What kind of attack was it?”
“It was a rooftop sniper attack using magically enhanced blades. A clear assassination attempt.”
“And the result?”
“The princess is unharmed. It seems the royal guard threw himself in the way to shield her.”
“Hmmm...”
Edwin let out a low groan as he tried to calm his trembling hands. He was visibly shaken.
He slowly took off his glasses and leaned back in his chair.
The faint glow of a flickering mana lamp bathed the office in soft light.
Seated at the round desk, Edwin, the Chair of the Council, waved a hand.
“The council session is suspended for now.”
“But sir—”
“No. It’s suspended. Continuing is pointless.”
“...Understood.”
Suha bowed deeply and exited the office.
Left alone in the room, Edwin covered his forehead with one hand.
“So, someone’s finally decided to interfere.”
All the attacks Edwin had orchestrated until now were quiet, discreet—leaving no trace.
That was how the council had been able to push forward under his authority, despite occasional instability.
But this attempt had occurred in broad daylight. Too many witnesses.
Edwin hadn’t ordered it.
Now the fact that someone was targeting Lincia Airen would become public knowledge.
Suspicion and certainty are two very different things.
Naturally, the Elder Council couldn’t proceed as usual.
“How absurd.”
Edwin gritted his teeth and clenched the pen in his hand.
He had worked tirelessly to embed his people in the council, carefully buying time and waiting for the right opportunity.
There were times when he’d nearly succeeded.
If all else failed, he was even prepared to risk stepping in himself.
The princess was like a rat trapped in a jar.
It was all within reach.
And now, some fool had just tossed ash onto the finished dish.
Who was the uninvited guest?
He began to think through the possibilities slowly.
The administrators? No.
The royal guard? No motive.
Duke Crater wasn’t present.
The mongrel from the undercity wouldn’t make a move.
The Cult? He’d negotiated with them personally.
No one came to mind.
He had accounted for every variable in his plan.
In the end, Edwin could not reach a conclusion.
Overcome with emotion, he slammed his fist on the desk.
“Just who the hell was it?!”
“You looking for me?”
A woman’s voice suddenly rang out across the office.
Startled, Edwin whipped his head around.
A woman dressed in black was sitting on the opposite chair, waving cheerfully at him.
“Y-You!”
“Shhh.”
She placed a finger over her lips, but Edwin was already scrambling from his chair, pressing himself against the wall.
He felt his teeth chatter.
He had lived for centuries—yet here he was, trembling in fear before this slender woman.
“...Arwen, the Apostle.”
Arwen, the Apostle of Corruption.
One of the five Apostles of the Cult—and the most dangerous of them all.
And now she was right in front of him.
“How the hell did you get in here?”
“I walked through the door, obviously.”
Arwen pointed behind her.
The floor was soaked in blood.
Slumped against the wall was a corpse—its head missing—slowly sliding downward.
The corpse belonged to Suha, who had just delivered the report moments ago and left the room.
“He kept blocking the way, so I lost my temper.”
“...”
“I did kill him… but he wasn’t someone you were particularly fond of, was he?”
Edwin took a deep breath, forcing himself to regain composure.
Arwen was undeniably dangerous—but as long as their interests aligned, she wouldn’t harm him. That was the logic he clung to.
“There were layers of protection wards around the council hall. How did you get past them?”
“You really think I wouldn’t have a single person planted inside? There’s always a way.”
So there was a mole.
Edwin realized his oversight. But showing hesitation now would be the mark of an amateur. He remained calm as he asked:
“Why? I thought our business with you people was already concluded.”
“Oh? I didn’t get that memo,” Arwen replied with a shrug.
Edwin furrowed his brow.
“Why not? I was to kill the princess and establish a new empire. And you were to coexist with us in return.”
“Yeah, that’s what we said.”
Before the birth of the new empire, Edwin had made the calculated decision to cooperate with the cult, or what they called church—the most unpredictable external threat.
Without that, his grand vision was impossible to realize.
He reached out to them and struck a temporary pact.
He would eliminate the last imperial princess, and in return, the church would acknowledge and support the new empire’s legitimacy.
That was the deal.
Then why was the Apostle of Corruption standing in his office… after killing his subordinate?
“If you understand that, then get out. I will kill the princess, as promised.”
The daytime attack—it had to be the church’s doing.
“Your lot’s reckless stunt ruined my entire plan.”
“Why? Isn’t it good if she dies?”
“There’s no justification. The princess must die in what appears to be an accident—not an assassination.”
Only that would justify the new empire’s rise.
The Elder Council would take the reins in the wake of the tragic loss, honor her legacy, and choose a new ruler.
That ruler would be none other than Edwin Faylid himself—an elf emperor, finally ushering in a reign for his own kind.
Of course, there would be backlash.
If the princess were assassinated, the blame would fall squarely on Edwin. That’s why the cover of an accident was essential.
Suppressing public outrage was the only way to move forward smoothly.
“...Hmm. I still don’t really get it,” Arwen said with a tilt of her head.
“But I guess it doesn’t matter.”
She slowly rose from the chair.
A creeping aura of corruption began to descend over her shoulders.
Watching her every move, Edwin shouted in alarm.
“W-What are you doing?!”
“What does it look like? I’m here to kill you.”
“But we had an agreement!”
“And? Those things are just… annoying.”
“Ugh!”
Edwin groaned in frustration.
He knew the church could be unruly—but this? This was madness.
A catastrophic miscalculation.
Survival now took precedence.
Edwin moved a hand behind his back and began channeling mana.
He hastily formed a weak protective barrier. It was crude and unstable—utterly lacking in strength compared to the pressure radiating from her.
Whether she noticed or didn’t care, Arwen continued speaking nonchalantly.
“Things have changed. I had a dog I planted in this little empire of yours. And it looks like that dog’s starting to rebel.”
“...What?”
“He’s surprisingly competent. Too valuable to kill, but he does need some discipline. So I’m clearing away anything that might interfere with the lesson plan.”
Arwen took a step forward.
Edwin stumbled back.
But his back met the cold, hard wall.
“Don’t come any closer!”
His words had no effect.
Before he realized it, Arwen was already right in front of him.
“Well, sorry. Don’t hold a grudge.”
“...This is a violation of our pact.”
“That was a pact with the church.”
She pressed a hand to his chest.
“We Apostles only overlap in our goals. We’re not exactly friends, you know.”
“Ghh...!”
Edwin ducked low and threw the barrier at her.
He didn’t expect to kill her—but if he could push her back with a shockwave and break through the wall, he might still escape and call for help.
Clang.
His desperate strike shattered like glass.
It was blocked—easily, casually—by a mere flick of her wrist.
And then… something emerged.
A grotesque monster had crawled out from Arwen’s shadow, massive and hulking.
It reached out and seized Edwin’s spell with one massive claw.
Crack.
A single squeeze and the barrier disintegrated, like paper under a boot.
“Eat.”
Her face twisted in disgust—just the fact that he dared to resist seemed to offend her.
The creature turned toward Edwin.
Its enormous jaw opened wide… and devoured him whole.
“AAAAAHHH!”
His final scream was torn from him—only to vanish the moment the beast’s mouth closed shut.
All that remained in the room was the sickening chew, chew of grinding jaws.
Arwen took a seat on the desk where Edwin once sat and rested her chin in her hand, looking thoroughly bored.
“Besides,” she muttered, “I’ve always hated pointy-eared bastards.”
***
The monster took its time finishing the meal.
After all, it had devoured an elven elder who had lived for centuries. It would take a while to digest all that power.
“Chew thoroughly, Sepia.”
Arwen gently patted the creature’s head, and Sepia growled with affection, nuzzling her hand.
“Ugh. Must be because he was old—he tastes like mildew.”
She tapped her fingers against the desk in irritation, clearly displeased.
After a few more minutes, she slouched back into the chair, legs swinging lazily.
Her eyes drifted to the clock on the wall.
Dawn had already broken.
Right on time.
As if summoned, a small lark fluttered toward her.
A familiar—one of the magical messengers frequently used by mages to communicate.
It perched on the edge of the desk and chirped—its song quickly transforming into a low, human voice.
[Are you prepared?]
“Mhm.”
[What of Edwin?]
Arwen glanced at Sepia, who was still busy chewing.
“He’s… in digestion.”
[Haaah. I see. This will be quite the scandal if the other Apostles find out.]
“None of your business, is it?”
[Well, no…]
The lark tilted its head left and right before continuing.
[Everything is ready on my end. Once you create a diversion, I’ll begin my part.]
“Are you sure about Escoval defecting?”
Arwen’s thoughts briefly drifted to that night—to Freud.
The mood had been… odd.
He hadn’t submitted a routine report. He had killed Slane.
And he didn’t tremble at the sight of her anymore. That alone was strange.
She’d considered it nothing more than a rebellious streak from a disobedient pet.
But the spy embedded in the imperial palace had confidently assured her otherwise.
Freud Escoval had rejected the covenant.
He had chosen to side fully with the princess.
And that meant Arwen wasn’t about to sit back and let it slide.
[I tested the waters. It’s confirmed.]
“Hmm. If you say so, I’ll trust it. And our message—was it delivered loud and clear?”
[I’d say severing a hand made for quite the warning. Though… I didn’t expect him to block the blade with his bare hand.]
“Ha! Typical brute. That’s so Escoval.”
Arwen stood up from her seat.
It was time to get things moving.
“By the way, how do you plan to isolate the princess?”
[Already handled. I used her personal head maid.]
“The head maid? That woman’s served the imperial family her whole life. She gave in that easily?”
[There are always ways in negotiations. Just so happened she has two young daughters.]
“...Now that’s nasty.”
Arwen smirked faintly.
“But I like it.”
The lark bowed its head politely in response.
[And what will you do about Freud Escoval?]
“Hm?”
[The Church doesn’t let traitors live. That’s our way, isn’t it?]
Arwen’s expression darkened.
“I’m not killing him. Escoval is mine.”
Out of all the beasts she raised, Freud was one of her favorites.
There was something exhilarating about taming a dog that looked like it might bite your hand off at any second.
It was one of her rare hobbies.
“Alright then. Let’s get started.”
With a flick, she dismissed the familiar and stepped out of the office.
The hallways were quiet—thanks to the suspended council session.
She wondered for a moment how to cause the most noise.
‘Should I trigger an explosion? Or maybe grab someone and rip them apart?’
While she was pondering her options—
Shrrk.
The distinct sound of a sword being drawn cut through the silence.
“Who are you?”
“…Oh?”
Before she realized it, a female knight with long golden hair had stepped into her path.
The knight crouched low, sword aimed squarely at Arwen, ready to strike at a moment’s notice.
One look at her stance told Arwen all she needed to know—this woman was no amateur.
She’d reached a high level of mastery.
Perfect warm-up.
“Perfect timing. You’ll do.”
“I’ll ask again. Identify yourself.”
Arwen tilted her head slightly.
“Hmm… Assassin?”
The word had barely left her lips when the golden-haired knight lunged.
---The End Of The Chapter---
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