Pushing open the gilded door, intricately carved with elaborate patterns and gleaming with a lavish luster, the heavy hinges let out a low, drawn-out groan.
One by one, everyone filed through the doorway.
Inside the hall, a colossal crystal chandelier hung like an inverted constellation of stars, casting a soft, radiant glow that made the surrounding walls shimmer with iridescent light.
The group slowly took their seats around the enormous round table at the center of the hall. Its surface was inlaid with multicolored gemstones that sparkled brilliantly under the chandelier’s illumination.
“I’ve called you here today to discuss some recent developments.”
The “Merchant,” clad in robes embroidered with gilded patterns, raised his chin slightly. With a casual wave of his hand, he gestured for the “Scholar,” who had just entered and was bundled up so tightly he looked like a stuffed dumpling, to take a seat.
The “Scholar’s” robe was drab in color and coarse in texture, a stark contrast to the luxurious attire of everyone else around him.
The “Merchant” was about to continue when a voice cut through the slightly stifling air of the hall like an arrow.
It came from a transmigrator seated directly across from him—Sphinx of “Expectation.”
Sphinx leaned back in his chair with effortless grace, his cascade of golden hair spilling loosely over his shoulders. His features were as exquisitely carved as a statue’s.
“For the first time in all these years, so many of us have gathered together.”
Sphinx’s voice was soft and melodic, carrying an almost intangible charm that unconsciously drew people’s attention.
At his words, the other six nodded in response, their expressions ranging from faint smiles to subtle gravity.
“Ah, every—everyone… yes, this is indeed… the first time we’ve all been together in over thirty years. Heave-ho!”
A timid voice chimed in, so faint it was barely audible unless one listened closely. The group paused for a moment, then strained their ears, finally turning their gaze toward what seemed like an empty seat nearby.
After a long moment, a tiny figure, barely four feet tall, struggled to haul herself up by the edge of the table. Her pure white hair, fluffy as a cloud, peeked over the rim.
“Axia of ‘Benevolence,’ you haven’t changed a bit.”
The “Merchant” looked at Axia with a faint smile.
“People… people don’t change easily. And for those of us who’ve gained eternity, change is even harder.”
Seeing that a side conversation seemed to be brewing, the “Merchant” gave a light cough. The low sound echoed through the hall, instantly snapping everyone’s attention back to him.
“I’ve gathered everyone here today to discuss two very important matters.”
The “Merchant’s” gaze slowly swept across all those present.
Those in attendance were:
Pristan of “Fairness.”
Suvia of “Discretion.”
Axia of “Benevolence.”
Sphinx of “Expectation.”
Mithus of “Endurance.”
Morist of “Perseverance.”
And… the nameless “Scholar.”
There were nine seats around this table in total, meant to be filled by nine people. Unfortunately, Kerk of “Confidence” had been killed half a year ago.
Though when he was appointed to Mobis City six months prior, he had left a portion of his power in the royal capital, so it wouldn’t be long before he was resurrected among them.
For now, Kerk’s seat held only a flickering soul flame, barely clinging to life.
“So, what’s this about?”
Sphinx asked with a smile, idly twirling a strand of his beautiful golden hair. He possessed an exquisite visage—though that was only a fraction of what “Expectation” had granted him.
The “Merchant” nodded and prepared to steer the conversation back on track.
“I wanted to discuss the uprisings over the past six months, as well as that ‘Chosen One’—the Killing Machine.”
“That’s got nothing to do with me. My tower wants no part of that person. Besides, didn’t the divine envoy say we weren’t supposed to meddle with such things?”
The “Scholar” waved a hand dismissively, a trace of contempt flickering in his eyes. He could tell the “Merchant” was planning to intervene, but he wanted no part of it. He’d rather hole up in his tower and watch the mages bicker over their petty squabbles.
“I’d like to follow the envoy’s advice too, but… these uprisings keep escalating. Two cities in the north have been taken by those stubborn natives, and if they push just a few more cities forward, they’ll be at the gates of the royal capital.”
“The nobles have been getting restless, seeing us drag our feet. They’re weak, sure, but centuries of accumulated strength won’t be uprooted so easily. And with the war, our tax revenue has dropped by a full thirty percent this year.”
At that, everyone present couldn’t help but smirk inwardly. They all knew the “Merchant” valued money above all else—and that last line was his real reason for concern.
Before anyone else could speak, the “Merchant” laid out his solution.
“Basically, I set wages too low, workloads too heavy, taxes too high, and tax categories too numerous… so they’ve banded together to rebel against me. How frustrating. If I just raise wages a bit, lighten their work, lower taxes, and trim some tax categories, those ignorant rabble will settle down. But… that’s money out of my pocket!!”
With a resigned shake of his head, the “Merchant” winced as if in physical pain.
At that moment, Axia of “Benevolence” raised her hand. She seemed quite receptive to the “Merchant’s” idea—it would likely improve the lives of the people under her care.
Pristan of “Fairness,” however, felt Axia’s approach didn’t go far enough. He rose to his feet, standing tall and straight as a pine:
“Everyone should receive equal treatment—including us. That is true fairness.”
Sphinx of “Expectation” shot a disdainful glance at Axia and Pristan, a smirk curling at the corner of his mouth.
“These two ‘goody-two-shoes’ here are being willful, it seems, forgetting the gods’ expectations. I, on the other hand, think we should do nothing at all. Let the natives fight among themselves—it benefits the gods. And the stronger the gods grow, the stronger we become. I can clearly feel the gods drawing closer to us, and my ‘Divine Gift’ is becoming more powerful by the day.”
The rest seemed to agree with Sphinx’s view, eager for their own powers to evolve further, unwilling to be tethered to their own small domains.
“Still, we should be cautious—keep the uprisings somewhat under control. My territory has been caught in the crossfire lately. Mobis City really… set a fine example.”
The speaker was Suvia of “Discretion,” a woman who, much like the “Scholar,” preferred to hunker down within her own borders.
To prevent things from spiraling out of control—and to avoid Suvia and the others coming after him—the “Merchant” decided after weighing his options to ease up a bit on his oppressive taxes and slow the pace of rebellions and warfare.
He knew the difference between a full meal today and a steady supply tomorrow. All he had to sacrifice was a sliver of his own profit, and in return, he’d reap endless rewards down the line.
“Now for the next topic: that ‘Chosen One’—the Killing Machine. In the past six months, she has slain over 1,240 transmigrators, destroyed two ‘Scholar’ branch offices, and dealt repeated blows to ‘Merchant’ branches as well. Among us, Kerk fell to her hand as well, now reduced to nothing but a feeble soul flame.”
Suvia glanced toward the flickering flame on Kerk’s seat, where a faint phantom of his face could be seen. She gave a little wave toward the flame, and it shrank dramatically.
“Don’t you dare kill Kerk…”
Morist of “Perseverance,” who bore a set of thorns on his back, spoke in a low, grave tone at her antics.
Suvia immediately withdrew her hand, a sheepish look crossing her face as if to say she hadn’t done anything.
“This ‘Chosen One’—the Killing Machine—was able to kill Kerk. Granted, he was the latest among us to receive the gods’ favor, and his strength wasn’t particularly high… but he was still one of our top combatants. Without a doubt, this mage of unknown origin has become a threat to us.”
The “Merchant’s” gaze swept over everyone in the room.
All eyes turned to the “Scholar.” Since all mage affairs fell under his jurisdiction, any trouble stirred up by a mage was his problem to handle.
“But I have no idea where this enemy came from. There’s no such person under my command. The only intel we have that she’s a mage came from an escapee at the westernmost processing plant.”
Naturally, that was one of the “leaks” from Elbert’s Several “Chosen Ones” under his command who had learned of Renith’s movements in advance and slipped through the cracks.
“I heard she also had a hand in the Mobis City revolution…”
Axia seemed a bit timid, burying her face in her arms.
“Her path started from Mobis City, skirted around ‘Discretion’s’ domain, and headed straight for the territories of ‘Endurance’ and ‘Perseverance.'”
The “Merchant” tapped his fingers lightly on the round table, lost in thought.
“Based on my deduction, her target is most likely the royal capital. But because Suvia’s ‘Divine Gift’ is too bizarre, she’s avoided setting foot there, choosing instead to take a detour toward the capital. Though she has some strength, and I could suppress her if she came to me, this woman will inevitably disrupt our plans. The divine envoy told us not to interfere, but I believe…”
He swept his gaze across the room again, his meaning plain: he wanted Renith stopped in her tracks. He refused to let one bad apple spoil his scheme.
“For the sake of justice and fairness—and the order of this world—this woman must be eliminated.”
Pristan of “Fairness” immediately voiced his support. Since the “Merchant” had put it so bluntly, he naturally backed the idea.
“Still, we should be careful. Anyone who can take down Kerk is no pushover. Hmm… I think I’ll head back to my fortress. That’s the safest place.”
Suvia of “Discretion” turned her head away. Since the woman had bypassed her domain, what happened to the others was none of her business. If Renith didn’t provoke her, she wouldn’t lift a finger against her.
“Someone like that—I think we ought to show more tolerance. Her actions don’t seem that extreme to me; they can be overlooked.”
Mithus of “Endurance” felt that Renith could come and go as she pleased. So what if she killed a few people? With so many transmigrators around, a few deaths wouldn’t matter much.
“Everyone, please don’t fight. Maybe we can talk things out and resolve this?”
Axia of “Benevolence” suggested, but the “Merchant” brushed her off entirely.
“The gods will judge her. She is an enemy. Based on her route, I’ll go deal with her.”
Morist of “Perseverance” stood up, his frame towering and muscular.
“Hmm… I’ll go too.”
The “Merchant’s” gaze fell on the “Scholar,” who had two of his branch offices ransacked—so naturally, he agreed to help.
“Excellent. We must capture her.”
“Alright, Morist, come find me later.”
“As for the rest of you—meeting adjourned!”
