Cleaver Of Sin

Chapter 678: A Change

As Asher was having a pleasant time with the villagers within the Separate Dimension, at the Wargrave Ducal territory, a meeting between all noble households was being held. Within a dimly lit room, a gigantic round table could be seen, and around it were over fifty noble households that made up the Zarethorne Empire, each seated according to status and influence, their presence filling the chamber with quiet tension.

Emperor Zolthemir Lux Vanthelmor sat with calm ease; despite what had happened the previous day and the losses he had suffered, he maintained the grace and authority of one who ruled above all, his posture upright, his expression controlled, betraying nothing of the turmoil beneath.

"As everyone knows, I called this meeting to discuss what the Vandross Empire has done; we are all here to offer our own thoughts and solutions," the Emperor spoke as he remained seated, his voice steady, carrying across the room with undeniable authority.

As the Emperor finished speaking, Baron Rivelle was the first to respond. "I say we retaliate; we can’t just sit back and watch them step into our Empire as they wish. Attacking not one, but eight noble households all at once is egregious," his tone firm, his anger barely concealed.

"I agree with Baron Rivelle’s words," Baron Whale stated as he sat calmly, his eyes shifting towards Baron Rivelle; as their gazes met, they nodded at one another in silent agreement.

"Baron Rivelle, everyone knows you are pushing for this simply because your household was affected this time. Fifty years ago, when the Velkarin Empire made a move against us, I remember you saying we should not rush the matter or an all-out war would erupt," a noble Count spoke from the side, his eyes turning to Baron Rivelle. "Has your mind changed over the years? Are you no longer advocating for peace?" his last words laced with mockery and sarcasm.

"I’m inclined to go with the Count’s words. Baron Rivelle, although you nearly lost your children, they are still alive and well. Although you’ve lost a lot of knights during the battle, I believe the Emperor was going to reward you at the end of this meeting for your losses; with that compensation, you can recruit new men. The Zarethorne Empire has no shortage of talent and people ready to become knights and serve noble households," a Viscount stated, as though he had just offered irrefutable wisdom.

Another Baron whose family had been attacked by the Vandross Empire banged the table with his fist as he spoke, "Has our Empire gotten so weak that we are here holding meetings? We should be attacking at this very moment," his voice low, yet brimming with anger.

Azaron, who had been silent the entire time, finally spoke. "Baron Shane, while I understand you are angry, I advise you and everyone else not to strike my table, as it is a gift given to me by my wife," his golden eyes shifting to Baron Shane, his tone calm.

Hearing Azaron’s words, Baron Shane’s anger momentarily vanished as he coughed awkwardly. "I apologise, Duke Azaron."

Azaron simply nodded and said nothing else; to him, this meeting was merely a waste of time. Although they were all nobles, he knew that after the lower nobles finished arguing, the ones who would ultimately make the decisions would be the Marquises, Dukes, and the Emperor, as they possessed far greater political power and military force than everyone else.

And so, minutes passed as the lower nobles argued back and forth among themselves, their voices rising and falling, while the Marquises and those above simply watched, as though they were parents observing children fighting over something trivial, already aware that none of them would have the final say.

After a moment, Duchess Syvrein Stormveil spoke. "This meeting is getting nowhere," her words immediately silencing every argument as all gazes turned towards her. "I say we attack, and the Stormveil family will be leading the charge this time," she stated with a regal tone.

"Why are you suddenly making a move, Duchess Syvrein Stormveil?" Duke Mauvrek Ravencroft asked, seeking to understand her reasoning, his expression thoughtful.

Duchess Syvrein turned towards Duke Mauvrek as she spoke, "It’s nothing major; we are a family that can manipulate blood, and we haven’t made blood flow in a while. It’s time we tapped back into our origin," she spoke indifferently, as though discussing something mundane.

Although her words were indifferent, everyone present could already imagine the ocean of blood that would flow if the Stormveil family truly made a move, the implications alone enough to unsettle even seasoned nobles.

"I have no objections to this," Duke Rhydion Silvershade stated with a calm tone, as he personally didn’t care whether they retaliated or not; he would simply align himself with whatever decision was made at the end of the day, and since a Ducal powerhouse was stepping forward, that decision was already leaning in a particular direction.

"I also hold no objection to this," Duke Mauvrek Ravencroft spoke as he gently patted a crow perched beside him, his expression relaxed.

All eyes turned to Azaron, awaiting his words, although the final decision still rested within the Emperor’s hands.

Azaron ignored them, his expressionless face turning in a random direction as he simply stared into space. Everyone’s gaze followed the direction he was looking, as though searching for something, but they sensed nothing, confusion beginning to settle.

Emperor Zolthemir Lux Vanthelmor opened his mouth to speak, but before he could, Azaron spoke, "Cindralis, while you may be called the Goddess of Space, that title is useless before me," his words flat and indifferent.

At Azaron’s words, everyone froze, their eyes snapping back to the direction he was looking, and at that exact point in space, a spatial tear ripped across reality as Cindralis stepped out with calm ease, her presence immediately commanding attention.

"The Immortal truly is here," a Baron spoke, awestruck by Cindralis’ beauty and presence, his voice barely above a whisper.

The Emperor stared at Cindralis as he spoke, "I thought you didn’t attend these types of meetings, Cindralis."

Cindralis broke eye contact with Azaron, her attention turning to the Emperor as she spoke, "I received some news yesterday, and since everyone is gathered here, now will be the best time to announce it and let everyone know," her voice alluring.

With that, all ears sharpened as none of them wanted to miss a single word.

A golden scroll appeared in Cindralis’ hand, drawn from a pocket dimension of hers; then she threw it to the Emperor as she spoke, "According to the words in that scroll, this year’s Empire-wide competition location has been changed to the Thalvorn Empire."

Emperor Zolthemir’s face twisted into a frown as he spoke, "They can’t do this; it’s our turn to host the event."

"Read the scroll I gave you, Zolthemir; all other three Empires voted on it and signed. There is nothing that can be done," Cindralis stated, then turned back towards her spatial tear, as though her task here was already complete.

"What reason was given for this?" Marquis Camber asked with noble calm, his tone measured.

"Internal instability within the Zarethorne Empire," Emperor Zolthemir, who had already read the scroll, replied as he gazed forward, his expression darkening.

Nobody needed to think too much to understand what instability was being referred to; everyone already knew, and so no one spoke. Besides, they had nothing to lose from this new development, only the Emperor stood to lose everything.

With that, Cindralis stepped into her spatial tear and vanished, leaving the room in a heavy silence.

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AUTHOR’S NOTE: Love you all to the moon and back.