Ghislain turned his head and asked, "Ereneth, what do you make of those words? Do you understand their meaning?" He hesitated, noticing something off about Ereneth’s expression. But Ereneth quickly masked it, twisting her lips into a smirk and letting out a mocking laugh. "You two must be quite the close friends. Truly inseparable, it seems." "What are you implying?" "It’s amusing. Both of you spout such nonsense. Is that kind of delusion contagious among friends?" "..." "I’m at a loss for how to even respond. The idea of a saintess who saved the world suddenly appearing to him and making cryptic remarks—do you think that makes any sense?" Ghislain shrugged at her retort. They had far too little information about the war from a thousand years ago. All they could do was piece together the evidence they had. "Well... we don’t know much about it." "I have nothing further to say. As for the energy, consult the mages and conduct research. If it truly came from Arterion, it’s unlikely to be anything good." Ereneth pressed her fingers to her temples and closed her eyes, looking utterly fatigued. "I’d appreciate it if you left now. Listening to such absurdities one after another has given me a headache." "Ereneth." "Enough. I don’t want to discuss this any further." "..." "Overthinking clouds your judgment. Find the adversary, kill him, and it’s over. That is the ‘only’ way to preserve peace." With that, Ereneth turned her gaze back to the window, making it clear she had no intention of continuing the conversation. Ghislain clicked his tongue softly before speaking. "It’s been a while since everyone’s gathered. Why not join us for the banquet?" "I’d rather rest." "There’s plenty of fresh vegetables, too." "...Leave." Ghislain shrugged as ❖ Nоvеl𝚒ght ❖ (Exclusive on Nоvеl𝚒ght) if there was nothing more he could do and rose from his seat. For some reason, Ereneth seemed deeply angry. As he turned away, his expression hardened. Her reaction is sharper than usual. It was clear that Ereneth became unusually sensitive whenever the topic of the past arose. Though her logic was sound, Ghislain couldn’t shake the feeling that she was still hiding something. His doubts remained unresolved. "The only way," huh? The way she had emphasized that phrase made it sound as though other methods might exist. There was no reason to stress that it was the "only" way unless alternatives were conceivable. Ereneth seemed desperate to end things quickly—just as Arterion had been. Julien followed Ghislain out. Since Ereneth had claimed ignorance, they would need to explore other avenues. The theory that the energy was a remnant of the force binding Arterion seemed the most plausible. Using that as a starting point, they resolved to investigate further. As Julien was about to take a step, Ereneth spoke. "Julien." He stopped and turned his head. Ereneth was still staring out the window, her gaze fixed on the world outside. Without looking at him, she continued. "I have not yet completely dispelled my doubts about you." "..." "If that energy... ever tries to consume you, come to me immediately." "..." Ereneth slowly turned her head, her indifferent eyes meeting Julien’s. "Others may be too weak-hearted to kill you, but... I’ll handle it myself." "...Understood." Julien, as always, responded simply and left. Even after the two had departed, Ereneth stared at the closed door for a long time before finally closing her eyes and pressing her fingers to her temples. "I’m so tired..." She no longer wanted to discuss the past. And... She hoped that the remnants of the saintess would finally disappear from this world. *** The banquet meant to welcome back the returning heroes had unexpectedly turned into a grand celebratory feast. This was due to the nobles of the capital doing everything they could to attend, swelling the event’s scale. Although the kingdom's resources were still stretched thin, and the banquet table wasn’t lavishly set, no one seemed to care. They hadn’t gathered for the food but to catch a glimpse of the returning heroes. “Oh, Your Grace! Surely the blessings of the goddess will rain down upon someone as great as you who has spread her glory!” Porisco, now an archbishop and officially recognized as the “Saint,” stood before Ghislain, practically gushing. He had been the first to approach Ghislain, eager to flaunt their supposed closeness. “From the moment we received the ‘revelation’ of the goddess together, I knew this day would come!” “Ha, haha...” “And weren’t we the ones who first captured the inquisitor of the Salvation Order, ‘together’ as allies!” “Well... yes, I suppose.” Porisco had indeed been present during the battle against Lavier, the inquisitor of the Salvation Order who had first appeared in the capital. Though he hadn’t actually “captured” Lavier alongside Ghislain, he skillfully twisted his words to imply otherwise. Porisco was overjoyed. The terrifying war had ended, and now he stood as an archbishop and a saint. Since inadvertently saving orphans during Berhem’s reign of tyranny, Porisco had been showered with endless praise. The fleeing archbishop and high-ranking priests had all been excommunicated, leaving no one to obstruct his rise. "Partnering with Duke Fenris back then was the best decision of my life! What a stroke of genius!" Of course, in reality, he’d been forced into the partnership, but it had completely transformed his fate. Porisco, ever skilled at navigating politics, had leveraged his connection with Ghislain to ascend to his current position and solidify his authority. Only after Porisco left were the other nobles able to approach Ghislain. “Congratulations, Your Grace.” “I can’t tell you how anxious we’ve been.” “Of course, we always knew Your Grace would triumph in the end.” The nobles bombarded Ghislain with compliments and flattery, many of them people who had previously been his harshest critics. "Damn it! I have no choice but to acknowledge him now." "How did things turn out like this?" "Better make amends while I still can!" Those who had badmouthed Ghislain at every banquet now didn’t dare say a word against him. They knew better than to risk their lives on such foolishness. The people’s loyalty was firmly with the new dynasty. Ghislain had unmatched strength and legitimacy. Notably, however, noblewomen no longer swarmed around Ghislain. "Damn... I should’ve secured him back then." "How distant you’ve become now." "I should’ve forced a marriage when he was just a northern barbarian." They had tried courting him when he was merely a count, but now he was a grand duke. Approaching him as they had before was unthinkable. Instead, their attentions turned to others. The young noblemen, too, followed suit. This banquet wasn’t just for Ghislain—it was a celebration of all the war heroes. Unsurprisingly, Julien was the center of attention. However, his cold, stoic demeanor kept most people from daring to approach him. "How can someone look like that?" "My heart feels like it’ll burst just looking at him!" "An exiled prince of Turian? What an incredible background." Those surrounding Julien were struck speechless, unable to do anything but stare. It was as if they were in a separate world. Julien himself seemed indifferent, quietly sipping his drink. When his gaze briefly met that of a noblewoman, she turned bright red and fainted on the spot. “What happened? Someone collapsed! Get her out of here!” “Why is the young lord next to her fainting too? What is with this guy?” Julien’s overwhelming charm seemed to ensnare everyone, regardless of gender or age. While Julien’s presence dominated the room, others also attracted attention. Gillian, for instance, was surrounded by nobles proposing remarriage, all desperate to forge connections with the extraordinary knight. Tenant, too, smoothly navigated the noble crowd, leveraging his western influence. Even Jerome received significant attention. “Oh my, how adorable.” “To think someone this cute is an 8th-circle mage!” “He’s like a mischievous little troublemaker.” Jerome, unused to such attention, turned bright red and froze like a statue. “Um, uh, th-thank you.” “Oh my, why are you so nervous?” “I... I don’t know...” “This must be your first banquet like this, right?” Many older noblewomen approached him, their polished manners leaving him utterly flustered. Meanwhile, Belinda found herself fending off countless noblemen. “Lady Belinda, may I have the honor of a dance?” “It’s an honor to meet someone more radiant than the roses in the garden.” “Your beauty illuminates tonight’s banquet.” “...” Belinda took a step back, her face showing clear disdain. Their advances were far too obvious. Previously, as Ferdium’s head maid, she had been ignored by the nobility. Now, she was celebrated as a hero who had helped secure victory in the war. She was an extraordinary being no ordinary noble could hope to rival. Countless young lords sought her favor, suffocating her with their advances. "This is driving me insane." Belinda pressed her temples, struggling to endure the headache brewing from their unrelenting pursuit. Their gazes burned with ambition. In Ruthania, Belinda and Vanessa were the only two female transcendents. Marrying either of them would elevate any family to unimaginable heights. No matter how many times Belinda rejected them, the suitors showed no signs of giving up. She had no escape. Vanessa faced a similar predicament, surrounded by nobles desperate to win her favor. However, when someone brought up magic, the atmosphere shifted instantly. While the noble had intended to use magic as a shared interest to break the ice, Vanessa responded earnestly. “Oh, that? It’s about capturing mana vibrations and transmitting them spatially, with periodicity determined by...” “...” “Not following? Okay, so the particle transmission depends on the direction of mana flow, which affects...” “...” Before long, Vanessa had launched into a full-fledged lecture on magic. None of the nobles dared interrupt her and were forced to endure the impromptu lesson. Kaor, meanwhile, reveled in the attention. “Hahaha! So there I was, slicing the dragon’s neck with my twin swords!” “Oh my, how impressive!” “Wow, Lord Kaor, you’re incredible. I want to be as strong as you.” “Of course, of course! I’m the strongest! Even the old man can’t beat me!” Kaor was thoroughly enjoying the attention he was receiving. He drank to his heart’s content, boasting about his exploits and reveling in the admiration of the crowd. Indeed, he was an easy target for the nobles. He readily answered any question posed to him, making him approachable. More and more nobles gathered around Kaor, hoping to win his favor. Other key figures who had participated in the war also found themselves swarmed by nobles. While they weren’t transcendent beings, they were still war heroes and pillars of the kingdom’s victory. The only exceptions were Parniel and Piote, the priests. Nobles greeted them politely but refrained from any flirtations. For clergy, maintaining a respectable relationship was enough. Of course, there were exceptions. “Piote! How about joining me on the terrace for a drink under the stars?” “No, no! I’m clearly the better choice! Let’s escape the goddess’s gaze and...” “Parniel! I’ve always preferred taller women...” Some overly drunk noblemen crossed the line and were promptly apprehended by temple knights. Ghislain, seated beside Zvalter, watched these antics with amusement as he chatted with his longtime friend. “Fighting is important, but sometimes you need moments like this to unwind.” Though many seemed to struggle with the chaos of the gathering, Ghislain considered it all a valuable experience. Suddenly, a sense of something missing caused him to tilt his head. “Wait... why hasn’t Alfoy shown up yet?” 𝒇𝓻𝓮𝓮𝙬𝙚𝒃𝒏𝓸𝙫𝒆𝙡.𝓬𝓸𝒎 With his growing reputation and widespread popularity, he should have been here by now, flaunting his achievements and charming the nobles. “Claude hasn’t appeared either,” Ghislain noted. Having gone straight to the banquet after meeting Ereneth, he hadn’t had a chance to see Claude beforehand. He had assumed they would meet here, but there was no sign of him. Zvalter cleared his throat meaningfully. “Ghislain, about that mage Alfoy...” “What now? Did he cause trouble again?” “Well... His reputation has taken a dive. He’s been causing so much grief that people are at their wit’s end.” “...Oh.” “Even the Tower Master can’t control him. He’s a war hero, but I think you should have a word with him.” “Phew...” Ghislain leaned back in his chair and let out a long sigh. Alfoy always managed to stir up trouble whenever given even a little freedom. Zvalter, sensing the need to lighten the mood, shifted the conversation. “Well, at least you have your steward, Claude.” “What about Claude?” “He’s incredibly diligent. As soon as he returned, he threw himself into work—handling bandit suppression, maintaining order, everything.” “Claude?” “Yes. I never would’ve guessed he was the type. But he’s been tirelessly working...” Ghislain frowned. Claude was competent, but this level of dedication was out of character. At Ghislain’s signal, one of his aides approached and whispered in his ear. “We intended to brief you after the banquet, but the investigation is complete.” The aide handed Ghislain a stack of documents, which he quickly skimmed. A smirk crept onto his face. So, Alfoy had caused trouble in the eastern regions, and Claude had stepped in to handle it. Now, Claude was running himself ragged trying to cover for his mistakes. Ghislain instructed the aide, “Let everyone remain in the dark for now. It’ll do them both some good to stew in their own messes.” “Understood.” Alfoy would continue struggling in the east, while Claude would anxiously work himself to exhaustion trying to replenish the treasury. In short, the two fools were reaping what they’d sown. Sometimes, the best approach was to let them learn their lessons. As Ghislain and Zvalter continued their conversation, Zvalter eventually asked about Ghislain’s plans for the near future. “I heard you’re organizing a pursuit squad to track down Duke Delphine and Judge Gatros. That will take time. What do you plan to do in the meantime?” Ghislain, already prepared with an answer, grinned sharply. “I’m clearing the Forest of Beasts.” That cursed forest, which had plagued his lands for generations—and which had once been known as the "Demon Realm" a thousand years ago—was now marked for destruction. Ghislain intended to erase it entirely.