R-a - Volume 4 - Chapter 11 (in editing)

R-a - Volume 4 - Chapter 11 

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It didn't take much longer for Micheal to arrive at the Farian Council Chamber.

Outside it were several groups of Farian warriors, representatives of the various Tribe Leaders that were inside talking. Micheal glanced at the symbols on their clothes, noting that 12 of the 13 Tribes were present. The only one missing was the Kowalsi Tribe.

“Lord Justiciar!”

“L-Lord Justiciar!”

“Lord Justiciar, sir!”

A flurry of greetings rang out as Gregor led Micheal to the door. Micheal’s eyes widened slightly as he saw the literal wave of recognition and worship the Lord Justiciar was given.

‘Wow, the people really do adore him.’ It wasn’t a lie to call him the most renowned Farian. Powerful but friendly, strong but caring — he was a natural leader.

“They’re probably already going at it inside.” Gregor shook his head with a sigh, though he still managed to smile and wave at everyone greeting him.

Two Farians stood guard at the double doors that led into the dome-shaped building. The duo smoothly opened the doors as soon as Micheal and Gregor reached it, unleashing a wave of loud voices.

“…but that crosses the distribution ratio for the Reemer Tribe! We can’t accept…”

“…you even hear yourself?! Seriously?! Why, think of what…”

“…we please move on to the debate about the Rakkonian alliance proposal? We need to discuss the…”

“…”

‘Their soundproofing is excellent.’ Micheal’s first thought was an observation. He was a Master and yet couldn’t hear any of their voices until the door was opened. The building looked like a simple wooden dome on the outside, but clearly had significantly more thought put into its planning.

The doors shut behind Micheal as he walked into the large room. All the voices came to a pause as a flurry of eyes landed on both him and Gregor. Micheal returned their gaze with one of his own as he studied the occupants.

Sitting around a large wooden table were a mix of 13 Farians. Micheal could tell at a glance that most of them were strong, on the level of a First Rate Warrior. He saw several faces he recognized from the Great War, powerful Farian Tribe Leaders that were the bane of humanity.

In particular, his gaze landed on two specific Farians.

One was the Wise Lady, Myla Hannis. She was dressed in a simple purple gown that covered her from head to ankle, giving her a composed feel. Despite not being a Tribe Leader, he wasn’t particularly surprised to see her here. The title of Wise Lady didn’t only relate to research.

Myla smiled warmly when she saw him. He smiled back.

‘I’ll talk to her after the meeting.’ He needed to acquire Myla’s Beasts of Providence-tracking method, and what better way to get it than from the inventor herself?

The other Farian he kept an eye on was the closest thing the Lord Justiciar had to a ‘rival’ in terms of leadership.

A slim, handsome Farian with brilliant gold hair and bright yellow eyes. The man was dressed in a trim white shirt and flowing black pants, with a large, green longbow strapped to his back.

The Reginto Tribe’s Leader, Andron Galewing. He was known for being politically savvy and, after the Great War began, a ruthless archer that led the Aerial Division of the Farian Combined Army. He was killed by Baron Sansa in the original timeline, a year and a half into the war.

Every notable Farian figure was present except for the three hidden Shadow Captains and the Kowalsi Tribe Leader.

“Greetings, Lord Justiciar.” Andron was the first to speak. The other Tribe Leaders followed suit, some reluctant and begrudging while others glad and welcome.

Gregor nodded at them all and returned his own greetings before gesturing at Micheal next to him.

“I’m sure you’ve all heard about the Savior that did so much for us. Please allow me to introduce him to you all.” The Lord Justiciar cut right to the chase, before the Tribe Leaders could resume arguing.

The eyes of the Tribe Leaders felt like lasers piercing into his body as they all focused on him. Micheal didn’t flinch as he shrugged those gazes off and gave a slight, respectful bow, the proper form of formal Farian etiquette for a meeting like this.

“Good morning, Leaders of the Council. My name is Micheal, thank you for having me here.”

His greeting was met with widened eyes and a few surprised, but appreciative, nods. The Farians weren’t a very formal race, but that didn’t mean they welcome breaches of their etiquette. His actions were a minor thing, but led to a better first impression.

Andorn took the lead as he smiled at Micheal.

“On behalf of my fellow members of the Council, I’d like to extend our warmest regards to you, Micheal. What you have done for us is something we will never forget.” The other Tribe Leaders nodded in agreement.

‘Well then.’ Micheal thought,

‘It’s time to spoil everything.’ Micheal’s expression grew a little brighter.

People that made secret plans hated having those secret plans ruined.

Alongside that, if there was one thing people like that hated even more, it would have to be having those secret plans ruined and exposed for the world to see.

‘Let’s seize the initiative.’ Before the Council could thank him further or try to reward him, he began to speak again.

“I understand there is much the Council has to speak about today. Before anything, though, I’d like to share some urgent information.”

The Tribe Leaders all stared at him curiously. Andron, who had been about to speak, paused, caught off guard. The Reginto Tribe Leader blinked and then waved at Micheal to continue. While he wasn’t of higher rank than the other Tribe Leaders, it seemed that Andron served as the ‘voice’ of the Council when it came to leading debate.

“Thank you.” Micheal’s eyes gleamed as he immediately began to repeat what he had told Gregor on the way in.

“The Six Lords aren’t Byrens?”

“They’re Dark Wraiths? Aren’t those creatures supposed to be extinct?”

“What?”

“I’m not sure why this matters?”

He was met with a wall of confusion from the Tribe Leaders, which he expected.

‘Lead with the worst, finish with the best.’ It was a saying popularized by historians that described the propaganda spread by the Purgatory Church, straight from the toolbox of the Nirvana Saint.

Give the most shocking or hard-to-believe point at the start, then work backwards and explain everything as you went. If you finish your argument with solid points and evidence, it will resound in people’s minds and make your prior points feel more believable, even if you don’t have proper evidence.

“It matters because…” Micheal began, looking at each Tribe Leader pointedly,

“The humans that have been raiding your people are working under the orders of the Six Lords.” This was close enough to the truth to not matter. The Beasts of Providence shared some of the same goals as the Six Lords and were working in tandem.

A series of gasps and angry murmurs spread out among the Tribe Leaders. Myla and the Lord Justiciar remained silent as they studied Micheal, the two of them exchanging glances when no one else was looking.

“Explain.” Andron’s voice had lost all traces of warmth as he gazed at Micheal, his eyes serious and alert.

“First, there’s something you all need to know about Dark Wraiths. Normally, they’re ghostly, spiritual creatures that can materialize a tangible, physical body at will. However, the Six Lords are different.” Micheal reiterated on how they sealed themselves within the bodies of Byrens, causing them to fuse with those bodies and remain permanently physical.

“When the Dark Wraiths abandoned their Spiritual Form, they tore open enormous wounds in their Souls. These injuries are incurable and should have led to death within a dozen or so years.” Micheal held up a hand to stave off questions.

“Should have, I said. These 6 Dark Wraiths in question found a way around that…” He glanced around the Council, noting their attentive faces, as he went on,

“And that way is through death.” His words spawned another series of murmurs.

“After a being dies, these Dark Wraiths can absorb a small amount of innate energy that comes from a dead creature’s Soul.” It was something only materialized Dark Wraiths that had fused with a body could do.

“This energy can partially treat their injuries. It can’t entirely cure them, but it can abate their symptoms and keep them alive, and it's why they became the Six Lords.” Micheal took another glance around the Council Chamber. Several of the Tribe Leaders had dark looks on their faces as they began to comprehend what Micheal was saying.

“You all must have noticed how tense the atmosphere is here on the Second Layer. The Sects are constantly at odds with each other, breaking out into fights left and right.” Micheal’s words were sharp and gave no room for rebuttal. 

“The Six Lords have taken complete control of the Byren Race and have been manipulating them into constant, repeated warfare for hundreds of years.” Micheal paused briefly, to increase the impact of his next line.

“And now, they are planning the biggest war this world has ever seen. A war that involves you, me, and everyone you know and love.” His voice echoed in a room that otherwise seemed frozen in silence.

Everything he said was true.

The advent of huge numbers of new beings on the Second Layer had given the Six Lords an opportunity they never dared to dream of.

Their injuries could be gradually staved off, but no matter how much energy they absorbed from dead Byrens, it was never enough. The Dark Wraiths had been in the midst of desperately scheming against each other when hundreds of thousands, and soon millions, of new beings dropped into their laps.

They had driven hundreds of thousands of Byrens to their deaths but still failed to cure themselves.

What if they killed millions of beings? Tens of millions? 

They were creatures that had betrayed their own species just to slightly increase their odds of survival. There was no level they wouldn't stoop to, including mass genocide. 

Regardless of the results, Micheal could not afford to allow the Great War to happen again. The losses humanity accrued were catastrophic and set them back years. If it happened again, it was as good as raising a white flag for their future. 

“Even if what you say is true, how can we believ- hmm, wait…” Tribe Leader Andron cut himself off mid query as he stared at Micheal and pondered silently. Discussion broke out among the other Tribe Leaders as they talked back and forth about what Micheal said.

Micheal stared at Andron calmly, guessing what he was thinking.

‘I have no reason to lie to you all. No matter how surprising or unbelievable it may seem, I’m the Savior that risked his life to stop an enormous attack on your people.’

The Farians were firm believers in actions speaking louder than words, and Micheal had already proven himself to an immense degree.

“It goes beyond just the Six Lords.” Micheal broke into the discussion as he continued speaking.

“There is another enemy that we can’t ignore. The mastermind who helped direct the humans that raided your people.” A cold smile appeared on Micheal’s face.

‘Attack where your opponent can’t defend.’ It was another mantra pulled from the toolbox of the Nirvana Saint.

The Vile King had ruined Micheal’s reputation among humans to an almost irreparable degree. It was to the point where he appeared to be driven into a corner, hunted and hated by everybody.

However…

‘Who said I had to rely only on humans?’

“There’s one other enemy we have to be aware of. A vile man by the name of Constantine Lancaster…”

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