The youth’s voice seemed to linger in their minds.
They were silenced by his words, cutting through their excuses and beliefs, forcing them to lower their heads and ponder upon their actions. Even ardent supporters of the crown, Fleetwood and Makarov’s minds were shaken in that moment. Was the origin of Aouine not the brightest era?
But they calmed down and reinforced their beliefs.
“The ancestral king’s ideals are lofty and admirable, but the era now is different from the era of the past.” The elderly scholar sighed: “To the very end, we cannot allow ourselves to abandon our plans because of the possibility of the Lionheart abandoning us.”
“Ideals will not change reality!” Makarov added to Fleetwood’s words with an indignant voice.
“Therefore you would answer the arrogant and ruthless nobles with your own coldblooded hubris. What is the difference between you and them?” Brendel answered with vehement displeasure. “The royal crown, the nobles, any of you, would not bring real change to Aouine, therefore your failure is assured. Even if you claim victory over Duke Arreck, are you capable of winning against Madara?”
“Stop your nonsense!” Makarov’s voice was like the grinding of teeth: “How would a kingdom splintered into political factions be able to fight against the invaders! This matter has nothing to do with you, nowpleasefulfill your promise and give the Golden Apple to us!”
Brendel’s body shook though he was trying to suppress his laughter.
“The royal faction allowed Madara’s invasion to come to pass! How would Aouine ever be able to repel the invaders? Your king betrayed Aouine! This Fairy’s Apple that is capable of changing a person’s destiny, but—” Brendel glanced sadly at Scarlett, before he raised his voice: “It won’t change a kingdom’s destiny. Maybe that sickly king of yours can survive, or that cowardly prince of yours might finally grow a pair of balls, but your actions will only hinder her first step—” (TL: Brendel is referring to the princess.)
“So,” Brendel placed the fruit back into his bag: “You’re not getting it.”
“You bastard!” Makarov bellowed angrily, his chest full of rage after being played by Brendel. Even though he knew that it was a huge possibility that Brendel was toying with him, it was his condescending tone that truly enraged him. The advisor known as the ‘Cunning Fox’ lost his wits and regained that identity of the former Grey Wolves Mercenaries’ commander, drawing out his sword.
The metallic clang rang out as he rushed towards Brendel—
The latter did not retreat or move, staring at him without unflinching eyes. When the blade reached the youth’s nose, a barrier with hexagon-like plates lit up as lights, with magic runes appearing in between the plates, appearing and disappearing quickly.
Fleetwood’s wrinkled face paled as though he saw a ghost.
“Ancient magic!” He squeezed out the words from his throat
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