公和我在厨房里添

"...It was at the news of the Eight Heavenly Kings of Lucrauv first being established--as some of you might recall, King Held was less than pleased to hear of an elite, prestigious group composed solely of otherworlders being formed by the kingdom most openly rebellious against Mastorn. That fury turned into unrest, and that unrest turned into a job for the Argonauts."

As Bulsteighn began speaking, folding his massive arms across his chest that could support a valley of mountains, the council listened intently.

"Who could forget the plague that group set on the King's mind...I've been with Held since he was but a boy. Not once in my entire lifetime serving as he and his father's closest advisor did I see a King fall under such stress; his hair grayed and his face wrinkled…"

Lord Kriegerhardt spoke as if reminiscing memories as dreadful as unplucked weeds; shaking his head slowly as all others remained silent before him.

"Ah, forgive this old fool...continue on, Lord Bulsteighn."

"Mm. Frankly, even if the Eight Heavenly Kings were otherworlders--prosecuting them was out of the picture. At least, that much was discovered from our first and last mission to hunt down the Eight."

Bringing this topic to the table, Bulsteighn's eyes took on a somber, more quiet feel as he looked at the glistening furniture as memories flooded to the forefront of his mind.

"If memory serves...this was "Operation Jaeger", right?"

Lord Moresbarrow spoke as he ran his fingertips protected by a silken, silver glove across his chin. Audible gasps released from the silent council members before Lionsdale interjected with his voice that overshadowed any other.

"Oh! I remember hearing of that one--the largest scale operation conducted by the Argonauts; unforeseen as they tend to work solo or in small groups, hoh. That operation was kept neatly kept under wraps from the public--still is."

Stroking his beard happily at this topic, Lionsdale's voice was enough to make a vein press against the Argonaut commander's forehead before he resumed his rightful time of speaking.

"...That's right. A whole ten Argonauts were sent to Lucrauv by order of King Held himself to execute the Eight Heavenly Kings; it was a hunt done in the name of King Held himself. At the time, I was a hot-headed kid who was raring for a good fight--so I happily obliged the order."

"Was" hot-headed…? Lloyd thought.

"However, on that day, we faced utter annihilation. While we managed to execute two of the eight--we were decimated once the numbers got a bit more even. I was one of two who made it out that day…though I received a parting gift from one in their ranks--one from a man they referred to as "Doraku". I'll never forget the sharpness of his blade; not that I have any choice in the matter..."

A frustrated aura exuded from the veteran Argonaut as he revealed the so-called gift, presenting a lengthy scar beneath the collar of his feathered coat that seemed to stretch far across his chest.

"Neat story--though, I'm failing to see what this has to do with, oh, I don't know--child trafficking?"

Alexander asked with his cheek resting against the palm of his sable gauntlet, fiddling with a hanging strand of his oak-brown hair. Though his words lacked any tact, it was clear by the gnawing silence that the council seemed to agree with this question.

"If you'd let me explain, boy--after facing such a disgraceful defeat, King Held was not happy with the results. Though, Lord Kriegerhardt, fortunately, talked him down from his more outlandish plans in mind. As a compromise, the Argonauts were ordered to begin inducting whatever talent we could find to bolster our ranks in the event of Lucrauv launching an assault."

To Lloyd, he always took the stern, beast-like commander to be one of few, concise words, but the discussion of these buried memories drew forth a vindictive side of himself as he spoke of this topic. For the majority of the council, most of the members seemed interested in the topic--dutifully listening and nodding while some more outspoken, abrasive council members made it painfully aware they didn't care one bit.

"That was then, this is now; is this method of recruitment still being used by your bunch, Lord Bulsteighn?"

Asking with his usual, bravado tone, Lionsdale's question was met with an obvious sigh laced with Bulsteighn's utmost, tiresome frustration as he shook his head.

"...No. The elf, while talented, never had it in him to kill--though he was rarely even sent onto missions, most ended in failure from allowing his target to escape. With Avdima, well, he was a one-in-a-million talent, but what he was born with in magical talent, he lacked in emotion--the kid acted on his own. That's the reason those two were sent out in the first place; if they succeeded, then great--but if they failed? Well, that's the end of that."

Ending his lengthy explanation, the burly, crimson-haired Argonaut commander let out a hearty sigh as he massaged his temple, resting his hammer-like elbows against the table.

"Was that answer satisfactory for those of the council?"

Kriegerhardt asked as he scanned his hollow eyes across the width of the room, accepting the silence and sparse nods as confirmation.

"Now then, let us move on to the true reason for this meeting; Plan Cataclysm. Under unanimous vote, this safety net was agreed upon to be used in the event of this operation led by the passed Avdima resulted in failure. Alyria, if you would."

By the elderly man's call, the silver-haired archmage stood up from her seat without hesitation, looking forward with her dazzling, sky-blue irises as she cleared her throat.

"As you may know, the nature of Plan Cataclysm is not only to extinguish the enemy Outlanders in one fell swoop, but also to erase the existence of the Argonaut's failure--by the grace of the Veils of The Cosmos."

Speaking with a proud, almost smug smile on her face, Alyria placed her hand over her chest as she spoke with prideful fervor.

Veils of The Cosmos...The archmage branch really is full of arrogant nobles, isn't it? Lloyd thought.

"Urr, forgive my interruption...but isn't the destruction of Grandueve a bit counterintuitive?"

A meek-looking man with shaggy, ginger locks asked, adjusting his round-rimmed glasses and shrinking a bit under Alyria's sharp, downward gaze. Looking at the man, Lloyd couldn't recognize him in the slightest--in fact, he didn't look like he belonged in such a carnivorous environment filled with the most powerful entities in the kingdom.

His garments didn't help this notion; wearing a simple, beige tunic with the only exuberance to show of being the gilded amulet hanging around his neck. Most contrary to the overwhelming number of Mastornians in the room, his skin took on a rich, light-brown complexion.

Who the hell is he? Lloyd thought.

"Prince Aarav…"

Lord Krierhardt muttered, sounding somewhat displeased to hear the man speak--whether it was his untimely interruption or the very fact it was him who spoke, that was unknown.

"Prince"? Him? And that name...Is he from--, Lloyd thought.

"I'll answer that for you, Sir "Honored Guest"; I don't expect someone from Derjun to know the ins and outs of Mastorn's trade routes, but Grandeuve has been a dead area for a long time."

Lord Bornstill answered without any respect to his words, fiddling with the jewelry around his digits before flipping his locks.

"...Adding to that, that region is overrun completely by beasts; anything of actual value has been ransacked by goblins--as I'm sure you're aware, Lord Bornstill."

Retaining his prevalent, stoic expression as he kept his chin resting atop his hands, the more tactful lord who specialized in spices gave a more succinct answer to the foreign prince.

"Ah, I see...so it's not much of a loss for Grandueve to be wiped off the map? Unfortunate for the creatures there…"

Prince Aarav spoke genuinely with a slight frown as he shrugged his shoulders--earning a hearty laugh from Lord Bornstill who quickly seized such an expression of joy after receiving a glare from the elderly head of the council.

"I'm sorry, it was just a silly thing to say…"creatures", what good does that do?"

"...Enough, Lord Bornstill. Continue, Alyria."

It was clear even to the most inexperienced of eyes that Lord Kriegerhardt's authority was absolute; guiding full attention back to the prestigious archmage as she took up the mantle of speaking once more, clearing her throat again for good measure.

"To further clarify, Plan Cataclysm will be carried out under my command, alongside a group of the most prolific archmages within the Veils of The Cosmos; to enact it, the disaster-level spell, "Ad Nihilum", will be cast above Grandueve."

As she spoke of this sacred magecraft, the coveted archmage waved her hand as the light filling the prestigious council room dimmed, manifesting a presentation of the spoken about plan in the form of a small-scale replica of Grandueve.

Doing his absolute best to try and not look like an enamored child by this display of magecraft, Lloyd kept his posture high while watching carefully--his eyes being peeled onto this display.

"Without failure, Ad Nihilum will reduce the entirety of the valley into nothingness; anything that can see the spell itself will be in range of its nefarious maw. That is why--"

"...An unexpected development."

Interrupting the archmage who seemed almost sexually pleased when speaking of her plan, Gaol spoke with a peculiar expression--as if confused by the sight only he could see.

"Gaol? What is it?"

Recognizing the significance of the pale man's sudden words, Lord Krigerhardt's eyes showed themselves past their sunken state as all eyes fell on the hooded figure.

"The Outlanders...are gone."

As those words laced with frosted enigmatic left the clairvoyant man's lips, it seemed as if time froze within the council; every soul seemed to stand still as the white of each person's eyes was shown in full--only the prince from Derjun seeming indifferent to this news.

"...Gone? Explain your claim, Gaol!"

With eyes more expressive and lively than ever, Krigerhardt's hoarse voice reached a booming height as even Gaol gritted his teeth, chattering them as the information he held within his mind finally left his lips.

"Until now...I was unable to see into the valley as a burst of magical energy intercepted my view...but I see it now…! Every Outlander has left Grandeuve--as if vanishing from thin air; there are no tracks to be seen!"

Sliding the words between his sable teeth, Gaol's words were deathly found upon the ears of those present in the council meeting; most of all affected by this news was the black-feather cape wearing Argonaut leader who shot up from his seat with a thundering presence.

"Wah…!"

Falling over backwards from his boss' sudden rise, Lloyd landed on his rear, though luckily--most eyes were still either on Gaol or not on Bulsteighn himself as the bubbling anger from the vermillion-bearded man was palpable.

"Outrageous! I will not accept this! Gaol, you--!"

"Seize this, Lord Bulsteighn! This is not a hall for barbaric quarrels and out lashes!"

Even Lord Kriegerhardt's command wasn't enough to settle the disgruntled Argonaut, who with a single step of his boot, erupted a series of cracks through the marvelous marble of the floor beneath his step.

"Gaol…! You had one task—one!"

As a fiery aura encapsulated the seething, boulder of a man, all of that bubbling rage vanished just as quick as it came as a figure was suddenly at Bulsteighn's side

Wielding a blade a breath away from his flesh, the swift figure put an end to the sudden rage.

"It'd be in your best interest to sheath that anger in the presence of Elias' retainer."

Being watched keenly by those sharp, glacier eyes belonging to the right-hand man who came from Lord Kriegerhardt's side, Bulsteighn regained his lost breath before resigning his frustration.

"…it seems the rumors aren't just big talk. "Baiza The Immaculate"; the Victorious Seven really are a sharp bunch."

With a sigh, Bulsteighn grunted his words out as the pristine blade inlaid with gilded steel and beautiful gems was removed from its hostile position.

Without any response of his own, the man retaining the title of "The Immaculate" returned his blade to its sheath that was decorated with a pattern resembling the scales of a platinum dragon.

It was clear by any eyes in the room by his all-white, wrinkle-free uniform that he was indeed a knight belonging to the prestigious rank of the Seven; swiping his navy-blue locks before returning to the elderly man's side.

"Come on, Lazlo!"

"…m-my name is Lloyd!"

Responding as he was hoisted up like a fallen toddler by his burly commander, Lloyd stumbled onto his feet as he followed the vermillion-haired man towards the exit of the prolific tower.

"I expect the King himself will have some words for me…"

Bulsteighn scoffed as he marched down the steps; the scrawny Executioner was unable to decide if those words were meant for him or if the commander simply was speaking his thoughts.

"Enough is enough; we've faced enough failures. We're the Argonauts--the pride of Mastorn, the terror to Outlanders; these shortcomings are nothing less than disgraceful. From henceforth, we will take things to the next level."

With the Argonaut commander's leave from the councilroom, the atmosphere amongst the members shifted as Lord Kriegerhardt stood from his seat.

"This mustn't leave this room; Plan Cataclysm will continue without any further delay."

"Huh?"

"Why?!"

A few amongst the council raised their confusion as widened eyes set on the form of the elderly man heralded as the retainer of Elias.

"...As Alyria herself said; it is up to us now to clean up the mistakes of the Argonauts. They stand as one of the almighty pillars of this kingdom--such a failure would challenge the integrity of Mastorn unnecessarily. There must not be a single spec of evidence left of this operation; Alyria, I leave it to you."

"Yes, Lord Kriegerhardt."

Bowing as her silver locks cascaded down her slender, yet proud shoulders, Alyria accepted this duty before snapping her fingers--vanishing by assistance of magecraft.