Volume 7 Chapter 13: Barlon and Aurevia, Their Shattered Past
In a room supported by intertwining white roots and mycelium, a gentle light radiated from a hanging purple gemstone.
At the center of a square-shaped conference table, a projection crystal was active, displaying a three-dimensional image in the air above the meeting room.
Seated in a circle were many elves, either handsome or beautiful, dressed in simple yet elegant attire. They solemnly watched the unfolding scene in the projection.
'The enemy possesses unknown weapons. We must retreat immediately! Retreat at once!'
'Retreat! Immediately retreat!! Ahh, ahhhhhhh!!!!'
On the screen, a group of well-equipped elven soldiers, armed with [Elf Weapon], could be seen. Despite their fine equipment, their formation fell apart in an instant, shattered after a brilliant flash of light. Their strategic-level barrier magic was destroyed under the breath of a dragon.
Then, the screen went dark, leaving the entire conference room in a tense silence.
At the head of the table, a woman sighed.
She had long golden hair, wore a dark green gown and corset, and on her head sat a shimmering purple crystal crown.
This was none other than the current Elven Empress of the Braatio Empire, Gonarl Wazelle III.
The final defensive line formed by the elite legions had collapsed just before they reached the imperial capital.
At this rate, the creature that was supposed to be the "Hero" would reach the capital city of Carmel in half a day, threatening the core of high-elven culture and history.
What a monster.
To think that a single person could drive the entire country to the brink of destruction.
And the Vantinom-Bishop Branch Church had merely dismissed the matter, claiming that "the Hero is being controlled by the Demon King." After that, they washed their hands of the situation, continuing to demand that nations focus on hunting down the [Dawn Hunters], an anti-government organization... such irresponsibility! Are they trying to start a war?
The Elven Empress sighed, and the officials who had just witnessed the projection wore similarly complex expressions.
Under normal circumstances, with the country facing such a crisis, they should have immediately turned to the Empress for guidance.
Yet, strangely, none of them paid her any attention.
Instead, their gaze was fixed on the two seats to the left of the Empress, where a young man and woman sat.
The woman had delicate, refined features and exuded a gentle aura with every gesture. She wore a light green formal gown and a blue crystal crown on her head. Compared to the Empress's attire, hers appeared much more youthful.
In Braatio's high society, green gowns were traditionally reserved for those of the imperial line.
This woman was the heir to the throne, the next Elven Empress—Emily Waka.
"Your Highness, if I may be so bold, what should we do next?" one of the officials asked Emily.
With that official leading the way, all the other high-ranking officials also shifted their attention to Emily… or rather, to the seat beside her.
"My dear, what do you think we should do?" Emily said softly, smiling as she turned to the man sitting next to her, completely unbothered by the disrespectful behavior of the officials.
The man beside her had blue hair, sharp eyebrows like a hawk, and deep, commanding features.
Though he wore the same attire as the other officials, his aura was distinct.
Even though he sat in the third side seat, it was clear that he was the true core of this meeting.
Seated next to Emily, the two made a striking couple—talented and beautiful, a perfect match. If Walson were here, he might think, "These two look like the cover couple of a romance novel!"
"Lord Barlon, I believe we should begin evacuations…" one official began.
"I know," Barlon interrupted, raising his hand. His other hand rubbed his furrowed brow. "I'll handle what comes next. Just make sure the Carmel Imperial Guard is ready to deploy at any moment."
With that, Barlon stood up and left, leaving the officials in stunned silence. Emily stood as well, sticking her tongue out playfully before following him.
And so, the strange meeting ended. The officials filed out one by one, leaving only the Elven Empress behind, watching the departing figures with a complicated expression.
…
…
…
In a personal study somewhere in a mansion, Barlon, who had just finished the meeting, sat wearily in a soft chair, closing his eyes to rest.
Things were truly at an impasse. After all, the enemy was the "Hero controlled by the Demon King," the strongest warrior of the Vantinom-Bishop Branch Church... The only ones who might stand a chance against such an opponent were those old men at the Research Institute.
But... could he even persuade those ancient scholars who had lived so long that nothing but magic mattered to them anymore?
The complexities of the situation made it difficult to know where to begin...
"Ah, you must be exhausted. You've worked so hard, my dear. Is there anything I can do to help you?" Emily asked, her once formal and dignified appearance now replaced with a comfortable and casual dress.
Emily sat on Barlon's desk, gently comforting him with her gaze as she spoke softly.
Barlon sighed as he looked at her.
Even if he were to share all his troubles with Emily, she likely wouldn't be able to offer any meaningful solution.
Her limited perspective set her apart.
No matter how much she tried to act like a competent Empress who is capable of everything, deep down, she was still just a naive village girl who loved to help others.
But this situation was of his own making.
In pursuit of his ambitions, he had paid the price, and it's not right to include innocent people into it.
For generations, the Braatio Empire had always been a matriarchal society. As long as one was born female, no matter how foolish or incompetent, they had the right to inherit power, and naturally, the throne.
When he was young, Barlon, as a prince, resented the fact that simply not being female meant he could never ascend to the throne. Yet, because the elders at the Research Institute were all stuck in their traditional ways, he had no means of rebellion. So, he adjusted his goal.
To make the ruler his puppet—this was the best solution.
Since the current Empress had no female heirs, the throne would pass to his wife.
He once had a fiancée, a woman named Sharuru—no, now that she had been stripped of her title, she was known as Aurevia.
She was brilliant and politically savvy, a woman who had stood out in the fierce power struggles of the noble academy, even showing tendencies to rule over the entire institution. This alone demonstrated her talent in both politics and warfare.
But despite her cunning, she had a soft and endearing side, fully trusting her fiancé, Barlon.
Had she matured, she would have made a great Empress.
However, had things reached that point, his ambitions would have been thwarted. She was not someone he could easily control, and Barlon knew this well. He had to eliminate that uncertainty before it grew.
Thus, she was stripped of her [Elf Weapon] and exiled to Teigitan under the guise of studying abroad.
Yet, that decision became his eternal nightmare.
In the quiet hours of the night, the image that haunted his dreams was always the same—her face twisted in despair, as though her entire world had crumbled, upon realizing his action.
It hurt.
Yes, he had loved her.
It was because of these suppressed emotions that he had risked exposing his ambitions and ordered three platoon of secret elf shadow guards to follow her secretly to Teigitan and ordered them to protect her at all cost, even if it meant their death.
Hearing reports about her well-being from those shadow guards was his only solace. But over a year ago, those guards had been discovered by Teigitan. Since then, he had heard nothing about her.
He felt immense sorrow at the time—not because his plan to launch a military campaign against Teigitan to solidify his puppet Empress's reign had fallen through.
Surprisingly, despite the cold-hearted nature he had developed for the sake of his ambition, he found himself grieving for her.
Where was she now?
Is she safe? Is she well?
What feelings did she hold for him?
...It was probably hatred. Deep, searing hatred, after such a betrayal.
As these thoughts crossed his mind, a subtle emotion flickered in Barlon's eyes. He stood up, walking over to a longbow mounted on the wall, gently running his fingers along its frame.
If only he had the chance to return this bow to her.
"Dear? What's wrong?" Emily asked, her voice filled with concern.
"It's nothing." Barlon closed his eyes, his tone calm and unwavering. "Notify the ministers. Have my set of [Windborne Armor] prepared. I will personally lead the troops in the upcoming battle."
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