Chapter 418: The Mighty First Elder
The First Elder sat quietly throughout the growing debate, his fingers loosely interlocked and resting atop the black obsidian table, his gaze unchanging and impassive as he allowed the others to exhaust their arguments, for he was not a man who chose to speak early, but rather one who preferred to speak last, at the precise moment when the room was divided and the outcome uncertain, so that his words would carry the most weight.
"Alright, silence in the chamber please, silence in the chamber..." he finally said, rising slowly to his feet with the calm authority of someone who did not need to raise his voice to command it, and at once, the elders fell quiet, the scattered hum of private discussions evaporating as all eyes turned towards the head of the table, waiting with measured anticipation for what he had to say.
"I’ve heard many meaningful perspectives shared here today, and before we delve deeper into the heart of this debate, I feel compelled to first address the matter that lies beneath all of this: the Twelfth Elder’s failure to retrieve the scroll."
His tone remained measured, but the cold edge beneath it was unmistakable.
"In my eyes, this failure, despite the opportunity presented, reflects not just misfortune or miscalculation, but a fundamental lapse in foresight and strategic judgment. This was not a mission to be approached with a half-measured hand or trusted to improvisation, and for that, I must openly and firmly condemn the outcome."
The words, though spoken with a certain diplomatic restraint, carried enough sting to draw subtle shifts in posture from the Twelfth Elder, who lowered his head slightly under the scrutiny, as the rest of the chamber nodded along in collective approval, for the sentiment reflected the general mood surrounding the mission’s disappointing conclusion.
"I can only hope," the First Elder added after a pause, "that the Twelfth Elder takes this failure not as a defeat, but as a lesson, and allows it to serve as a catalyst for personal growth and maturity moving forward."
Having offered his obligatory criticism, thereby reaffirming his reputation as the neutral compass of the Council, the First Elder let the topic settle before shifting direction with a gentle clearing of his throat.
"Now... regarding the appointment of the Dragon."
He paused, letting the words hang just long enough to reset the mood of the room.
"I see merit in both candidates, and I discount neither of them. However, after weighing the arguments placed before us today, I find myself inclined to agree with the Third Elder’s assessment."
There was no need for dramatic flair, for his voice had already drawn the chamber into stillness.
"In this era, where theory and promise must bow to the pressures of reality, it is real-world accomplishments that stand as the truest measure of one’s talent. And when viewed through that lens, it becomes difficult to ignore a rather glaring truth that many of us have long been aware of, yet some have chosen, perhaps out of loyalty or political convenience, to overlook."
His tone sharpened ever so slightly, laced now with something far less forgiving.
"Aegon Veyr has not achieved his transformation naturally."
He smiled beneath his mask, a cold, amused smile that never reached his eyes, before continuing, now with pointed directness.
"I know this will not come as a surprise to certain individuals in this room—individuals who were already aware of this unlawful practice, but nevertheless remained silent. But for those of you who still sit in ignorance, allow me to enlighten you."
He reached beneath his robe, pulling out a neatly sealed envelope, and with one fluid motion, scattered its contents.
*SCATTER*
An array of photographs scattered across the council table, their glossy surfaces catching the overhead light as images of ritual markings, strange tattoos, and lifeless bodies splashed across the surface like spilled ink upon parchment.
"For those who demand proof before belief, let me assure you that I have come prepared. These images were not conjured by rumor or supposition. They are facts. Verified. Documented. And damning."
The chamber remained frozen as the elders leaned forward, inspecting the disturbing evidence with growing unease.
"With the support of the Second Elder, the Fourth Elder has broken more Cult Laws than I care to count, teaching Aegon Veyr forbidden techniques.....techniques that are meant to be passed down only to the next Dragon and were still taught to him without council approval.
As the two have willingly broken countless Cult laws and a long standing tradition not from ignorance, but rather pure ambition."
"Aegon Veyr’s body is covered in ancient runes and secret tattoos meant to aid in life essence absorption.
And absorb he did....
As over the past year, he’s absorbed an average of 30-100 lives every single day.
Captured men, women, and children alike, drawn from the colonies and planets under the jurisdiction of the second and fourth elder, all sacrificed under the guise of cultivation, all so that he could absorb their life force and soar through the Grandmaster Tier like a beast fattened on stolen flesh."
"And so I ask you," he said, his voice growing colder now, "is it any wonder that he reached the Transcendent Tier by the age of twenty-three?"
He let the question hang, the silence that followed as heavy as a blade pressed to the throat.
"The two of you," he said, turning his gaze toward the Second and Fourth Elders, "have committed crimes that would warrant execution if reported to Lord Soron. But I am not a petty man. I know your intentions were not born out of malice, but out of blind devotion to the Cult’s future. And so, I will let this matter rest... for now."
"But do not sit there and insult our intelligence by preaching about Veyr’s so-called ’talent.’ The boy is not gifted. He is groomed. He is a lab rat, molded through stolen blood and broken oaths. And if he is not named Dragon today, he will cease to be an asset, and become instead a liability to the very men who built him from forbidden clay."
His words left a chill in the air, as the final syllables faded into silence, leaving the chamber frozen in a moment of collective reckoning, where no elder dared to speak, and the Second and Fourth Elders sat hunched in shame, their masks doing little to hide the weight of what had just been exposed.
Seconds passed, and neither man stood up to defend their honor, as soon the Elders who were waiting for their defence, rose up in anger, feeling unable to believe that something so ridiculous sounding was actually true.
"Propostrous! How can this be true? How can you teach forbidden technique to someone who is not the Dragon? That’s akin to committing high treason!"
"Lord Second, Lord Fourth, please tell us your side of the story..... this can’t be true.... This is surely a misunderstanding is it not?"
The neutral elders asked, however, neither man had anything to clarify, which brought the atmosphere within the Council room to a boiling point.
The elders who were unaware of this plot could not believe just how far some of their peers had fallen to break centuries of tradition like this, as they looked genuinely stunned by this revelation.
The others who had some clue on what was going on, but had chosen to turn a blind eye towards it regardless, whispered behind trembling fingers, as they reassured each other that they still had the others’ backs.
But no one could deny the shift that had occurred within the chamber’s walls, as the facade of unity and discipline had been cracked straight through the middle, revealing ambition, secrecy, and desperation buried just beneath the surface.
And amidst the quiet unraveling, the First Elder said nothing more.
He simply watched.
Watched as the Second and Fourth Elder refused to lift their heads.
Watched as the flames of indignation sparked from seat to seat.
And watched as the very men who once moved votes with a single nod now sat crippled by shame, unable to salvage the very cause they had sacrificed everything for.
But beneath his still exterior, the First Elder’s thoughts flowed dark and calculating, for this moment was not something he had won by chance or luck, but was rather something he had silently worked on for months, with whispers traded for truths, and favors exchanged for confessions, until the web had grown tight enough to strangle even the boldest conspirator.
He had purposefully positioned himself to look weak.
He had let the Fourth and Second Elder think that they were the only ones gathering intelligence on him.
Because while they had been busy watching him, he had already learned whatever he needed to learn about them, and had secretly saved the evidence for this precise moment here today.
As with this truth bomb, he expected to win this war for once and for all.
"All those in favor of appointing Leo Skyshard as the next Dragon..."
A pause.
"...please raise your hands."