Chapter 421: Anxiety On Both Sides
(A few hours later, Soron’s POV)
Once the two elders had left, Soron’s frame gradually reverted to its weakened, mortal form.
He clutched at his chest, grimacing in pain as the effort of maintaining that earlier facade of strength had clearly taken its toll.
"I had long suspected the Council to be rotten... but I did not think it had decayed this far," he muttered under his breath, as he closed his eyes and recalled the information he had pulled from within the thoughts of the two elders.
As beyond the words that the two elders had spoken aloud, Soron had also peered into their thoughts and emotions. He had felt everything they carried in that moment: every fear, every lie, every hope.
He had studied them thoroughly, even before they were allowed inside the castle, examining the truth buried beneath their expressions and carefully chosen words.
By the time they entered the throne room, he already knew what they truly believed and what they secretly wished to accomplish.
The First Elder sought to have six councilmen dismissed from their posts, convinced beyond doubt that they had colluded in treason.
The Second Elder, on the other hand, came only to seek pardon.
Although he could not say for certain why the Fourth Elder had decided to teach Veyr forbidden techniques, the Second Elder had acted out of a genuine belief that Veyr was destined to become the next Dragon.
In his mind, it was not rebellion, but preparation. He had broken rules, yes, but not with ill intent.
And so, while the law had indeed been violated, Soron chose not to punish the Second Elder immediately. For despite his mistakes, his heart still beat for the Cult, and his actions, however misguided, were not rooted in malice.
It was with this understanding that Soron devised the condition he had proposed. Rather than pass judgment from behind closed doors, he would allow the truth to be revealed through battle. A public match, where strength, merit, and fate would speak louder than politics.
The winner would be made Dragon, while the loser, should that be Leo, would still be groomed for the position of Vice Sect Master.
"Fate will do as fate wills, however, I don’t believe that it will be too bad for the boy to lose the bout.....
In more ways than one, the life of the Dragon is cursed.
Rather than reporting to a rotten council, it will be better for him to solely be groomed by Charles and moulded for the position of Vice Sect Master.
That way, he may not hate the Cult as much as he would should he become Dragon...." Soron mused to himself, as he let out a deep sigh and climbed on his bed to rest.
—-------------
Meanwhile, the First Elder on his way back from Ixtal, quickly typed a message on his data slate and sent it to all the other elders that were still his ally, informing them about the decision that Lord Soron had made.
’A public duel against a Transcendent-tier opponent?’ The First Elder wondered, as he couldn’t help but shake his head in dismay, when he thought about the odds of Leo’s victory.
"The Skyshard boy is talented, yes, but he can’t possibly fight and win against someone that’s a tier stronger than him.
Even for him that’s impossible—" The First Elder mused, as his heart sank, not only from a lack of belief, but also from the bitter restraints of time.
Two months wasn’t enough for Leo to train for a fight against Veyr.
"Unless he breaks through," the First Elder muttered under his breath. "He has no chance."
And yet, even as those words left his lips, he couldn’t bring himself to give up hope, as he started to wonder if Charles could help Leo achieve that breakthrough in time?
---
Meanwhile, the Twelfth Elder, sat with his head between his hands, feeling utterly dejected as he read the message that the First Elder had sent him via the data slate.
"It’s almost like Lord Soron wants Leo to lose and go down Charles’s life route instead of becoming a Dragon..." Noir concluded, as he clicked his tongue and shook his head.
He had fought hard to support Leo’s growth from the shadows.
Had gone through a lot of difficulties to make him a viable Dragon Candidate, yet just when it was about to pay-off big time, unforeseen circumstances had taken his victory from him.
"A duel like this, at different tiers... it’s not a real test of worth, it’s a public humiliation fest," he muttered, his fingers drumming nervously against his side.
The only way out of this mess was if Leo did the impossible.
Which was to tier up within the next two months, and then face Veyr on equal terms, because without that, Noir saw no other road to success.
---
Meanwhile, the Fourth Elder, also sat dejected inside a dimly lit chamber, the faint light of a data slate illuminating his clenched jaw.
The second elder had also informed his camp of Lord Soron’s decision, and the Fourth Elder did not feel happy about it at all.
If Veyr lost, his seat at the council and everything he had worked so hard for over the years would be forfeit.
And this spooked him to no end.
He wanted to laugh. After all, what chance did a lower-tier brat have against their chosen Transcendent Champion?
But then again...
Leo wasn’t just any random brat.
He was the Rodova Circuits Champion.
The Underdog of Underdogs.
The man who had already neutralized a Transcendent Tier operative on live television.
That cursed boy had a way of ruining predictions.
And that terrified him more than he cared to admit, because if Leo won, it would be all over for him in politics.
---
Finally, the Seventh Elder also felt as horrified about this whole situation as the Fourth, as he froze in the middle of his routine tea drinking session when he got the message from the Second Elder, informing him of Lord Soron’s cruel decision.
He had placed a bet, a dangerous one, on Veyr’s future, by joining the Fourth Elder’s camp a month back.
But now that future was about to be tested.
And the stakes weren’t just pride or reputation—they were seats. Power. Everything.
"Leo Skyshard... don’t tell me you’ll actually pull this off," he whispered.
Because deep down, the Seventh Elder had a sinking feeling that the boy just might, and that horrified him to his core.