An awkward silence filled the room.
I had nothing to say, and the Leader didn’t seem intent on speaking.
Aside from the fact that she was the woman who founded the Eight Council, there was no real information about her.
Personally, I always pushed the theory that she was a cheap MacGuffin lazily written by the author.
More bait for the sake of bait, or something like that.
But now that such a character was suddenly standing right in front of me, it was only natural to feel awkward.
If she said anything, I might’ve been able to infer something from it—but since she stayed completely silent, I had nothing to say either.
‘Why the hell is she here?’
In the novel, no one knew where the Leader was.
At most, there was a theory that Valheit might’ve secretly contacted her.
‘But even so, why the hell is she in my room?!’
If I had to argue it, Valheit probably did have the highest probability of meeting the Leader.
Still, I didn’t think she’d show up so openly in my room.
Unable to bear the silence, I opened my mouth first.
“What brings you here?”
“Did I need a reason to come?”
“That’s not what I meant, but…”
Playful tone. Gentle smile.
If I hadn’t known who she was, I might’ve relaxed a little without realizing it.
I had to stay sharp.
No matter how she looked, she was the one who convinced powerful individuals and formed the Eight Council.
“Of course, I didn’t come on a mere whim. But it’s strange you’re the one asking. You’re the one who contacted me first, Valheit.”
When did I ever do that?
I didn’t even know how. And even if I did, I had no reason to contact her.
The Leader had never shown her face—not at Valheit’s death in Chapter 150, nor even in the discontinued Chapter 300.
Naturally, she had no ties to Valheit’s life or death, and I had no reason to stir things up by reaching out.
“You let me listen in when you made the contract with Johann Geller, remember? With this.”
In her hand was a fountain pen.
I didn’t know where she pulled it from, but it looked incredibly familiar.
It was the one from the desk in my bedroom.
Just an ordinary fountain pen I packed, figuring I’d need something to write with during the contract meeting.
That was a communication device? By what principle?
No—now’s not the time for that. The real issue is—how much did she hear?
“Worried about how much I heard, are you? Don’t worry. I didn’t hear all that much.”
Does she have some kind of mind-reading ability?
That would be a problem. If she found out the contents of Valheit had changed, who knew what would happen.
Wait, should I even be thinking that right now?
“It’s all over your face—how could I not notice?”
“Is that so, haha…”
“Strange, isn’t it? The great Count Valheit showing his thoughts on his face. Has something changed inside you?”
“I’ve just been a bit scattered lately.”
Even to me, it sounded like a pathetic excuse.
Whether fortunately or unfortunately, the Leader changed the subject.
“I know it’s a bit presumptuous to interfere after stepping away, but I was too curious.”
“Curious about what, exactly?”
“Valheit as a mediator—it just feels too out of character.”
“I simply followed what was most beneficial.”
At the word beneficial, the Leader narrowed her eyes.
“Beneficial… to whom?”
“To all of us.”
“No need to twist your words with me. Whose benefit were you talking about?”
It didn’t seem like I could dodge this with vague words.
What would Valheit have said?
If he were the selfish, cunning schemer he was supposed to be, whose benefit would he claim?
“For my own benefit. And for the benefit of the Eight Council.”
The Leader scanned me with eyes full of curiosity.
At least it wasn’t suspicion. That was a relief.
But those eyes—like a child who had discovered something new—weren’t exactly a good sign either.
“Alright. Then let me change the question. Who are you?”
“What kind of question is that?”
“Call it whimsy. Either way, I want to hear your answer. Who are you?”
Damn. I think she caught on.
As if in response to my unease, the Status Window popped up beside me.
At a glance, it displayed some horrifying content.
[Timer]
!!WARNING!!
▶ Valheit Death Probability = 99.9%
(-) Drew suspicion from the Leader of the Eight Council!!!
The death probability I had worked so hard to reduce had skyrocketed.
‘So it can go up…’
No, now wasn’t the time to be amazed.
A wrong answer here would be fatal.
Valheit’s sharp instincts and my own reason screamed in warning.
“I’m Valheit.”
“Good. And what do you do?”
“A Count of a nameless territory. A royal advisor to the Imperial Family. And the second-in-command of the Eight Council.”
“And why do you do those things?”
The honest answer would be: To survive.
But that wasn’t something Valheit would say.
Giving some half-baked excuse would likely backfire instead.
At times like this, you had to go straight through.
“To survive.”
When I finished speaking, silence returned to the room.
Like a prisoner awaiting judgment, I waited for the Leader to respond.
“Good. That’s all I needed.”
“…Sorry?”
“It’s fine. Whether you’re the same, changed, or something new—if you remain Valheit, that’s enough. However—”
The endless silence finally broke, and normal sounds returned to my ears.
The fierce wind by the lakeshore, the rustling trees, the creaking of the door—everything was back to normal.
“Don’t forget our original goal. Prevent the destruction. No matter the means. If you don’t—”
A sharp pain gripped my chest, and I dropped to one knee.
I barely managed to lift my head and saw her eyes had gone unfocused.
The gentle demeanor from moments ago was gone, replaced by utter emptiness.
“I’ll come end the contract myself.”
With that, everything returned to normal.
The messy mix of noises came back, and my heart was beating normally again.
More than anything, I was alone in the bedroom, as if nothing had ever happened.
‘Teleportation? An illusion? No… I didn’t sense any mana. With magic of this level, there has to be residue.’
A mage always leaves traces.
Every book said so without exception.
“The higher the tier and the more powerful the spell, the more likely even the faintest trace will remain.”
‘If it wasn’t magic, then what kind of method…?’
“Oh, right.”
A cheerful voice rang from inside my pocket.
Panicking, I fished out the fountain pen.
“There was something I forgot to mention.”
“Go ahead.”
“Next time we meet, call me by my name. Like you did the first time. Take care, Valheit.”
Click—the voice cut off.
I turned the now-silent pen over and examined it, but found nothing unusual.
All I could tell was that it ran on mana.
I placed the pen far away from me and sat on the edge of the bed.
There was a lot to think about.
‘In the end, I didn’t get much information about the Leader at all.’
I didn’t have a single clear answer.
The identity of the Leader, the nature of the contract she supposedly made with Valheit, whether she had figured out who I really was—none of it was certain.
In all that frustration, the only thing I had clearly gained was the purpose of the Eight Council.
To stop the destruction of the world—by any means necessary.
And now, there were more questions.
Was the destruction the Eight Council intended to prevent the same one that occurred in Chapter 300, when the novel was discontinued?
It wasn’t impossible that it was a different kind of destruction altogether.
Wondering if there might’ve been any change, I opened the Timer.
[Timer]
World Destruction in 300 chapters!
▶ Cause: Valheit’s death
At the very least, neither the chapter number nor the cause of the destruction had changed.
That meant this meeting hadn’t twisted the entire story yet.
What caught my eye was the next part.
[Timer]
▶ Valheit Death Probability = 87.8%
(+) Recognized by the Leader! For now!
(+) Death probability has entered the 80% range!
▷ 3 Skill Points acquired!
The number, which had nearly reached 100%, had dropped again.
And since I reentered the 80% range, I was even rewarded with Skill Points.
‘That makes more than 10 points now, doesn’t it?’
From 7th-tier spells and up, the required Skill Points increased sharply, so I’d pretty much given up on anything above that—but now this changed everything.
Sure, I was gambling with my own lifespan, but my death was already fixed at a particular chapter.
As long as I recovered before then, this was a goldmine.
The only problem was figuring out how to increase and decrease the probability…
“I’ll think about it tomorrow.”
I’d put off the complicated stuff and get some rest for now.
Just as I lay down and began to close my eyes, someone knocked on the door.
“Who is it?”
“It’s Ron, Lord Valheit.”
“Is it urgent?”
“Yes, it is urgent.”
Damn. I just wanted a nap.
Still lying down, I raised my voice.
“Handle it tomorrow.”
“I’m sorry, but it can’t wait.”
“What is it?”
“His Majesty has sent a summons.”
Damn it.
I sat up and let out a deep sigh.
If it were a mere invitation, I could ignore it—but sending a formal summons meant it was official business.
‘Barely escaped the Leader, and now it’s the Emperor?’
***
The Strategy Department took up the most space in the headquarters.
It had the most staff, but more than that—it stored a ridiculous amount of paperwork.
Reports from all regions, confidential intel sent by the Ravens of the Grand Duchy of Leitche, newspapers and yearbooks organized by country, and even the recently added daily reports tailored for Valheit.
It wouldn’t be wrong to call the Strategy Department a forest of documents.
In a corner of that forest, Til was digging through files with a deeply furrowed brow.
“Why the hell did I sign up for this crap…”
About to swear out loud, she grabbed another file labeled “Northern Federation Intel #623/7.”
From the first file of 1620 to the seventh of 1623—she’d already flipped through hundreds of pages.
Naturally, none of it had caught her attention.
“What exactly did that guy see in all this that made him so interested?”
She had decided to figure out why Valheit had changed, even before she’d gone with the Emperor’s illegitimate child to the summer villa in Kliffen—but still hadn’t found anything.
At first, she thought she could get a feel for it by looking at the major incidents only.
The Northern Federation was infamous as a criminal haven, so she thought that alone was enough.
But she had gained nothing.
There were incidents, sure—but they were mostly small-scale clashes between crime syndicates. Nothing the Eight Council or Valheit would take interest in.
“‘Something interesting,’ my ass. It’s just the same stories every day.”
She kept digging through the reports because Valheit had said something interesting would happen in the North… but not a single thing stood out.
“No point going through more files if this is all I’m getting.”
She sighed and closed the “Northern Federation Intel #623/7” folder she had just opened.
Only one was left. If there was nothing in #623/8 either, she’d call it quits.
“Smuggling syndicate conflict… skip. Baronial assembly in the capital city of Lanare… would he really care about backwoods politics? Clash with demons near the border… that’s routine.”
Til, flipping pages, paused for a moment.
It wasn’t important news, but a familiar word had caught her eye.
“Borgia Liquor Guild’s products are gaining popularity in the Empire, huh.”
Til thought for a moment, then exclaimed with a sharp “Ah!”
“Weren’t they the guys who bought that mine from Cesare?”
Come to think of it, the answer she gave Valheit back then was also, “Cesare sold the mine.”
Looking back now, that had been strange.
Why would liquor dealers buy a mine?
“Borgia Liquor Guild… Borgia Liquor Guild. Here it is.”
She rummaged through the drawers organized by topic and pulled out a thin folder.
There wasn’t much in it.
Just a brief company overview and some receipts.
But the buyer listed on the receipts was Valheit, and the destinations were all Imperial ports.
One thing was clear—Valheit was up to something. She just didn’t know what yet.
“Today’s daily report is canceled because the Count was summoned to the Imperial Palace. That’s all for today!”
Cheers quietly erupted within the Strategy Department at the unexpected news.
As the staff stumbled out, Til grabbed the overworked deputy head of the department, who was covering while the Strategy Head was on vacation.
“Hey.”
“Y-Yes, ma’am?”
“Did Valheit go to the Palace or get summoned?”
“Uh, Lord Ron said he was definitely summoned.”
Summoned, huh…
Despite being titled a royal advisor, Valheit wasn’t often summoned directly by the Emperor.
‘Did the Emperor get into trouble or something?’
Either way, it meant Valheit wouldn’t be paying attention to this side for a while.
Perfect timing to begin a quiet investigation.
Borgia Liquor Guild.
She repeated the name to herself again.
***
Red liquor filled the glass.
The strong smell of alcohol and sweetness pricked the nose.
“This Northern drink you offered as tribute this time is quite good.”
“I’m glad it was to Your Majesty’s liking.”
I bowed lightly as I looked at the Emperor, whose face had gone quite red.
When I arrived at the Imperial Palace after a full day’s travel, the Emperor was already well drunk.
I didn’t think he summoned me just to drink together, but for the past hour all he had done was talk about liquor.
Saying the same things over and over again.
Just when I started to suspect that maybe he really had summoned me just to drink, the Emperor finally sobered up a little.
“Count Valheit. You’re still the Imperial Family’s advisor, right?”
“Of course, Your Majesty.”
“There’s a family matter I need you to handle for me.”
A family matter.
In all works of fiction, royal families are always a mess.
“And lately, my uncle has become quite unreliable.”
And naturally, uncles always covet their nephew’s throne.