Javier's palm rose, a faint pulse of light flickering between his fingers. The iron ore floated into the air, shimmering as it melted into liquid, then reshaped into a blade, its edge gleaming under the mana light, before dissolving back into fluid metal again.
He was clearly lost in thought.
"Since the only option left is… direct intervention," he murmured, eyes still fixed on the floating metal. "Hmm… but the Crown...the Kingdom...will see it as a threat."
He waved his hand slightly; the ore shifted into droplets, spinning slowly around his fingers.
"Well… it's not like they'd dare challenge Armand again after losing the last war against us,"
"But still… this is going to be a pain in the ass."
The ore solidified once more, hovering motionless in his palm. Javier sighed.
"And I'm sure Father will send me anyway."
Everyone in the room heard that last line clearly.
