...
{3rd Pov}
[The Sage Candidate Natsuki Subaru has slain the White Whale]
One of the Wise Men immediately noticed the shift in the ancient stone and pointed it out with urgency.
"The message on the Dragon Tablet has changed!" he exclaimed, drawing every single pair of eyes in the hall back toward the artifact.
The glowing letters were clear and undeniable, and as they read the new inscription, the atmosphere in the chamber grew tense and heavy once again.
"T-The Sage Candidate, Natsuki Subaru… has slain the White Whale?!" a Noble stammered, his voice trembling as he read the words aloud.
The shock was so overwhelming that he stumbled a few steps backward, his face pale with disbelief.
Wilhelm's expression hardened the instant the words were spoken.
His eyes widened, his jaw tightened, and he almost looked like a man who had just been struck by lightning.
"Impossible!" Wilhelm shouted, his voice echoing through the chamber.
"How can that be true?!"
His entire body trembled with a mixture of rage, confusion, and unwillingness to accept such a claim, especially concerning the monster that had haunted him for decades.
Felix quickly chimed in, his tone sharp but filled with visible frustration.
"Yes, nyaah! How could that guy of all people possibly slay the White Whale?! There's no way! Not him!" Felix crossed his arms, his tail twitching in agitation, as if trying to dismiss the very thought.
[Oh? You are going to conveniently ignore the words, 'Sage Candidate Natsuki Subaru'?]
At that moment, everyone's eyes went wide in utter disbelief.
"The Dragon Tablet… it's replying! Impossible!" one Noble shouted, his face paling as though he had just witnessed the end of the world.
"Am I dreaming?" another stammered, his body trembling violently as he tried to process the unbelievable situation unfolding before his very eyes.
[No, you are not XD]
"…"
The chamber instantly descended into chaos.
Shock and panic spread like wildfire, and even the usually composed nobles and knights found themselves shaken to the core.
The idea that the sacred Dragon Tablet, the very foundation of the Kingdom's guidance, had responded directly was something no one in the room had ever imagined could truly happen.
Before the uproar could spiral completely out of control, Marcos, the commander of the Royal Knights, slammed the bottom of his blade firmly against the marble floor.
The resounding metallic clang echoed through the grand hall, forcefully silencing the panicked voices.
"Order!" he barked with authority, his commanding presence alone enough to bring the chaos down to a tense stillness.
Meanwhile, Miklotov and several of the other Wise Men slowly rose from their seats, their expressions more serious than ever before.
With deliberate steps, they walked toward the Dragon Tablet, their robes brushing softly against the stone floor as they gathered in front of the ancient artifact.
The atmosphere grew heavier with every passing second, the tension suffocating.
Taking a deep breath, Miklotov lowered his head slightly in reverence before speaking aloud.
His voice was steady, though it carried a clear undertone of awe and dread.
"May I humbly ask… is it truly you, the esteemed Dragon God Volcanica, who is speaking with us through the Dragon Tablet?"
[I am not Volcanica. I am the Great Sage. I, too, possess the authority to issue revelations through the Dragon Tablet.]
The moment those words appeared, the already tense atmosphere within the royal hall seemed to tighten further.
Miklotov's eyes widened ever so slightly, and without wasting a moment, he grabbed the arm of a nearby Royal Knight.
Miklotov quickly called a Royal Knight and ordered him to announce everything to the others.
Turning his full attention back to the glowing tablet, Miklotov lowered his head respectfully and addressed the message.
"Lord Great Sage, I greet you in the name of the Kingdom of Lugunica. We are honored by your presence. If I may be so bold, may I ask the reason for your sudden visit to the Royal Capital?"
His voice, though respectful, was steady, carefully measured so as not to betray the nervousness spreading among the nobles and knights.
After a brief pause, new words formed across the Dragon Tablet's surface.
[Hmm. I am aware you dispatched the Sword Saint to seek out my apprentice not too long ago. Very well then… let us do this. You may ask me three questions, and I will respond to each to the best of my abilities.]
Gasps echoed across the chamber.
Apprenticeship?
The nobles exchanged confused glances while murmuring amongst themselves, their thoughts racing.
The Great Sage—one of the most revered and feared figures of legend—was openly acknowledging having an apprentice.
That single word carried with it implications none of them were prepared for.
Miklotov, too, furrowed his brow as he reread the message carefully.
His voice carried a note of hesitation when he finally asked, "Lord Sage… what do you mean by your apprentice?"
The entire hall fell into silence, minds running wild with speculation.
Had they not sent Reinhard, the Sword Saint, to seek out the Great Sage directly?
Why, then, did he now claim that the mission had been for his apprentice instead?
What was the meaning behind this subtle yet staggering distinction?
The tablet responded almost immediately.
[Is that your first question?]
Miklotov froze.
The weight of the words pressed heavily on him, and he realized the gravity of wasting even a single opportunity out of the three that had been offered.
Straightening his posture and taking in a slow breath, he quickly shook his head and answered firmly, "No! Forgive me, Lord Sage. That was not my first question."
"Sir Miklotov, why don't you take the responsibility of asking the three questions on behalf of all of us?" Bordeaux suggested calmly, his tone steady but laced with the gravity of the situation.
His reasoning was clear to everyone present: Miklotov was known across the kingdom as one of the wisest men alive, a scholar whose judgment far surpassed that of nobles or knights when it came to matters of such critical importance.
He was also the brains behind the Kingdom.
There was no objection. Not a single voice rose to argue. The atmosphere of the royal hall was too heavy, too tense, for anyone to challenge the decision.
All eyes naturally fell on Miklotov.
Crusch Karsten clenched her fists tightly at her sides, her sharp green eyes locked on the Dragon Tablet.
She was torn between dread and determination, her mind racing with the implications of the revelations they had already witnessed.
Wilhelm, standing near her, was no less shaken.
The seasoned warrior, a man who had endured countless battles and tragedies, now found himself struggling to process the overwhelming shock and confusion.
His weathered face betrayed an emotion rarely seen in him—hesitation.
Miklotov straightened his back, drawing in a quiet breath to steady himself.
He knew the responsibility of what he was about to ask.
Slowly, with a voice both respectful and firm, he spoke:
"What do you mean, Lord Sage, by referring to that boy… Natsuki Subaru… as the Sage Candidate?"
The entire hall collectively held its breath. The silence was deafening, as if even the air itself was waiting for the answer.
The words soon carved themselves onto the Dragon Tablet, glowing faintly as they appeared.
[It is simple. Just as there is a successor for every Sword Saint through the passing of their Divine Protection, that boy stands as my successor because of the rare and extraordinary compatibility between our abilities. He is, as of now, a Candidate. And not only that—he is the only one to appear in the last four hundred years.]
The chamber erupted into chaos the very instant the message was read aloud. Gasps, exclamations, and cries of disbelief echoed against the marble walls.
Nobles stumbled backward in shock, unable to steady themselves as the weight of the statement crushed their understanding of the world.
One Royal Knight, unable to contain himself, shouted the words out loud again as if to make sure he had not misread them: "The boy… that boy, Natsuki Subaru… the Sage Candidate?!"
His voice cracked as he repeated it, his disbelief clear for all to hear.
The announcement struck harder than any weapon could.
A few nobles collapsed onto the floor, their faces pale as fear and panic overwhelmed them.
Even among the knights, the reaction was extreme.
A certain Royal Knight who had once mocked Subaru during the duel against Julius now trembled uncontrollably.
Grabbing at his own hair in desperation, he began panicking like a madman, muttering in broken tones as if trying to deny what was written before his very eyes.
Several thoughts raced through Miklotov's mind.
A dozen possible implications unfolded in his head, ranging from political consequences to threats against the balance of power within the kingdom.
Yet he did not allow his emotions to cloud his judgment.
His breathing slowed as he forcibly calmed himself, steadying his racing mind.
He could not afford to falter—not when he had two questions remaining.
He was just about to raise his head and voice his second question when, suddenly, a voice rose within the hall, interrupting the stillness that followed the chaos.
"Is the White Whale truly dead?! Did that boy actually kill it?!" Wilhelm suddenly blurted out, his voice breaking through the heavy silence of the hall like a thunderclap.
His words were loud, uncontrolled, and filled with disbelief.
Everyone in the chamber froze on the spot.
All eyes snapped toward Wilhelm, the silence now pressing heavier than before.
Miklotov had just been preparing to voice his next question when, to the astonishment of all present, the words on the Dragon Tablet changed once again.
[That will serve as the answer to your second question. Yes—Natsuki Subaru has indeed slain the White Whale, though with a slight measure of assistance from me. However, do not mistake my help as the deciding factor. It was he who delivered the finishing blow. It was he who decimated that beast in a single attack.]
The message glowed vividly across the surface of the tablet, its words undeniable.
No one knew what to think, what to say, or even how to react.
For a moment, the hall was filled only with shallow, uneven breathing as shock rippled across every individual present.
Should they be relieved that it had been the Great Sage who intervened, making the impossible possible?
Or should they be terrified at the implications—that a boy who had until now been dismissed as arrogant, unstable, and weak had wielded enough power to annihilate the legendary White Whale in a single strike?
The sheer weight of the revelation crushed the atmosphere of the chamber.
Nobles who prided themselves on calm composure exchanged panicked whispers.
Several knights looked shaken to their very core, unable to reconcile the Subaru they had seen with the Subaru described on the tablet.
Meanwhile, Wilhelm stood frozen, his face a mixture of awe, grief, and turmoil.
The name of the White Whale had haunted him for decades, its existence tied inseparably to the tragedy of his life.
But instead of the joy or closure one might expect upon hearing of its death, his voice had fallen into silence.
The old swordsman seemed to have lost the very light in his eyes, falling into deep, consuming thought.
His question had been answered, but the revelation had brought him no comfort.
The hall did not remain silent for long.
A Wise man, his face stern and his temper fraying, angrily scolded Wilhelm for his outburst.
"Control yourself! Your reckless words have already cost us one of the three precious questions granted to us!" he barked, his voice echoing harshly across the chamber.
But Wilhelm did not respond.
He remained still, as though the weight of his memories and the truth just revealed had crushed his spirit.
His silence only deepened the uncomfortable tension.
Finally, Miklotov intervened, raising his hand to calm the wise man.
His tone was measured, but there was a trace of strain in his voice. "Enough. Do not let your emotions cloud your judgment further. Sir Wilhelm's grief has consumed him, that much is clear, but we cannot afford chaos at this moment. He will be dealt with later, should punishment be deemed necessary. For now, focus."
The reminder restored some order to the room, though unease still lingered thick in the air.
The attention of all present shifted back to the Dragon Tablet.
Two questions had already been used—one in pursuit of clarity, the other squandered by Wilhelm's desperation.
That meant the final question was critical.
It had to be chosen with the utmost care, for its answer could shift the future of the kingdom.
Everyone waited with bated breath as Miklotov prepared to speak, but before he could voice the third and last question, another voice rose suddenly, cutting through the chamber.
It was filled with raw anger and unrestrained emotion.
"Why did the Dragon not help the Royal Family?! Why did he abandon us to our grief?! Why did he let Prince Fourier die?!" the voice cried out, shaking with fury. "And why did you not help us, nyah?! Why did you stay silent while we suffered? WHY?!"
Everyone in the room was stunned.
Their eyes turned toward the source of the outburst, disbelief flashing across their faces.
It was none other than Felix Argyle—his composure shattered, his usual cheer erased. His fists were clenched, his body trembling with anger.
His voice, normally lighthearted and playful, now rang with bitterness and grief, his rage directed squarely at the Great Sage.
Crusch, meanwhile, could not help but bring her hand to her forehead in frustration.
She was deeply conflicted in that moment.
On one hand, she was genuinely grateful to Felix for daring to voice such a bold and heartfelt question—something that most of the nobles would never have had the courage to ask aloud.
Yet, on the other hand, she quickly realized the catastrophic political fallout that would follow.
Felix's emotional outburst had squandered the most precious opportunity imaginable: the chance to ask the Great Sage, the one said to be omniscient, any question of their choosing.
And now, two out of the three chances had been wasted.
"BLUE!" Bordeaux roared in fury, his voice booming across the chamber, shaking everyone to the core.
His outrage was shared by every other wise man present, their faces contorted with barely restrained anger.
They could tolerate Wilhelm's mistake.
He was, after all, a war hero, someone whose years of service and sacrifice for the kingdom earned him leniency.
His grief was understandable, even if his impulsiveness had cost them dearly.
But Felix? Felix was another matter entirely. Despite his reputation as a skilled healer, his position was already precarious.
He was a demi-human, a fact that many nobles still quietly resented and never let themselves forget.
And now, to waste such a precious chance on what many would perceive as a selfish, personal grievance—this was seen as utterly unforgivable.
"I apologize!" Crusch quickly stepped forward, bowing deeply before the furious wise men and knights.
Her voice was steady, though her heart sank with dread.
"I will see to it that he is punished accordingly."
She knew full well that any show of hesitation here would only make the situation worse, but she also felt the weight of betrayal in her chest, knowing she had to shield Felix's mistake with her own responsibility.
Her words did little to soothe the growing storm.
The nobles' faces remained twisted in anger, the tension in the hall growing heavier with each passing second.
They were not easily appeased, not when something as monumental as communication with the Great Sage had been so carelessly squandered.
At that moment, the glowing letters upon the Dragon Tablet changed once again, halting further arguments.
[Very well, I shall provide the answer to your last question. First, you must understand this: Volcanica, the Divine Dragon, only held a contract to defend the Kingdom in the event of external invasion. The contract never allowed him to interfere in matters considered internal strife. The reason the Royal Family perished is because one among their bloodline—one of their very own—had become a Sin Archbishop. Their hand was behind the mysterious deaths. Because it was an internal matter, the Dragon was bound by the contract to remain uninvolved.]
The entire hall erupted in shock, disbelief plastered across every face.
"Impossible! How can a member of the Royal Family be a Sin Archbishop?!" one of the wise men shouted, his voice cracking with fear, the very idea sending a shiver through the hall.
The nobles began muttering in panic, their tightly held composure breaking down.
The thought that corruption had not only reached the highest bloodline of the kingdom but originated from it was almost too terrifying to comprehend.
Miklotov, who until now had remained measured and calm, let out a deep sigh, the weight of his own knowledge pressing heavily on him.
His expression was grim as he finally spoke, his voice carrying both resignation and authority.
"If matters have come to this point, then I can no longer withhold the truth. It must be revealed to all present."
He straightened himself, meeting the eyes of those before him, even as the tension in the hall rose to unbearable levels.
"In fact, a Sin Archbishop is already suspected to be none other than the Royal Princess who supposedly perished fifty years ago."
The room fell into dead silence at those words. The implication was far darker than any of them had imagined.
Yet the shocking news did not end there.
The Dragon Tablet once again glowed, its surface shifting with new words.
[As for why I did not intervene or offer you assistance? The answer is simple. First, I have no obligation to help you. I am not bound to serve your kingdom's needs or its internal conflicts. Second, even if you had somehow managed to reach the Pleiades Watchtower in search of me, the one you would have encountered there would not have been me. Instead, you would have met my apprentice—Shaula. You would not have found me at all.]
Gasps filled the hall.
Miklotov's eyes widened, his usually calm demeanor cracking under the weight of the revelation.
"Lord Great Sage… does that mean Shaula is truly your apprentice? And if so… then that name, 'Shaula,' it isn't even yours to begin with?" His voice trembled slightly.
The realization struck like lightning—everything they thought they knew about the Great Sage, the figure revered as one of the legendary heroes who sealed the Witch of Envy, was false or, at the very least, incomplete.
Myths, assumptions, and centuries of trust had just been shaken in a single moment.
[You have now asked all three of your questions. Our exchange is over. However, I will leave you with one final reminder. Etch these words into your minds: If any among you, whether noble, knight, or commoner, dares to exploit or manipulate Natsuki Subaru in my absence… understand this clearly—it will not end well for you.]
The chilling words carried an unmistakable threat, a warning that could not be mistaken for anything less than absolute.
The hall fell into stunned silence, and then, as the weight of the declaration sank in, the chamber descended into complete chaos.
Nobles shouted in panic, knights argued among themselves, and wise men tried to make sense of what they had just witnessed.
The very foundations of their understanding had been shaken.
…
Meanwhile, far from the Royal Hall, Natsuki Subaru stood glaring at Zero, who was sporting a wide, smug grin across his face.
"Why the hell are you grinning like that?" Subaru demanded, clearly irritated by Zero's strange expression.
"Nothing…" Zero replied, trying and failing to suppress a chuckle. "Just did a little trolling."
"???" Subaru blinked in utter confusion, unable to comprehend what the other was talking about.
To be continued...
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