When Theresa Trowvik entered the room, both Nor and Felice were quite surprised. Veronica and Theresa were undoubtedly two of the most dazzling new stars among Garan's younger generation. However, precisely because of this, the relationship between Veronica and Theresa was notoriously bad. Their conflicts were well-known in the council, resulting in multiple sanctions for each.
However, Veronica seemed unsurprised by Theresa's arrival, calmly asking, "You came?"
"Did you know I would come?" Theresa assertively pulled up a chair and sat inside the room.
"Of course." Veronica didn't seem interested in delving deeper into this topic. She shook her head and said, "What does our little princess want to talk about? Is it about him?"
Theresa's beautiful eyebrows lifted, understanding Veronica's implication.
The fragile peace between Veronica and Theresa was solely maintained through Ryan. Veronica's message was clear: she would only discuss matters related to Ryan with Theresa, and she was not interested in anything else.
"Are you free for dinner tonight?" Theresa didn't respond to Veronica's query. Instead, she made her own invitation.
A somewhat absurd invitation, at least as far as the other two council members present, Nor and Felice, could comprehend.
Theresa and her mother had significant influence within the Garan Council. Previously, Veronica had to avoid their sharp edges, but now, with her man's support, she could afford to disregard them, unlike Nor and Felice. The legendary life witch, with her more gentle temperament, suggested, "Regardless, let's have some juice first, Miss Trowvik. Since you're here, you're a guest."
"Yes, Miss Trowvik, take a seat. We were just discussing matters concerning Nords," Veronica added, without confirming whether she would join Theresa for dinner, cleverly steering the conversation elsewhere.
Theresa knew she had agreed.
There were indeed matters to discuss between them, and they were now in a relationship of mutual advance or retreat. However, as with their past animosity, re-establishing understanding and consensus was complex and painful. Given Veronica's pride, she would never reach out first, because she didn't need to.
Theresa used to be the same.
Yet, circumstances change, and now Veronica held the upper hand. Theresa realized that if she continued to be prideful, she would ultimately be at a loss.
From Ryan's behavior, it was clear that the chosen champion of the Lady of the Lake didn't hold deep affection for Theresa; his acceptance and responsibility towards her were merely out of recognition for her efforts.
Such a connection was fragile.
After much thought, Theresa decided to set aside her pride and proactively extend an olive branch to Veronica, knowing Veronica was intelligent enough to understand what this meant.
Theresa sat down and tried to join the conversation. "The Kingdom of Nords? What's happened recently? I heard that the Skarlin tribes had marched south again but were repelled by the Nords' army."
"It's not that simple." Felice's voice was somber. "The Skarlin tribes broke through the northern ports. Two thousand guards died, and General Gaesher led a thousand Nords' soldiers to assist but were all killed. Only when the king led his army to Hakendorf did they manage to repel the entire barbarian tribe. After their setback, the Skarlin unexpectedly chose to retreat orderly, taking their vast loot and leaving behind countless destroyed villages and farmlands."
The legendary witch of death and shadow was saddened; her husband had died in the defense of Hakendorf.
"Skarlin tribes..." Theresa knew about these tribes. With over two thousand years of history, existing before Charlemagne founded the Empire, they turned to worship the Chaos Gods after the Chaos descent. The greatest leader from Skarlin, Svenja, blessed by all four Chaos Gods, had led numerous southern incursions, causing immense pain to the Empire, but ultimately fell in battle against the first Duke Boldor and the original Grail Knight Markus in Bretonnia.
"Nords has suffered terribly in this war, while our Emperor is embroiled in a civil war in the south with Bretonnia, supposedly victorious. But who cares about that now? Nords is very weak." The life witch Nor added, "Just as the kingdom focused on the north, the southern border villages suffered. Beastmen tribes struck everywhere, seizing food for the winter. Dozens of villages along the Drakwald Forest were destroyed, thousands perished."
"Has there been any reaction from Middenheim?" Theresa frowned.
The actions of the northern barbarians and the Beastmen were almost in concert.
Drakwald Forest, the Empire's largest forest, spanning millions of square kilometers and crossing five Imperial provinces, was about half the size of all of Bretonnia. Filled with Beastmen, greenskin tribes, and Chaos cultists, only a few human villages existed
along rivers, roads, and hills. The battle between humans and the creatures of the forest had lasted thousands of years, a battle without end as the forest could never be fully cleared.
"The Beastmen want more meat,
The lords want higher walls,
We build walls, they eat meat.
Let us pray,
We build walls high enough,
The Beastmen eat enough meat.
Otherwise, the Beastmen will eat our flesh."
— Northern Empire nursery rhyme, "High Walls and Meat"
The most notable was the battle between the Elector of the White Wolf, "One-Eyed" Boris Todbringer, and the Beastlord "One-Eyed" Kazak. In their battle, both lost an eye and swore to kill each other quickly.
"Indeed, the monks of the Order of the Wolf and a few White Wolf Knights led patrols to drive several Beastmen warbands back into the forest, averting further destruction," Veronica also frowned, holding several letters. "Not only that, Hawkland also faces harassment from Beastmen and Chaos warbands from the Central Mountains. Recently... the dark forces have been acting more frequently."
Veronica nodded slowly, thankful that Ryan's foster father Norman's land of Otten, close to Middenheim, was relatively secure.
The topic was heavy, and the councilors didn't want to continue discussing it. Felice forced a smile: "By the way, Veronica, I hear you never have to worry about security issues in the County of Glamorgan?"
"Ryan is very strong, so is his army. For Beastmen and greenskins, it's just a matter of how many to kill," Theresa chimed in almost boastfully: "A few months ago, Ryan even organized a military expedition into the forest to eliminate Beastmen and greenskin tribes, beheading thousands."
Ryan's rise to fame through numerous battles was undeniable; Nor and Felice had no reason to doubt his capabilities, now even comparable to the oldest powers in the Empire.
"The situation in Bretonnia is different from the Empire. There are many Grail Knights there, and the strongest among them can repel a small Beastmen warband on their own, so the security is relatively better," Veronica said fairly, though everyone could see the joy in her expression.
It's good to have a reliable man.
After chatting a bit more, Nor and Felice decided to take their leave, aware that Theresa and Veronica had things to discuss: "Then we'll be going now, Veronica. We'll definitely visit your wizard's tower when we have the chance."
"Of course, you're always welcome. Thank you, Nor, Felice," Veronica stood up, handing them gifts of elven perfume and dwarf-made mail: "Please, take these."
"Thank you!" The two witches happily accepted the gifts, knowing elven items were exceedingly rare in the Empire.
After Nor and Felice closed the door behind them, Veronica looked at the shut door, then turned around with a faint smile on her sweet face, her beautiful almond eyes shimmering with interest: "I didn't expect you to come to me voluntarily, Trowvik."
"I think we need to communicate, Veronica," Theresa observed Veronica's spartan room, almost devoid of valuables except for a few clothes and books.
Realizing that Veronica had likely moved all her possessions to the Dawn Wizard's Tower, Theresa coughed slightly to cover her minor embarrassment: "Ahem... Congratulations on entering the Council of Elders."
"That's not something you'd typically say, Trowvik," Veronica's face bore a hint of sarcasm as she appraised Theresa's attire: "Leather jacket, tight leather pants, truly a strong woman's style, very suitable for you."
Though it sounded like a compliment, Theresa could sense the sarcasm and tension. The sorceress retorted: "Garan doesn't believe in tears. We are all independent beings. You don't need to use these words to mock me. What I wear is my business."
"Right, it is your business," Veronica continued sarcastically: "So why doesn't our Miss Trowvik just be a completely independent individual? You can be independent just fine. Why do you need a man? There are men everywhere. Why set your sights on my man?"
"Ryan is not yours!" Theresa instinctively stood up, her words tinged with anger: "At most, you knew him first!"
"Ha, you even know I knew Ryan first?" Veronica didn't want to argue with Theresa anymore; who took whom from whom was now a messy account, impossible to clear up: "How can you not have a shred of shame, my little princess?"
Theresa felt her blood rush to her head; Veronica's words, sharp as blades yet without a single curse, cut deeply.
However, the sorceress calmed down: "I didn't come here to argue with you. I know you want to provoke me, but I won't let you."
Veronica was taken aback.
"...
I didn't see it coming, Trowvik. You've grown," Veronica said after scrutinizing Theresa for a moment: "I wouldn't discuss matters with someone who's irritable and overly proud, but it seems Ryan has indeed changed you in some ways."
"People always change, whether proactively or reactively." Theresa shook her head and stood up: "Do you have plans next? We could have dinner together at Ilona's restaurant tonight."
"I have to meet Elder Carolina first," Veronica picked up her purse: "You can come with me to meet Carolina, or wait for me at Ilona's restaurant."
"Then I'll come with you," Theresa rose, and the two witches left the room together.
In the stone-paved corridor, filled with the voices of witches and apprentices, the recent Great Gathering at Skyvault Fortress meant constant movement of people. The appearance of Veronica and Theresa did not attract undue attention, for during this period, the witches engaged in countless social activities and negotiations. It was a time full of plots, with whispers in quiet pavilions and numerous secret meetings and romantic encounters occurring.
"Why are you meeting Elder Carolina? She's not easy to deal with," Theresa's high heels clacked as the sorceress voiced her confusion.
Carolina, a Sanctuary Archmage born in the northern Empire, was one of the only three such powerful witches in the Garan Council.
However, this death and alchemy witch was not as approachable as Margarita or Aurora. She was a moody and gloomy witch, tall and excessively thin, rarely leaving her home unless facing extreme trouble or matters of great importance, bringing destruction to her foes.
"She has some matters for me to discuss with Ryan," Veronica frowned, her heels clicking rhythmically on the floor: "The Grandmaster of the Witch Hunter Guild, the legendary strongest witch hunter Ernst, has arrived at the Garan Council. It seems he's tasked by Emperor Karl-Franz to investigate the movements of the Troll Country and the barbarians of Norsca to the north of Lynsk River."
"Ernst... the legendary strongest witch hunter? A peak Sanctuary powerhouse?" Theresa felt embarrassed hearing the name; Ernst had been famous in the Old World for centuries, born during the Era of the Three Emperors, and survived the Vampire Wars and the Great Holy War to the present day.
A living myth, an immortal epic—how could he suddenly come to the Garan Council?
"Could it be...?"
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