Chapter 437

The Council convened in an old-fashioned building near the World Tree.

Built in the style of Kurayan, its rounded roof and smoothly curving walls gave the impression of a cloud floating in the sky.

But unlike its gentle exterior, the atmosphere within was unbearably heavy.

Only four members of the Council had gathered.

The Council was supposed to have ten, including Riala.

When Riala sensed the Black Queen’s entry into El Harun, she requested the Council convene, but only four had responded.

Even counting Riala and Garanta’s absence—since they were already fighting the Black Queen—no less than four others had refused to come.

“You want us to believe the Black Queen entered El Harun?”

“Hah, Lady Riala, your instincts have dulled. Is it because you’re human? You’re far too nervous.”

“That’s what humans are. Always oversensitive, quick to react.”

“Hmm.”

Even the four present didn’t take Riala’s words seriously.

Yes, the legend of the Black Queen was frightening—but surely El Harun’s barrier would keep her out.

And so far, the barrier had shown no sign of disturbance.

Naturally, they assumed she wasn’t inside. For original chapters go to novelꞁire.net

The real reason they came was to put pressure on Riala.

If the human kept demanding Council meetings like this, it would be troublesome—so they sought to cut her off.

At the center of this opposition stood Hera, a strikingly beautiful elf of middle age.

Hera was the practical leader of the elves settled in El Harun.

So many elves trusted and followed her that she was regarded as their true chieftain.

Across from her sat a dwarf, his face completely buried in a mass of beard—his age impossible to guess.

His name was Kelota, chieftain of the Giant Dwarves.

While normal dwarves averaged only 140 to 150 centimeters in height, Giant Dwarves often stood over 180.

Not for nothing were they called giants among dwarves.

With their larger frames came even greater strength.

Beside Kelota stood a man with the fierce bearing of a tiger.

This was Repo, chief of the beastmen.

And at Repo’s side, a figure cloaked head to toe in robes—face and gender indistinguishable.

This was Taboaru, leader of the Zela, known as the “magical race.”

Hera, Kelota, Repo, Taboaru.

The leaders of each race, all holding little affection for humans, and all displeased with Riala’s summons.

Kelota slammed his great fist against the table.

“Countermeasures for the Black Queen? Hah! I never understood why she was held in such esteem. She’s just an old legend from fading memory. And legends are always exaggerated.”

“But we can’t dismiss it entirely. Riala may be human, but she is a Council member—and a sharp mind besides.”

Hera’s voice was calm.

A voice seemingly untouched by emotion.

Though an elf, she was one of the few who valued Riala highly.

She had observed her long enough to judge her fairly.

That was why she had answered the summons without hesitation.

The others had come too—but with far less earnestness.

Hoo.

Hera exhaled softly, hidden from the rest.

The rift between humans and the other races had grown so deep it seemed beyond repair.

If the Black Queen truly had entered, El Harun itself was at risk. Yet the others deliberately ignored the danger, simply because it was a human who spoke of it.

When did it come to this?

She could no longer remember when the divide had begun.

After Lord Del Roa withdrew completely, the divisions worsened.

Del Roa—the ruler of El Harun.

A mysterious being older than anyone else alive.

It was Del Roa who, at Kurayan’s fall, united humans and the other races, leading them across to Earth.

It was Del Roa who had built El Harun here.

Thanks to him, those who survived Kurayan’s collapse had banded together and forged this haven. But once El Harun was on its feet, Del Roa withdrew entirely.

He handed all authority to the Council and vanished.

Had he continued to guide them, the gap between human and other race would never have widened so far.

Even now, Crudu—the giant chieftain and current Council chair—had not even shown up.

Giants were colossal, their children already over two meters at age ten.

An adult could reach nearly four.

Their power was immense.

They were nearly impervious to magic—ordinary spells could barely touch their flesh.

As allies, they were unmatched pillars of strength. As enemies, they were nightmares incarnate.

No matter how divided the Council, if Crudu spoke, none could ignore him.

But today, he hadn’t appeared at all.

A clear sign of his disregard for Riala’s words.

Ahh… how wearying.

Hera sighed again.

At that moment—

“Terrible news!”

The doors burst open, an elf rushing in.

Hera’s brow furrowed as she scolded him.

“What has you so frantic?”

“The Black Queen has appeared!”

“What are you saying?”

“Exactly that. The Black Queen has appeared and is rampaging. Already, more than a hundred awakened have died.”

“What!?”

Hera’s face went pale in an instant.

The others, too, blanched.

“You mean the Black Queen has truly shown herself?”

“You’re mistaken, surely.”

But the elf shook his head fiercely.

“I am not the only one who saw her. Many have witnessed her. Right now, the humans of the Hall of Guardians are holding her back, but…”

“But what?”

“They cannot last. At this rate, their awakened will be wiped out.”

“So urgent?”

Repo of the beastmen spoke, disbelief on his face.

The others looked the same.

“The Hall of Guardians, beaten back like that?”

“Human awakened are not so weak.”

“Damn it. Then the legends of the Black Queen were true?”

The chamber’s mood froze over.

The elf pressed them.

“You must deploy forces immediately.”

“Summon all elven warriors. I’ll lead them myself.”

Hera was the first to act.

She glanced at the other leaders once, then strode out.

Kelota, Taboaru, and Repo’s expressions twisted.

If the Black Queen’s invasion was fact, they had no choice but to move. If they hesitated any longer, not only other races but their own people would condemn them.

They hurried after Hera.

---

“Hahh… hahh…”

“Ghhhk!”

The battlefield echoed with ragged breaths and groans.

They came from the awakened of the Hall of Guardians.

Their bodies were wrecked.

Only the late arrival of Garanta’s Highlanders had kept them from being slaughtered outright. Even so, they were on the brink.

Horned warriors stood at their front, shielding the faltering awakened.

They were all Highlanders.

Barely a few dozen remained, but each one burned with valor.

Even before the terrible might of the Black Queen, they fought on with fire in their eyes.

Neria, however, looked at them with little reaction.

Though surrounded by countless enemies, she seemed to feel no threat at all.

“This… this is impossible.”

Uron muttered blankly.

He had watched Neria fight from the beginning.

Even seeing with his own eyes, he could not believe it.

Her power was overwhelming.

Not everyone had fallen. Some awakened of the Hall still stood, and the Highlanders had joined them—but none seemed capable of protecting him.

And his son, Nokan, had gone over to Neria.

Some of the fallen awakened lay slain at Nokan’s hand.

Their corpses were hideous.

And still Nokan was not satisfied. He stalked toward Uron.

—Grrrr…

The growl sent a chill through him.

Uron was next.

Because Neria had commanded it.

“I must run.”

Uron bit his lip.

He had never imagined being driven into such misery.

Shameful though it was, escape was the only path. If he lived, he could rise again.

No matter what Neria said about his cruelty, no one would believe her.

So long as he lived.

He began edging back.

But Nokan noticed.

—KRAAAHH!

With a roar, Nokan lunged.

Several awakened tried to block him, but his massive body flung them aside.

In a heartbeat, he was before Uron.

“C-calm yourself, Nokan!”

Uron thrust out his arms to hold him back. But Nokan ignored him, advancing.

—Grrrr!

“Nokan! You ungrateful wretch! I am your father! Would you kill your own blood!?”

The words burst out—words he should never have spoken.

He had called Nokan his son.

And those nearby had heard.

“That monster—his son?”

“What is he saying?!”

Only then did Uron realize his mistake.

He had admitted the Black Queen’s claim.

“Damn it!”

His face turned ashen.

Riala, close enough to hear, asked sharply:

“Then the Black Queen’s words were true?”

“N-no! I misspoke. Quickly, kill this monster before me!”

“Lord Uron!”

“I told you—it’s not true! Why harp on it? Just save me!”

He screamed desperately.

Riala, seeing his panic, wondered if Neria’s words were indeed true. But whatever the truth, now was not the time. Neria and Nokan had to be stopped first.

Uron’s sins could be judged later.

“Hyahh!”

Riala hurled herself at Nokan.

The beast roared, enraged that she dared interrupt.

—KROOOAHH!

He charged at her.

Uron seized the distraction, trying to flee.

But he had barely run a few steps before collapsing.

BOOOOM!

A fireball had slammed into his back.

The caster—Zeon.

Zeon stared down at the fallen elf, voice cold.

“After making this mess, you think you can run?”

“What right do you have to meddle?”

Uron raised his head, glaring up at him, face twisted like a demon.

Zeon met his eyes and spoke.

“I may be nothing, but I know at least this—those who cause the problem must face it themselves.”

“You dare lecture me, human? I am the most respected elf in El Harun. Harm me, and every living being here will hunt you until your death. Do you accept that?”

“I don’t care.”

“What?”

Zeon’s lips curled in a cold smile.

“I said I don’t care. Because still…”