svetikya Page 596
Page 596
Immediately afterward, without even lifting her eyelids, Inolai tapped lightly on the armrest with her withered fingers, producing a dull thud as a response.
Her voice was old and hoarse:
"Baruyeleta agrees."
The words are concise and to the point, as if stating a predetermined conclusion.
His gaze shifted to the seat in the Minerals Department (Kishua). El-Melloi II took a deep drag on his cigar, the thick smoke temporarily blurring his vision behind his glasses.
He was silent for a few seconds, as if weighing invisible weights, and finally, his weary yet exceptionally clear voice pierced through the smoke:
"Minerals (Kishua), agreed."
Behind this "agreement" lie countless untold deals and compromises, known only to him.
The pressure was instantly transmitted to Olga Marie.
The young heir's body visibly tensed, and she instinctively looked at Rufreus, as if seeking some kind of confirmation.
Rufreus did not respond, but simply looked back at her calmly.
Olga Marie took a deep breath, as if using all her strength, her voice trembling slightly, yet unusually firm:
"Heavens... Celestial Science (Animusfia), agreed!"
She fulfilled her promise and upheld the bottom line of astrophysics.
Hana no Ryori didn't even look at anyone. Her gaze was lowered, fixed on the gem embedded in the table in front of her, where the runes representing the will of the Department of Law and Politics flickered slightly.
Her voice was completely flat, as if reciting legal statutes:
"The Department of Justice (Barthemello) agrees." Procedural justice was strictly enforced at this moment, and her agreement meant that the Department of Justice recognized that this issue met the formal requirements of a grand proclamation.
Five votes in favor!
The air seemed to freeze for a moment. Just two more votes were needed for the resolution to pass. However, the cold reality was about to reveal its cruelty.
All eyes, like searchlights, were focused on Rufreus Nazele Lifis, the monarch of the Third Discipline, the Department of Spirit Summoning (Eureka).
This ancient representative of aristocracy had a pale face, as if sculpted from marble, devoid of any expression. He slowly raised his withered hand, his fingertips wreathed in a cold, almost soul-freezing ethereal glow.
He didn't speak, but simply hovered his hand above the area of the ritual runes that represented "rejection"—that position corresponded precisely to the heart of the dragon skeleton in the holographic model.
His actions were the clearest declaration: Etherealist (Eulifus), I disagree! A silent denial, carrying an absolute resistance to the desecration of the essence of the soul.
Finally, like a heavy anchor falling, the monarch of the First Discipline - All Basic Disciplines (Trampellio), Magdana Trumpelio Elrod, rang out with his booming voice.
He didn't look at Lydia or Inolai; his gaze was like iron, fixed on the suspended model, as if examining an unfinished design:
"The entire Basic Sciences Department (Trampellio) disagrees."
His veto was swift and decisive, without any hesitation.
The vote for all seven seats has been completed.
Lily Dale Archerlot (Plant family) - Agreed
Inolei Baleyeta (Creation Department) - Agreed
El-Melloi II (Minerals Agent) - Agreed
Olga Marie Animusfia (Astrophysical Science Agent) - Agreed
Hanako Hisako (Representative of the Law and Politics Department) - Agreed
Rufreus Euryphus (Spiritualist) - Disagree
Magdana Trumbelio (All Basic Courses) - Disagree
The five brilliant votes of "agree" were completely swallowed up by the two votes of "disagree," which were as heavy as an abyss.
At the center of the round table, on the surface of Albion's holographic model, the flowing light patterns representing vitality and possibility seemed to be eroded by an invisible force, suddenly becoming dim and disordered. Finally, at the core of the model, a huge and cold veto mark constructed of pure magic slowly emerged and solidified.
In the Grand Order decision ceremony, the deep, resonant energy humming fell into complete silence at that moment.
No one could have imagined that the final veto vote that tore the resolution apart would come from the hands of these two individuals!
This is almost a paradox at the level of universal laws!
Just moments before, amidst the heated debate on this issue, were these two monarchs, seemingly at opposite ends of the spectrum—Magna, representing democratic forces, and Rufreius, symbolizing aristocracy—
Like two dragons vying for the same piece of divine mithril, they tear and wrestle with all their might on the battlefield of the round table, trying to greedily seize every ounce of possible dominance and every inch of future interests into their own faction's pocket!
Their words were like thunder in a clash, their gazes like sharp blades cutting through space, and their confrontational and uncompromising stance almost tore apart the ritual space itself, which was constructed from ancient contracts and magic!
But, in that decisive moment, when only one more vote was needed to accomplish this great feat—
silence.
A profound silence.
It was not the usual silence, but rather an absolute nothingness, like the nothingness that devoured everything before the birth of the universe, obliterating even the concept of "nothingness," suddenly descending!
This silent weight instantly crushed the expectations and inertia that had almost solidified into reality due to the six votes in favor!
It is colder than the soul-freezing glimmer of light at Rufreus's fingertips, and heavier than the physical weight contained in Magdana's words!
Everyone's thoughts, like precision gears spinning at high speed, suddenly got stuck in the stardust of the Age of Gods, uttering a silent, tooth-grinding lament in the face of a huge logical paradox!
"why?"
Inolai broke the absolute silence that had almost frozen time and space.
Slowly, with a sense of scrutiny that transcends time, she turned to the side, her murky yet sharp gaze, like that of a hawk, piercing through the thin air and locking firmly onto Magdana's body, which was like an iron fortress.
Yes.
Why exactly?
This silent question, which swept through the minds of every monarch like a tsunami, resonated and roared violently in the stagnant magical air!
This is by no means a rash act based on personal likes or dislikes! Every monarch present here is, in themselves, the most sophisticated calculation unit and the most ruthless embodiment of self-interest in the world of magic!
What kind of unimaginable, subversive considerations of self-interest, or... what kind of indescribable, terrifying risks are there that could crush any ambition?
It was astonishing that these two monarchs—Magnana and Rufreius—who were like opposite poles of destiny, and who had just been tearing at each other for every inch of dominance, could be forced to confront each other.
Before the final threshold of the unprecedented feat of forging "Albion, the Last Dragon," into a conceptual weapon that would determine the Clock Tower's supreme status in the magic world for the next millennium—
Without prior arrangement, and with such resolute determination, they abruptly withdrew their hands, which were about to fall as a sign of "agreement"!
Chapter 630 Outside the Clock Tower "1" (4k)
Inside the secluded audience hall of the Thousand Realms Castle.
The flickering candlelight danced on the seven golden arms of the ancient Jewish menorah candlestick, casting eerie shadows onto the cold stone wall.
Caster—the puppeteer well-versed in esoteric rituals—did not linger on the flickering flames, but rather pierced through the leaping halo.
Like an invisible observer, it calmly "watches" the actual combat postures of the other Masters of the Yggdrasil Clan and the Sword Spirits they summon on the distant battlefield.
Through Caster's magical construction, the distant battle scene was precisely captured and reproduced, like a phantom film manipulated by an invisible hand, clearly projected onto the wide walls of the audience hall.
The Masters of the Yggdrasil Clan, along with their summoned Servants of various forms, gathered here, holding their breath and watching intently as they gazed at the "screen" reflecting the Dance of Destruction.
An overwhelming momentum!
Even through the magical projection screen, the overwhelming sense of pressure still surged like a tangible giant wave, almost tearing the boundaries of the image!
Aside from Darnik Preston Yggdrasil, almost all the Masters present had their pupils uncontrollably contract and tremble under the impact of that violent visual image—
That is the instinctive, uncontrollable tremor that a living being experiences when faced with overwhelming absolute power!
In the video—
That petite body, and the destructive power it unleashed, created a terrifying contrast that defied all expectations!
The colossal steel golem, a war creation born in Caster's hands, capable of contending with low-ranking Servants, is now as fragile as a sandcastle built by a child!
The swordsman's figure transformed into a silver lightning bolt that tore through space, each thrust carrying the kinetic energy of a cannonball!
That longsword, which was not made of ordinary iron, was perhaps merely a storm stirred up by its limbs.
Wherever it passed, the hard golem shells were as if they had been struck by a giant hammer from the age of gods, and were cleanly and decisively pulverized amidst the ear-piercing metallic groans and the flying magical sparks!
One move! Three moves at most!
Those golem legions, which should have been as majestic as mountains and as solid as fortresses, collapsed and disintegrated in large numbers, like wheat stalks swept by a gale, turning into a pile of lifeless wreckage!
"I can only say... no wonder he was given the 'Saber' throne by the Holy Grail."
This deep, resentful exclamation, imbued with a pure power that only fellow Heroic Spirits could deeply comprehend, did not come from Danic, but from the Lancer standing slightly in front of him.
The spearman's posture was as calm as an abyss, his gaze piercing through the images and looking directly at the swordsman's sharpness. His very existence exuded an undeniable ancient majesty.
A breathtaking scene unfolded—
Master Darnic, the monarch who ruled the Yggdrasil clan, showed no dissatisfaction with the Servant's initial statement. Instead, the moment the Lancer finished speaking...
With utmost naturalness and a reverence akin to a scholar confirming his mentor's pronouncement, he nodded slightly toward the spearmen.
As his gaze swept over the petite avatar of destruction in the image, Danic's voice was clear and steady, yet it clearly carried a hint of providing corroboration for the spearman's judgment:
"Strength B+, Endurance A, Agility B, Magic B... Except for Luck, none of his stats are below C, which truly suits the Sword Spirit."
The muscle strength B+ parameter is particularly exceptional, as the + value can increase several times over in a short period of time.
In addition, its anti-magic and riding abilities are both at the B level. In other words, this swordsman is so tenacious that only A-level magic can finally be used to damage it.
The cold, hard parameters, in Danic's mouth, transformed into a breathtaking declaration of combat power.
Legend has it that in the four Fuyuki Holy Grail Wars that have now concluded, the Heroic Spirits who wielded the Throne of the Sword were able to stand at the pinnacle of the final battle.
This is not just a lucky coincidence, but proof that it possesses an "all-powerful strength" that is sufficient to cope with all kinds of dangers and resolve endless variables!
And at this moment, through this "screen" reflecting destruction and power, the absolute strength possessed by the legendary heroic spirits, enough to transcend myth and history, is finally imprinted on the soul of every viewer in its most direct and violent form!
"How's it going at the clock tower?" Danick asked.
"All the intelligence spies we sent out were wiped out, but the intelligence from some families that cooperate with us shows that the concentration of ether in London showed signs of a sudden surge not long ago."
A woman with delicate features, but who reeked of blood, answered from behind him.
Serenique Escort the Thousand World Tree is a magician who practices dark magic and makes a living by killing others through curses.
Danic nodded slightly, then looked at the gunner in front of him.