Chapter 102: The Surviving High-Level Mage

Seeing this information, Morin instructed Klaus to take over the training organization, while he walked aside, deep in thought.

He felt that this round of negotiations would likely yield some tangible results.

Although the offensives of the past two days seemed intense, both the attacking and defending sides had, in reality, already shown their respective bottom lines…

Therefore, the war was unlikely to escalate again in the short term.

“Does that mean I might be returning home soon?”

The thought flashed through Morin’s mind, and he looked toward the northeast…

Paris, Festival Hall of the Élysée Palace.

Compared to Sir Edward Grey, the Britannian Foreign Secretary, who looked displeased and had heavy dark circles under his eyes.

Gottlieb von Jagow, the Saxon Foreign Affairs State Secretary, appeared much more composed.

He leisurely sipped the coffee prepared by the Gauls, a faint smile playing on his lips.

The defeat on the battlefield, which had forced Edward Grey to proactively suggest a second round of negotiations, had put him on the defensive from the moment the talks began.

“Mr. Jagow, I believe we should stop wasting time.”

Sir Edward Grey broke the silence after a moment of deliberation, initiating the ‘Britannian style of negotiation.’

“Your country’s army advancing to the gates of Madrid is a blatant provocation to the peace of all Europa!”

“Oh, is that so?”

Jagow slowly put down the document he was holding, which contained the latest briefing on the Aragonese war compiled by his accompanying staff.

He glanced again at the phrase in the document, ‘Madrid is currently encircled by our forces,’ then smiled and replied:

“Sir Grey, I believe you are mistaken about one thing. Our army is there at the request of the legitimate government of the Kingdom of Aragon, to help them quell the civil unrest!”

“As for advancing to the city gates… well, that only proves that those ‘rebels’ were utterly incapable of resistance.”

Immediately, Jagow gave Grey no chance to retort and threw out the Saxon Empire’s condition directly:

The Britannians must completely withdraw from the Kingdom of Aragon and cease all forms of assistance to the Royalist Army.

“Absolutely not!”

Edward Grey sternly rejected the impossible demand.

“I must remind you, Mr. Jagow, that the Expeditionary Forces of our Holy Britannian Empire are continuously landing. If your country intends to continue this war, the final outcome is far from certain!”

The two sides plunged into a fierce argument.

René Viviani, the Premier and Foreign Minister of the Gallic Republic, acting as the host and mediator, patiently tried to smooth things over from the side.

He was naturally in no rush, as the ones dying on the battlefield were not Gauls…

However, he also did not want the war to completely spiral out of control. Intelligence gathered over the past few days had confirmed to the Gauls that the Britannians had also reinforced their army in the Kingdom of Aragon to 10 Divisions.

If the fighting continued to escalate, the situation might become impossible to resolve through negotiations alone.

With this thought, he cleared his throat, attempting to lighten the mood:

“Gentlemen, war benefits none of us. I believe we might be able to find a solution that benefits all three parties…”

“All three parties, hmph.”

Edward Grey snorted dismissively. He had always been dissatisfied with the Gauls meddling in this affair.

If the diplomatic relations with the Saxon Empire hadn’t plummeted to freezing point, he would have preferred to communicate with the Saxon side privately.

Jagow, the Saxon negotiator, raised an eyebrow upon hearing ‘three parties’ but said nothing.

The three parties engaged in sharp verbal sparring, fighting fiercely for their respective national interests. The entire Festival Hall was permeated with an unresolvable tension.

Ultimately, the Gauls proposed a seemingly compromised suggestion:

The three parties would temporarily set aside their disputes and quickly ‘assist’ the Aragonese Monarchy in finalizing the decision on the succession to the throne.

Concurrently, they would jointly invest in and develop the brilliant crystal ore resources within the Kingdom of Aragon in the future…

For the Britannians, this was clearly not the outcome they wanted.

They had originally intended to swallow the entire Aragonese prize whole. Now, not only had they failed to do so, but the Gauls were also involved…

However, the battlefield setbacks and the Saxons’ tough stance compelled them to begin considering a certain level of compromise.

For the Saxons, this was the best outcome they could achieve in the short term.

After all, Saxony did not want to push the Gauls entirely into the arms of the Britannians. The Empire was not yet prepared to face two powerful adversaries simultaneously.

In fact, even for the Gauls, who seemingly benefited the most—gaining joint development rights without even participating in the fighting—this was not the result they most desired.

The decision for joint development meant that both the Britannians and the Saxons would brazenly extend their influence right into the Gauls’ backyard.

For the Gauls, who had always considered the Iberian Peninsula within their sphere of influence, this was tantamount to inviting wolves into their home.

The second round of negotiations lasted five full days, conducted in an atmosphere where all three parties harbored secret agendas.

In the end, the three parties reached a fragile agreement and issued a joint communiqué.

The communiqué announced that the three nations—Saxony, Britannia, and Gaul—would, based on the principles of peace and friendship, jointly assist the Kingdom of Aragon in post-war reconstruction and economic development…

And expressed hope that the Aragonese Monarchy’s prolonged succession dispute would soon be concluded.

After being published and sensationalized by major news agencies, the entire European continent was enveloped in an atmosphere of “peace has finally arrived” and “long live peace.”

Countless citizens took to the streets, cheering and celebrating.

Incited by certain factions, they celebrated the avoidance of a war that ‘could have jeopardized all of Europa’ through diplomatic efforts.

For a time, the representatives of the three negotiating nations all became ‘heroes’ in their respective countries…

However, no one at this moment cared about the feelings of the Kingdom of Aragon.

Just as everyone ignored the Aragonese Foreign Minister, who stood on the side when the joint communiqué was issued.

He looked completely detached from the negotiations concerning his own country.

Nor did any nation step forward to question the blatant interference in the sovereignty of the Kingdom of Aragon by these three great powers.

Weak nations have no diplomacy. This reality was fully demonstrated in this era.

Meanwhile, the only High-Level Mage who had survived the street fighting in Seville finally returned to London under heavy protection.

He was taken directly to a white tower on the opposite bank of the Palace of Westminster—before he even had a chance to see his family.

The High-Level Mage Tower, the heart of the Holy Britannian Empire’s spellcasters, was also one of the most mysterious places on the entire European continent.

The Mage, brought into a room, had no time to ask questions before he saw another elder in mage robes in the room—

Archmage Alistair Graham, a member of the High Council of Six, the highest governing body of the High-Level Mage Corps.

This was a 9th-Circle Transmutation Mage, one of the only six 9th-Circle Mages in all of Britannia.

Normally, an ordinary High-Level Mage would have almost no chance to meet such a high-ranking spellcaster.

Because they spent nearly all their days in the ‘Council Hall’ at the top of the tower.

The surviving High-Level Mage humbly lowered his head, then heard a gentle voice.

“You have worked hard, my child…”

The 9th-Circle spellcaster was extremely amiable. He personally used the [Mage Hand] spell to pour a cup of calming tea for the Mage, whose mental state appeared extremely poor.

“The contributions you have made to the Empire and the Mage Corps are noted by all of us.”

After a brief consolation and affirmation of the Mage’s bravery, Archmage Graham got straight to the point.

“Now… my child, tell me what exactly happened in Seville? Tutor Eldridge… how did he fall?”

At the mention of the question, the High-Level Mage, who had been relatively calm until then, began to tremble violently and uncontrollably.

It was as if he was recalling some extremely terrifying experience.

His face was ashen, his lips quivering, unable to utter a complete sentence for a long time.

“Hell… that place was hell…”

He spoke disjointedly, his voice trembling and breaking:

“The Saxons… they must have mastered some evil magic! Absolutely!”

“Evil magic?”

Archmage Graham frowned slightly, but quickly smoothed his expression.

“Relax, child… tell me specifically what happened?”

“Their soldiers would suddenly appear from every corner of the city… from the walls, under the floors, on the ceilings…”

“Nowhere was safe! You simply couldn’t kill them all! Never could kill them all!”

The Mage’s voice grew louder, his emotions becoming increasingly agitated, bordering on madness.

“Calm yourself!” Archmage Graham had to raise his voice, attempting to restore the Mage’s sanity.

But his words seemed to have the opposite effect.

The Mage waved his arms, as if trying to ward off the persistent nightmares in his memory.

“Don’t prepare offensive spells! They are not enough! Not even one is enough!”

He shouted at Archmage Graham, spittle flying.

“All spell slots must be prepared with Abjuration spells! All of them!”

“I need to re-specialize into Abjuration! Yes! I must re-specialize into Abjuration! Even if it means starting from scratch, I must!”

This near-hysterical reaction caused Archmage Graham’s brow to furrow deeply.

He could feel that the man had truly suffered some intense trauma, and his current mental state made normal communication impossible.

He waved his hand. Two Spell Wardens, clad in runic armor, stepped out of the shadows, supporting the still-incoherent Mage and dragging him out.

“Take him to the quiet room. Find a Mages of the Enchantment School to examine him.” Graham instructed.

“Yes, Archmage.”

(End of this Chapter)

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