Inside the grand council chamber of Astra Veritas, the capital floating above the continent, the tension hung heavier than the ceiling-mounted obelisks that radiated pure mana. A round table of obsidian and silver separated the leaders of the five major races.
At the head, cloaked in ivory fur and silence, sat the Human High Chancellor. Beside him, the Elven Emissary of Verdantvale, tall and ethereal, kept her hands clasped in unease. The Beastkin Warlord, massive and scarred, let out low growls between words. The Dwarven Forge Patriarch, arms crossed and beard braided in runes, looked unimpressed. And watching it all with indifferent crimson eyes—Velzar, the Demon General—slouched comfortably, sipping aged crimson wine from a silver cup.
Projected above the table was a recorded replay of Leo's battle during the student exam.
As the footage ended, the room fell into sharp silence.
A ripple of mana snapped the stillness.
"That... was only five percent of his power?" the Elf whispered, her voice thin as paper.
The Beastkin slammed a fist into the table. "What kind of monster did you humans breed?! That wasn't a student! That was a walking calamity!"
"You think we bred him?" The Human Chancellor responded coldly. "Leo was never ours to control."
"We should've ended him two hundred years ago," muttered the Dwarf, voice gravel-thick.
"Two hundred years ago," Velzar said calmly, raising his wine, "you all tried. And failed."
The council fell quiet.
The Demon's smile was thin and unreadable.
"I assume this is why you called this emergency summit?" Velzar went on. "To discuss whether you should try again?"
"No," the Elf replied, standing. "This isn't about one student. It's about balance. If he sides with any faction... it will destroy everything we've built."
"He hasn't taken a side," the Chancellor admitted. "But his presence alone disturbs the school system, the alliances, the balance of Class rankings. Even the Sovereign Class was rattled."
Velzar's eyes glinted. "And what if he chooses to remain neutral?"
The room went quiet again.
"That... would be worse," the Dwarf said at last. "A roaming weapon with no allegiance is a spark waiting to burn the world."
"I disagree." Velzar finally stood. "You want to chain him down because you fear him. But our deal with him stands. The Demon Race will not act against Leo ."
Murmurs erupted.
"You still uphold that cursed pact?" the Elf snapped. "Even after he nearly tore your realm in two during the dark campaign?!"
"He spared us," Velzar said, his voice suddenly like a razor under silk. "And unlike the rest of you, we know how to respect a king when we see one."
The Beastkin bared his fangs. "Then stay out of this. Because the next time he raises a hand, we won't sit and talk—we'll move armies."
"And doom your cubs in the process?" Velzar chuckled. "Be my guest."
The room pulsed with raw tension, until the Chancellor raised a hand.
"Enough," he said. "This isn't war—yet. But the world must prepare."
He turned to the other leaders. "I suggest we quietly begin restructuring the Hero Academy's internal system. Class evaluations, new instructors, perhaps even external monitors."
"And Leo?" the Elf asked.
"We do what we always do with forces we can't control," he said softly. "We keep them watched. And if possible... we push him toward purpose."
The demon envoy gave a slow, knowing smile.
"You'll find he doesn't move unless he wants to."