I've Got A Mana Processor In A Magic World-Chapter 67: The Council

’They’re all half-exalted,’ Zephyr observed. ’Okay, maybe not all of them...’ he noticed a few people with scales here and there, ’But the majority of people in here are half-exalted.’

Within the room, there were about thirteen people of varying ages, but mostly skewed towards the older side, seated at a U-shaped table, with a space for someone to talk right at the center of the room. The whole ambience gave him a feeling like he was at a parliament and about to be judged.

"Kid." A suave young man, seated closest to the door where Zephyr stood still, knocked the table lightly to draw his attention. ƒгeewёbnovel.com

Zephyr’s eyes focused on the man, probably in his late twenties, "Yes?" Zephyr replied.

"You were asked a question," the man lightly said.

"Oh, yeah— Yes. I’m Zephyr," he refocused his gaze on the person seated at the head of the table who had asked him the earlier question.

"Could you step forward to the center so your voice could reach everyone?" a woman with grey hair and a kind smile on her face leaned forward in her seat and beckoned Zephyr.

He looked between the woman and the small, slightly-elevated podium at the center of the room before walking forward and standing stoically as he was scrutinized by the people seated around the table.

Zephyr stared right back at them without reserve. He noted the significance of their seated positions, already drawing conclusions by himself. The old man who had asked him a question the moment he entered the room was seated right at the head of the table, so he was very likely the one chairing the meeting. The old woman with a kind smile was seated next to him by his right, while another old man was seated directly on his left. From there, one could infer that those seated further away from the head, and closer to the ends of the U shaped table, were lower on the hierarchy.

"Hello, Zephyr," the old woman drew his attention, trying to be as cordial as possible. "We will be asking a series of questions, some are required, and others are not. I hope you can cooperate with us so we can get this done quickly," she said.

"I thought I was here to select a teacher?" Zephyr asked, puzzled.

"Hmph" A short snort came from the side. Zephyr turned and looked at the man who was staring at him derisively. It was clear he wasn’t pleased with the way Zephyr replied and with the way he was being treated specially.

"Yes. You’re here to select a teacher. There’s nothing that will change that, after all, we cannot defy the Overseer’s orders so blatantly," she said more to the man who was giving Zephyr the stink eye than to Zephyr himself.

The man looked away with his jaw set in a hard line, still unconvinced but wary of the old woman’s words.

"You’re going to select a teacher from everyone sitting here at the end of this. But before that we would simply like to know you better, and at the same time answer some of the questions you might have," she explained.

’This guy’s definitely not on my list.’ Zephyr glanced at the man who was clearly displeased with his presence. ’But this old lady...’

"So how do we go about this?" Zephyr asked. "Do we do it a-question-for-a-question?"

"Preposterous!" The snobbish man slammed the table with his palm, standing up. "Who do you think you are to negotiate with us equally?" He waved a finger at Zephyr, looking around at everyone else, trying to rile them up. His efforts were not in vain though. Just like every organization, there were people who were also of the same opinion, though to varying lesser degrees. Those few looked at Zephyr with a reprimanding gaze but were wise enough to keep quiet.

The snobbish man looked around, getting even more angry at the fact that there was no one to voice a similar opinion. "Is this what The Council has beco—"

Whistle

The suave gentleman seated at the end of the table cut off the snobbish man’s statement mid-sentence with a soft whistle, causing the man’s face to contort in anger. He was about to give a sharp remark when he saw the dangerous grin on the suave man’s face. He stared at him wickedly like he was eager for him to speak.

"Hmph!" The man gritted his teeth and sat down, looking towards the head of the table where the old man sat, "Grandmaster Oswald, please note that the minutes of this meeting are being detailed and would be made public for the various family heads," he said.

The old man whose attention was solely on Zephyr, watching him with intrigue like he was a puzzle to solve, suddenly refocused his attention on the snobbish man.

"Is that a threat, huh, Dale?" He looked at Dale blankly. "You Crestwoods," he chuckled. "You should know by now that I can’t be moved by little things like that. I wonder why you still try," he played with the golden and silver rings that adorned his fingers, disappointed, and losing his interest in speaking further with Dale.

"Boy, you may continue," he waved a hand.

Zephyr looked at Grandmaster Oswald amusedly, ’It seems I misjudged him... This old geezer is more like those very focused wackos with short attention spans, only attentive to what they’re interested in. Very direct and lacking the time to waste vocabulary on anything uninteresting to them,’ he thought.

’Well, at least this short squabble has given me some insight into those who wouldn’t be a good pick for a teacher.’ Zephyr mused. He had noticed the reprimanding looks from a few others when Dale had tried to rile them all up, so he knew he wasn’t picking any one of them. Right now there were only eight people left for him to choose from, and Zephyr was sure that by the end of the meeting, he would have narrowed it down even more.

"Alright. So who’s going first?" Zephyr asked the old lady.

"You go first," she smiled.

Zephyr paused for a while, sorting out his thoughts. Asking questions about returning home would be redundant, the situation of things had been explained to him by Frederick and Veronica, he also didn’t want to ask about things he could find out easily after living in the Sanctuary for a while, "When’s the next convergence?" Zephyr asked. That was a question he was sure not to find an answer for anywhere else, as it seemed not to be public knowledge.

The old woman tilted a brow in amusement, "You’re not asking about your home?"

Zephyr shrugged, causing her to chuckle.

"Four years," Grandmaster Oswald held four fingers up with a grin. "Give or take... We can’t know these things for sure," he shrugged. "It may be three years, or even two years, but we know it can’t be more than four years by much, at most a few months more."

Zephyr frowned. That was closer than he had expected.

"When the time draws near enough, everyone with enough sensitivity to Origin would feel it," he finished.

"Now my question," he leaned forward excitedly. "How did you get here?"

The question made every one of them focus on Zephyr, intent on hearing his response.

"..."

"I was—"

SLAM

The doors of the room were slammed open suddenly. "Sorry I’m late." Veronica walked in confidently, scanning the room and spotting a few chairs at the side of the room. She grabbed one and came to the side of the suave gentleman. "Scoot," she waved.

"Gladly." The man complied with a pleased expression, happy with the exciting nature of the meeting. Everyone in the room was shocked at Veronica’s display, lost for words, all but Grandmaster Oswald, who watched her for a bit then turned his gaze back to Zephyr. The old woman seated next to him was more exasperated than shocked, and the man on the other side of Oswald was mostly disappointed. He seemed like someone that was a stickler for rules.

"Veronica!" Dale stood up with a roar. "You dare to come in here?!"

"I DARE, CRESTWOOD!" Veronica roared right back, slamming the table in turn. The suave man beside her laughed loudly, clearly amused and fully enjoying the show. A few other members tried to get them calm down, saying a few words and causing a droning chatter to fill the room as they talked over themselves.

Tsk

Grandmaster Oswald hissed, and suddenly, a terrifying pressure descended on the room.

Instantly, Zephyr felt his knees buckle. ’Gravity?!’ He lifted his head slowly to look at the Grandmaster who tapped a finger on his chin an arm on the armrest.

A few members of the council resisted, displeased by the show of power by Grandmaster Oswald.

"Hmph" Grandmaster Oswald snorted, his gaze sharpening dangerously from the previously lazy look on his face.

"Urk—!" Zephyr dropped to his knees, losing all mobility as his body went stiff.

DEATH