A heavy silence settled over the conference room. Most of them had likely already guessed who “that guy” Venum was referring to.
Seeing how the entire room had fallen quiet, Venum let out a slight smile and spoke again.
"As battalion commanders of the Council's Central Branch, you're worried—worried about being humiliated in front of your own units, about losing control, about being overshadowed by him. Am I wrong? Even with the Commander backing you, none of you can predict what might happen once you’re there."
He wasn’t entirely wrong. This expedition wasn’t just about monster subjugation—it was also about the presence of him. Among those gathered here, there were undoubtedly some who feared Leonardo Blaine.
Andreas, after all, was an S2-grade mage. Although his abilities were said to clash poorly with Leonardo’s, the fact that his arm had been shattered in a single strike—despite being one of the more powerful mages—was hard to believe. Which is why some couldn’t help but imagine: what if that broken arm were mine next?
Meanwhile, Venum Thesaurus, the one now boldly vocalizing what no one dared say aloud, was invoking something far more primal than pride: fear. And no one could condemn him for it.
Because it was now common knowledge that Leonardo Blaine was an S4-grade mage with bottomless mana reserves—someone overwhelmingly more powerful than any of them.
Even so, Meterion broke the silence with a sharp retort, his tone openly rebuking Venum.
“Hah. With that kind of cowardly mindset, maybe you should resign your command altogether. You’ve got some nerve airing that out loud.”
“Clinder, I’m not ashamed. Especially not when compared to—”
Venum cut himself off.
A suffocating chill had begun creeping through the room.
He slowly turned toward the head of the table—Hugo was staring at him, his face blank, expression unreadable. Venum closed ◈ Nоvеlіgһт ◈ (Continue reading) his mouth. Meterion, too, said nothing more. The oppressive silence pressing down on them all made it abundantly clear: enough.
As the air in the room grew icier and any sense of open discussion evaporated, Loren let out a quiet sigh. She had tried to stop things before they escalated. Yet those idiots ran their mouths anyway—and now they had managed to provoke Hugo.
Then, breaking the frozen tension, Shorendo spoke.
“May I volunteer?”
At his unexpected words, Venum gave a hollow laugh.
“...Who?”
“I’m talking about me. I want to go.”
As Shorendo stood and raised his hand high, Loren immediately responded.
“You know very well that both the Commander and Deputy Commander can’t be dispatched to the same location. During the general meeting—while you were away—it was already decided that the Commander would personally lead the operation.”
“What? You decided that while I wasn’t here?”
Slumping back into his seat, Shorendo looked thoroughly dejected. Watching him, Hugo rubbed his brow, weariness etched into his features.
“I’m not going to force anyone. Anyone willing to volunteer?”
“Me.”
As someone’s voice rang out, everyone turned their eyes in that direction.
It was Delua Rivera, the 6th Battalion Commander. She raised her hand with ease and spoke brightly.
“I’ve always wanted to visit the Elder Millie Peninsula. Is that alright?”
Her reason was so simple it caught Hugo slightly off guard—but his expression softened.
“Of course. Anyone else?”
“I’ll go too.”
The next to raise his hand was Meterion Clinder, the 3rd Battalion Commander. His unexpected decision drew surprised glances from all around the table. Hugo was just as caught off guard—but chose not to ask why.
With two battalion commanders having volunteered, Noel Presentia, the 11th Battalion Commander, leaned over and whispered to Venum with a faint smile.
“Looks like you’re the only one scared of him after all.”
“...Still pretending to be so noble, huh?”
Irritated by how the situation had shifted—leaving him as the sole coward—Venum turned his head away in frustration.
With the expedition battalions now confirmed, the meeting gained momentum. It was decided that the duties of the outgoing members would be divided among the remaining personnel at headquarters. The expeditionary battalions would split their forces into company-sized units and prepare for deployment.
As things neared conclusion, Hugo gave a final summary.
“Alright. Then, excluding companies and platoons from the expedition battalions that are currently tied up with nontransferable assignments, we’ll reinforce the subjugation force with one platoon from the 1st Battalion—they’re our combat specialists.”
“Yes, understood.”
“Understood.”
“And the full subjugation team will consist of the battalion commanders, unit commanders, and field personnel from the 3rd and 6th Battalions, with additional healers drawn from the 13th Battalion. Any objections?”
“No objection.”
“No objection.”
When Hugo looked around the table, each commander responded in turn. At last, even Shorendo replied with a reluctant “no objection,” sealing unanimous consent.
With that, the expedition force for the Elder Millie Peninsula was officially decided.
"Then the 3rd and 6th Battalions—organize your expedition units and report back. The mission begins in three days, so wrap up all internal transitions by then."
"Understood."
At Hugo’s concise conclusion, everyone in the conference room responded promptly and in unison. He let out a quiet sigh, as though a weight had just been lifted, and rose from his seat.
"Good work, everyone. That concludes the meeting."
"Good work."
With that, the meeting adjourned, and the officers began filing out in quick succession. After neatly organizing the notes he had taken, Hugo exited the conference room once the place had mostly cleared out.
While the others had already dispersed, Loren was still standing alone in the corridor just outside the door. As if it were the most natural thing, Hugo approached her and spoke, his tone tinged with faint disappointment.
"I thought you’d volunteer."
As though expecting the comment, Loren answered immediately, her voice calm and resolute.
"Though I do regret not joining the expedition, I’ve been tailing a group of nobles recently. If I step away now, I’ll lose the lead—it’ll be difficult to reestablish the investigation."
"Ah, is this the case you reported earlier? The one involving mana trading?"
At his question, Loren nodded.
"Yes. Back then, I only had a vague direction. But once I discovered the Delberg Merchant Group’s link to the recent monster smuggling in Frost Territory, the picture became clearer. If they’re capable of distributing magic stones, they could absolutely be trafficking mana as well. From the beginning, I suspected the merchant group’s involvement. There’s always an intermediary in this kind of trade."
Hugo fell into thought for a moment before replying.
"Filione Delberg is careful. Even when they leave traces, it’s never something that the law can actually pin down. That entire group operates with a network of trusted allies. It won’t be easy to bring them down."
"I’m well aware. But I’ve got a feeling—something much bigger is woven into this."
Hugo furrowed his brows slightly.
"Any estimate on the scale?"
"I can’t say definitively. But what I’m seeing now... it’s just the surface."
Her words were vague, but Hugo didn’t dismiss them. He knew Loren’s instincts when it came to tracking down complex cases were razor-sharp. And more importantly—he trusted her deeply. So he didn’t press for more.
"Alright. Then I’ll leave that operation in your hands."
Loren gave a small nod.
Just then, her gaze flicked to a butterfly fluttering past them. A delicate white-winged butterfly danced between her and Hugo, as if it had materialized from the air itself—lingering unusually close without drifting away.
Without warning, Loren drew the sword at her waist and, with a swift motion, cut it from the sky.
The butterfly's pale wings split in two and drifted gently to the ground. Hugo raised a brow at her sudden move.
"Was that necessary?"
"It was circling around us a little too deliberately."
Hugo looked slightly unconvinced.
"Still... that seemed a bit excessive."
"You’re the one who told me—don’t trust anything, even within the Council."
She calmly returned her blade to its sheath, her eyes meeting Hugo’s.
"That aside, I was honestly surprised Clinder volunteered for the peninsula."
Hugo stared for a moment at the two halves of the butterfly now lying at his feet before responding.
"I thought so too, at first..."
"..."
"But his family’s the kind that would stake their lives for honor. When I think of it that way, it’s not so strange after all."
