At the same time, in the capital city of Valcreat, a tense atmosphere could clearly be felt within a restricted area belonging to the kingdom.
Forty warrior-type mages stood in a circular formation, their hands extended forward as they continuously channeled Fue Energy. The flow of energy appeared like thin streams of light, converging toward a single central point.
At the center of the formation, a large-scale teleportation portal spun violently—a swirling mass of unstable light, pulsating as if it could collapse at any moment.
Sweat dripped down the warriors' faces. Their breathing grew heavier, yet not a single one dared to stop channeling their energy.
Standing at the very core was a man wearing the distinctive robes of the Terro family—Quares Terro, thirty-one years old. His arms were spread wide, the veins along them visibly strained as he controlled the flow of Fue Energy being fed into the portal.
Only his family was capable of performing such a technique.
The teleportation sigil was a hereditary power of the Terro family—a rare ability strictly regulated by the kingdom. Across the entire Kingdom of Neltan, only two families were granted such privilege—the Terro family and the Yarnes family. The Yarnes family donated sigil communication where he could contact people who had contracts with him from any distance.
And to open a portal of this scale…
It required at least thirty warriors to channel their Fue Energy simultaneously.
Suddenly—
A silhouette emerged from within the trembling vortex of light.
A final step out of the portal.
A dark-haired man with a relaxed expression, as if nothing unusual had happened—Bradley Conal, thirty-two years old.
A moment later—
The portal shut with a heavy sound, like something forcibly cut off.
"Took you long enough, Brad…" Quares said, his voice filled with fatigue. His shoulders sagged slightly, clearly drained from maintaining the portal for so long.
Bradley simply raised a hand with a casual smile.
"Oh, everyone's already here? My bad, my bad…" he said lightly, showing no sign of guilt.
Without waiting for a response, he walked off toward the royal meeting hall.
Inside the main hall of the Neltan Royal Palace, the atmosphere was far quieter—yet the pressure in the air felt significantly heavier, as if the very space itself was weighed down.
A long, luxurious table stretched across the center of the hall, made of polished dark wood and adorned with intricate carvings along its edges. On both sides of the table, ten chairs were neatly arranged—each representing a position in the Strongest Warrior ranking.
On the right side, five seats were already occupied.
On the left, only two empty seats remained.
And at the center—a main seat—was still vacant.
Bradley entered without haste.
His footsteps echoed softly across the marble floor, drawing slight attention from those already present.
He walked straight to his place… and sat in seat number four.
Now, only one seat remained empty.
Each chair bore its own number:
Seat 1: Matthias Crae (35)
Seat 2: Oscar Wade (36)
Seat 3: Rayyan Bartos (30)
Seat 4: Bradley Conal (32)
Seat 5: Galdric Erout (33)
Seat 6: Cedric Earl (32)
Seat 7: Jai Gendro (25)
Seat 8: Warmey Warran (27)
Seat 9: Varn Karver (26)
And…
Seat 10 remained empty.
Thud…
Thud…
Thud…
The sound of footsteps echoed from outside the hall—slow, steady, and commanding.
The massive doors opened.
A young man in royal attire stepped in calmly, yet with undeniable authority—Feryan Neltan, twenty-three years old.
A strong noble aura filled the entire room, making the atmosphere fall into an even deeper silence.
"So… everyone is here?" Prince Feryan spoke calmly, yet his voice carried enough weight to dominate the entire hall.
At once—
All the Strongest Warriors rose from their seats.
And bowed their heads… in respect.
"This is my first time leading this meeting. Usually… His Majesty presides over it," Prince Feryan said, referring to King Arveth Neltan.
He paused briefly, scanning each face before him.
"So, all of you have heard about the attack on Willowess Fue Academy from Paul Yarnes, correct?"
No one answered.
But all gave their full attention.
"As we know, in this world, individual strength is divided into eight levels. The strength of the Strongest Warriors is evaluated at levels seven to eight."
His voice remained calm, but grew firmer.
"Eight teachers were defeated. All of them were level five… and they were all taken down by a single individual."
Some of the warriors began to show subtle reactions—slightly narrowed eyes, or folded arms.
"From this information, I conclude that this individual is a level six… or possibly level seven threat. A threat that must be handled directly by the Strongest Warriors."
"How many casualties were there from the attack?" Jai Gendro asked, his voice short but sharp.
Prince Feryan fell silent for a moment.
"…No deaths."
Several brows lifted.
"And there were no injuries among the victims. Only the academy building suffered severe destruction…"
He paused.
The hall grew completely silent.
"…Full Angel."
"What?" several Strongest Warriors reacted at once, clearly shocked.
"Full Angel… the rare sigil that appears within the Solv family, perhaps once every hundred years?" Matthias Crae said, his tone far more serious now.
"Yes," Prince Feryan answered without hesitation.
"That rare sigil… has manifested in the daughter of Damnern Solv."
He let out a slow breath.
"Though… I had hoped it would appear in his son instead."
End of Chapter 17