SSS Talent: From Trash to Tyrant Chapter 578: The Concordant Wardens of the Council

Elowen au Veyrath maintained her standing position.

Her eyes, the color of pale jade, shifted towards the man positioned at the heart of the grand chamber. At that moment, every Elder present understood that the formal proceedings had concluded, leaving ceremony behind. The significant name had already been uttered. The official decree, meticulously recorded by scribes, scrutinized by jurists, debated in closed sessions, and revised numerous times to the point of exhausting lesser councils, had been finalized.

"Eldric au Veyr," Elowen declared, her voice possessing a coolness that seemed to lower the temperature within the chamber, "you are appointed captain of the crucial project this Council is on the verge of unleashing upon the world. The decree has traversed every necessary channel, passed through every designated hand. Our scribes have dutifully inscribed it. Our jurists have meticulously purged every extraneous word. This Council has consummated the intricate details behind the veil of sealed chambers."

Her intense gaze remained fixed upon him.

"Now, speak of the ultimate structure of this endeavor. Do so not as a mere petitioner, but as the individual destined to bear the weight of this formidable force once it departs from this chamber."

Eldric au Veyr’s gaze first met hers. Subsequently, his steely gray eyes swept across the assembled circle, making contact with each Elder with an unhurried deliberation. He offered no profound bow. He did not adorn the gravity of the moment with any superfluous gestures. When he finally spoke, his voice, steady and resonant, commanded the attention of every corner of the chamber—the unmistakable timbre of a man accustomed to being heard above the clamor of devastation.

"The Concordant Wardens, answerable to this Council, shall not be conceived as an ordinary military force in any conceivable aspect."

A respectful silence permeated the chamber; no one dared to interrupt.

"We shall bear no family insignia. Our allegiance shall be sworn to no noble house sigil. We shall inherit no private vendettas, no shallow pride rooted in lineage, no archaic grudges masquerading as sacred duty. This dedicated force will owe its fealty solely to the Council, and by extension, to the very people of this world whom we consistently fail to shield when arrogant power prioritizes political maneuvering over immediate, effective response."

Eldric’s unwavering gaze did not waver.

"Our mandate will compel us to intervene wherever local defense falters, where neutral territories are left vulnerable and exposed, where a lesser city finds itself confronted by a threat exceeding its capacity, or where intervention by a single family risks igniting a far larger conflict than the disaster itself. Consider Velkaris. Consider Carac. Consider Mariven Port. Any city operating under neutral jurisdiction, any diminutive territory lacking the inherent strength for self-preservation, any crucial road, vital harbor, strategic Gate, contested border, or isolated settlement where lives hang precariously in the balance, awaiting the arrival of a sufficiently powerful entity. "Monstrous entities, sentient beasts of unnatural origin, cataclysmic magical phenomena, volatile Gates leading to unknown realms, cross-boundary emergencies that defy conventional explanation, treacherous Rifts, and Void incursions when they inevitably manifest. The Wardens will be meticulously engineered to confront and neutralize all such threats."

His voice, though still carrying, softened fractionally in volume.

"The sole domains exempt from our immediate operational reach will be the strictly internal territories belonging to the Great Families and any sovereign houses possessing the established strength to assert direct jurisdictional authority. Nevertheless, even within these enclaves, should a catastrophic event breach their designated borders, the Wardens will not hesitate to act, nor will they seek prior authorization to safeguard the world situated beyond their fortified walls."

Mairon di Aurelmar was the first among the esteemed Elders to voice his query.

The aquatic Elder delicately rested his elongated fingers along the ornate armrest of his chair. Even within the confines of the chamber, a subtle aroma of brine and damp earth seemed to emanate from him.

"On land, your operational reach appears sufficiently delineated," Mairon stated, his voice laced with the ebb and flow of the ocean. "However, at sea, asserting authority becomes a far more intricate challenge. Vessels are known to disappear without a single witness. Cargo frequently changes hands covertly before any official seal can be authenticated. Furthermore, coastal magnates are prone to delaying vital reports if such transmissions might disadvantage them financially. While the Council will readily provide you with naval assets, financial resources, and access to specific designated ports, I require a precise methodology to be officially recorded. How precisely will you render aid and enforce your mandate when the critical emergency originates beyond the coastline?"

Eldric turned his attention directly towards Mairon.

"By perceiving the sea not as an obstacle or an excuse for inaction, but as a conduit, a pathway for swift response. We shall establish highly mobile operational units, interlinked with strategically located coastal garrisons and Council-sanctioned harbor authorities. When the emergent threat pertains solely to matters of maritime trade, our initial investigation will proceed through meticulous examination of existing records. However, when civilian lives are demonstrably in peril, our directive will be to act decisively first, and engage in formal disputes thereafter."

Mairon’s eyes, deep and reflective like the abyssal waters, narrowed ever so slightly.

"And should these designated ports choose to lodge formal objections?"

"They will have the liberty to object once the imperiled civilians have been successfully rescued and secured," Eldric retorted firmly. "My conviction lies not in placating transient pride at the expense of expediency, particularly when it risks a dignified burial for those who could otherwise have been saved."

A barely perceptible sound, akin to a stifled chuckle, emanated from Raukan von Harrak.

Vaelra di Kharzun then addressed the assembly, her pale, slender hands clasped demurely in her lap. Her dark crimson eyes remained fixated on Eldric, unblinking.

"The precise articulation of the decree’s wording is paramount. If the decree permits intervention based on mere `threat,` then every panicked municipal leader will invariably accuse their rivals of posing such a threat. Conversely, if the wording specifies `calamity,` influential nobles may engage in protracted debates over its precise definition while neighborhoods are engulfed in flames. We deliberately selected the term `cross-boundary emergency` for a very specific reason. It bestows formidable authority upon the Wardens without inadvertently providing a convenient tool for foolish individuals to manipulate."

Elowen offered a slight, acknowledging inclination of her head.

"The established wording shall remain entirely unaltered."

Orselyn di Vharos lifted her chin subtly. Her cascade of silver hair cascaded over one shoulder, and her voice, delivered with measured elegance, carried the weight of centuries of accumulated knowledge and ancestral legacy.

"Certain prominent bloodlines may endeavor to co-opt the Wardens’ intervention into their own internal disputes, situations where they recognize their inability to prevail unaided. Conversely, other factions might actively obstruct the Wardens’ passage, seeking to conceal their illicit activities behind the supposed sanctity of their family strongholds. Both categories of actions must be meticulously documented. The former shall be classified as misuse of authority, the latter as outright obstruction."

Eldric’s response came swiftly, without a trace of hesitation.

"Then let them be recorded as such. I shall neither engage in clandestine conflicts under the guise of official operations, nor will I turn a blind eye to clear public peril simply because a local lord chooses to categorize it as a private matter."

Raukan von Harrak settled back into his chair. The Elder, whose lineage bore the mark of the tiger, appeared more like a warrior compelled to sit in judgment rather than a scholar suited for ceremonial robes. His amber eyes held no tolerance for hesitant responses.

"You have selected individuals of a perilous nature because those who are safe would perish swiftly. I comprehend this reasoning. However, what I require to be officially recorded is this: should any one of them falter during the formation, the culpability will fall upon this table first. Not solely on you, Eldric, but on all of us here."

Eldric's expression remained unchanged.

"Then let the blame fall here. If this Council desires a force composed of individuals with gentle hands, then dismiss me and hire scribes. The First Concord will be comprised of those capable of enduring what polite soldiers cannot."

A coin slipped through Seraphiel au Lareth's fingers, moving with silent grace. It had been traveling over his knuckles since the meeting commenced, shifting from one digit to another with the practiced finesse of a trained spellcaster. Now, its movement slowed.

"All of this hinges on the assumption that the Great Families will permit a neutral entity to operate so freely across the realm," Seraphiel stated. "They assented to the concept because its primary threat was directed away from their own interests, at least on paper. Yet, parchment has never deterred a powerful house from taking offense."

Armand du Morgain responded from Elowen's right-hand side.

"The Great Families tolerate a great many things when the alternative presents a more significant cost."

Seraphiel's gaze shifted towards him.

The coin came to a halt.

"That sentiment is easily voiced when one bears the Morgain name."

The atmosphere in the chamber grew more intense. Armand's voice, however, remained steady. His grey eyes fixed upon Seraphiel with the weary patience of someone who had faced sharper rebukes from more formidable adversaries.

"I bear the name I was given at birth."

Seraphiel offered a faint smile, devoid of genuine amusement.

"And some of us had to forfeit our names before anyone would believe we could speak without being beholden to them."

Armand's hand rested still upon the armrest.

"You speak as if the forfeiture somehow sanctified you."

"No," Seraphiel replied. "It enlightened me."

The coin resumed its movement, now at a slower pace.

"A name like Morgain or Vaelion is never merely a name. It precedes the individual into any room. It commands fools to listen and intimidates cowards into submission. I lost mine, and suddenly, men who once considered me kin discovered their principles. They deemed me dangerous only after I became inconvenient."

Armand's voice deepened with a heavier tone.

"Then your grievance lies with the individuals who cast you out, not with an old soldier who refused to deny his lineage simply because he wears these black robes."

Seraphiel's fingers tightened around the coin.

"You possessed the option to alter that."

"I could have," Armand conceded. "But I chose differently."

Armand leaned forward slightly.

"Do not mistake my adherence to my name for unthinking loyalty, Seraphiel. I am not the one who sought to erase his past. You were."

Seraphiel's jaw clenched.

"I shed my obedience. The past, however, remained, as you can plainly see."

"Then cease speaking as if only exile can teach a man the true meaning of family."

Elowen's voice intervened before the nascent conflict could escalate further.

"Enough. This Council is already burdened with numerous old grievances. If every Elder were to spill their personal history across this table, we would be submerged before the decree is even announced." Seraphiel's coin ceased its motion.

Armand settled back in his seat.

Elowen's gaze shifted between the two men.

"Armand du Morgain holds his seat here because his documented achievements have rightfully earned it. Seraphiel au Lareth is present because the loss of his name did not diminish the value of his intellect. The Wardens will require both forms of understanding: those who grasp the inner workings of families from within, and those who have learned what those families become when loyalty sours."

The ensuing silence carried a palpable weight, yet it respected her command.

Eldric made no comment regarding their exchange.

He simply continued his address.

"The First Concord will commence with eight candidates."

Several pairs of eyes snapped back towards him simultaneously.

"Mere strength has never been the sole criterion. If I desired eight foolishly strong individuals, I could empty half the young barracks of any noble city and call it progress. I have selected individuals who can withstand uncertainty, act decisively without awaiting perfect orders, and survive the animosity generated by those whose crises they resolve. The First Concord is forged from unique individuals. Some possess experience. Others rely on instinct. Some are dangerous in ways that require careful shaping before they can be entrusted. None will be finalized until I declare it so. You will come to know them in due course."

Elowen regarded him thoughtfully for a prolonged moment.

"And you willingly accept the responsibility for molding them into a force that this Council can deploy without subsequent regret?"

Eldric met her gaze directly.

"No force can be deployed without leaving some trace of regret. My responsibility is to ensure that the regret is overshadowed by the averted disaster."