In recent days, the skies above Windmill Nation, Wendem, had been completely painted by the explosions of elemental magic.
Ever since York had "recklessly" slaughtered a squad of the Tribunal's enforcers, a relentless manhunt had been launched against him.
At first, it was only small-scale skirmishes beneath the Saint-tier—mere ants sent to their deaths. These included nobles from the surrounding two empires, clergy of the Inquisition, and covert lines secretly deployed by the Church throughout the Three Great Empires.
Among them, the nobles of the three empires were the main force.
Through the manipulation of some controlled factions, and with large amounts of fake orders and misinformation, the former envoy from the Holy Court had, in effect, become the joint fugitive of the Three Great Empires and a heretic in the eyes of the Tribunal.
He wasn't just wanted by the empires—he was on the Church's kill list.
Yet ridiculously, such an enormous secret was contained within a very limited area: from the Western Commercial Kingdom to the Eastern Garden Nation, including parts of the Ymir and Knight empires.
As for the more distant Scholar Nation and the imperial capitals of the other two empires, they hadn't received a single report.
This meant that all the high-tier operatives in this area had already been dispatched, while the true decision-makers in the capitals still had no idea what had happened.
Only when York, in the Garden Nation, either actively or passively, unleashed various massacres did the emperors in their capitals finally receive the long-delayed "first-hand intelligence"—and were left utterly dumbfounded.
The current emperor of the Ymir Empire, a middle-aged man adorned in flashy jewels and appearing more like a merchant than a sovereign, frowned at the intelligence in his hands.
Although Ymir was a parliamentary-style empire composed of countless noble factions, this emperor was still able to make his orders singularly binding; his political acumen was not to be underestimated.
Seeing the report, his first thought was incredulity:
"A fugitive from the Holy Court, disguised as an envoy, secretly destroyed Verdant City, and then went on a rampage through the Windmill Nation? How is that even possible?"
Yet, seeing the Church's seal on the report, he had no choice but to believe it.
Still, such a major event required careful consideration by the emperors of the Three Great Empires.
Using the Holy Relic: Imperial Throne, the three rulers convened the first "Trilateral Imperial Conference" in a century.
A compact golden chamber, a small round table, and three lavish thrones awaited.
From the founding of the empires, this relic had been jointly held by the emperors, creating a spiritual space that ignored physical boundaries—perfect for exchanging intelligence.
Like the Witches' Courtyard, material transactions weren't possible here. And only three people could enter at once.
The three thrones were now occupied.
The Emperor of the Knight Empire was an elderly man, white-haired but extremely robust. He was the eldest son of Saint Knight Roland, one of the last two surviving sons of the family.
Having been injured during his youth at the Watchtower and witnessing the deaths of his father and younger brother, the power of his lineage within the imperial court had waned. Otherwise, Zephyra would not have had to leave her homeland to study in the Scholar Nation.
The Mage Empire's emperor was a striking woman, clad in light leather armor, with a massive longbow slung on her back. She looked more like a warrior than a mage. Known as Arlanta, the "Mage-Slayer," she had once fought the legendary Magic Witch and emerged undefeated.
Rumor had it that she had been on good terms with the Magic Witch, otherwise she wouldn't have allowed the witch's guild to dominate the entire Wind Nation.
Finally, the youngest, Emperor Niklaus of the Ymir Empire, broke the silence.
He stroked his small mustache, regarded the other two shrewdly, and probed:
"Have you both seen the intelligence from the Church?"
Seeing them nod, he continued:
"This traitor from the Holy Court has slaughtered millions of innocent civilians in Verdant and Wendem, dozens of Sixth-Tier operatives, and countless ordinary transcendent individuals in surrounding regions.
What do you intend to do about it?"
Hearing this, Oliver Knight, the elderly Emperor of the Knight Empire, frowned but said nothing.
Arlanta, however, spoke first:
"A clumsy performance. For a warrant like this, the approval of all three archbishops is required, yet Sorcel's archbishop hasn't received any such request."
"We're in the same situation in Knight," Oliver added after a moment.
Niklaus's expression darkened. Embarrassed, he explained:
"Our archbishop in Ymir just approved it. The joint warrant should still be on its way. It's normal that your archbishops haven't received it yet."
"No, this is not normal," Oliver said gravely, his aged face solemn.
"Long before the joint warrant was issued, forces around Wendem had already received orders to enter the Windmill Nation and capture York. And it wasn't until most of their men had died that we received any news.
When did our intelligence network become this unreliable? Clearly, someone is sabotaging things behind the scenes."
"Yes, yes, I thought the same," Niklaus said with a faint smile, which was precisely why he had convened this meeting. He suspected something was wrong but, since this was an order from the Tribunal, he dared not ignore it.
This was the legacy of their ancestors' struggle for the throne—someone had to share the responsibility.
But before the other two could respond, Arlanta, who had remained silent until now, spoke coldly:
"Even if something went wrong, why should it concern us?"