Translator: AnubisTL
As night deepened over Elosia City, the study in Jieming Manor remained brightly lit.
Jieming, clad in loose robes, tapped his finger, sending the final hidden glimmer of light into the wall. The room's atmosphere instantly became seamless, with not a trace of energy leaking outward.
After a brief sensing, he withdrew his hand with satisfaction.
He had barely rested in the days since returning from the banquet.
Having successfully deceived the surveillance systems in his manor, he had been working tirelessly, finally completing the construction of all the necessary magic formations.
"First... let's test it."
After a moment's thought, Jieming retrieved a metal disc. A palm-sized miniature space teleportation array glowed faintly on its surface.
These small arrays could only perform point-to-point short-range teleportation and required pre-configured nodes at both ends.
He had already set up the corresponding node in the underground laboratory of his Golden Harbor mansion.
He stepped onto the array.
Space twisted, and in an instant, he found himself in the secret underground chamber of the dilapidated mansion in Golden Harbor.
The air reeked of blood.
In several specially reinforced steel cages beside the chamber, the three captured orc generals lay slumped, barely alive.
Their heads hung low, their bodies covered in cuts and burns.
Jieming had been gone for over half a month. These creatures, already in an unnatural state, had endured the entire time without food or water. Their life force now flickered weakly, like candles in a gale.
"Excellent," Jieming chuckled. "It seems the space teleportation device is functioning perfectly. Now I can continue my research even within the royal city."
He stepped closer and examined them briefly, a cold smile curving his lips. "Not bad. Truly worthy of your legendary status. Enduring this environment... I was worried you'd starve to death."
"You..." An orc general glared up at him, but his weakened body left him only the strength to glare.
Jieming clapped his hands. "Don't worry. Now that I'm here, I won't let you starve. Though, from your perspective, starvation might be a preferable outcome."
"Orcs... will never yield," another orc general spat out with a contemptuous snort.
Jieming watched a silver-white magic puppet approach at his command, then shrugged helplessly at the three orcs. "Regrettably, I never needed you to yield in the first place..."
He pulled out several pouches of freshly prepared nutrient solution and handed them to the puppet. "Inject these. Keep them alive."
After checking the orc's condition in the cage and confirming it still had "utility value," Jieming turned and walked out of the basement, following the corridor to the manor's courtyard.
He leisurely surveyed his surroundings.
Golden Harbor had long since fallen to the orcs. The once-luxurious city was now a war-ravaged ruin, littered with rubble and charred timbers that still radiated faint heat from lingering embers.
Vast swathes of buildings had been razed to the ground, serving as makeshift camps for orc and human forces alike.
Only Jieming's manor stood out conspicuouslyโat least, from the inside looking out.
From the outside, the manor appeared no different from the other ruins, reduced to rubble like everything else.
This was precisely the effect of the meticulously crafted concealment magic formation Jieming had activated before leaving Golden Harbor.
Beyond concealing the true state of the interior, this illusion formation could synchronize with the surrounding environment, projecting a perfect illusion of ruins identical to the external devastation.
Moreover, as a high-level formation, it suppressed the manor's presence, making it seem less real.
Simultaneously, the formation's embedded Subconscious Repulsion Technique subtly induced unease and discomfort in anyone who inadvertently approached, subconsciously driving them away.
"Perfect," Jieming chuckled softly. "This laboratory was a significant investment, but it seems the results are well worth it."
A few days later.
With the space teleportation device, Jieming had been immersed in research at his secret laboratory in Golden Harbor.
Suddenly, he looked up from his experiments, alerted by an alarm.
This alarm system, set up at his mansion in the royal capital, would immediately notify him of any visitors.
Activating the surveillance screen, he saw a figure outside his mansion wearing the insignia of the Royal Guard, their demeanor urgent.
He immediately halted his experiment. With a touch, his isolation suit transformed into a loose, soft robe.
Stepping into the space teleportation array, a flash of spatial light transported him back to his study in his mansion in the royal capital.
He subtly suppressed his qi, pretending to have just finished reading, and calmly pushed open the study door.
Outside the door, the butler raised his hand to knock, announcing that the Royal Guard Captain and a messenger were waiting in the living room.
"Advisor Jack!" The Royal Guard Captain immediately bowed respectfully upon seeing Jieming, his expression a mix of reverence and urgency. "Your Majesty has ordered you to proceed immediately to the royal palace council hall to observe the kingdom's negotiations with the orc and elven delegations."
Jieming was slightly taken aback.
As merely a "special advisor," a largely ceremonial position, he wouldn't normally be involved in such high-level diplomatic negotiations.
Though puzzled, he maintained a calm demeanor. "Oh? Does His Majesty wish me to provide insights into the orcs?"
The messenger replied respectfully, "His Majesty did not specify. He simply stated that these negotiations are of paramount importance and that he seeks to gather diverse perspectives."
"Very well, I'll go at once," Jieming nodded in agreement.
Gaining access to more information was naturally something he welcomed.
Deep within the royal palace, in Otto Reich III's private study, the king set down the scroll in his hand and fixed his gaze on the chief minister, who stood before him, bowing deeply. "Has that 'Jack' already gone to the council hall?"
The chief minister bowed lower. "Your Majesty, as you instructed, we sent someone to summon him."
Otto Reich III let out a cold laugh, leaning back in his wide, ornate chair. "Let him go. It'll be good to disgust the orcs."
"Hmph, they're just a bunch of barbarians. Even if they pull off some clever tricks, that's all they amount to." Otto Reich III narrowed his eyes. "By sending this 'discarded piece' to the negotiating table, we can catch him contacting the mission. That will give us more intelligence to use against them."
He paused, a glint of cunning flashing in his eyes. "Even if he manages to restrain himself and doesn't contact the mission, his mere presence there will be like a thorn in the orc delegation's side. It will unsettle them, make them think their trump cards have been exposed, and sow paranoia. That alone will be enough."
"Your Majesty's wisdom is unparalleled," the chief minister said, his voice as steady and emotionless as a still pond.
The council hall of the royal palace was thick with tension.
On either side of the long negotiation table sat the core ministers of the human kingdoms and representatives of the orc delegation.
The elven and dwarf delegations, acting as mediators, were also present.
Jieming sat in a corner of the gallery, playing the inconspicuous role of "special advisor."
The negotiations had stalled after several rounds, reaching a deadlock.
"Humans, our demands are clear. You must compensate us with the agreed-upon resources and pay for the losses your delays have caused our kingdom!" the orc delegation's chief, a burly orc elder, boomed, his voice carrying an undeniable air of arrogance.
"Orcs! We are willing to provide the agreed-upon resources, but you must also pay for seizing our cities!"
"Bullshit! Those are our spoils of war!"
"You fucking..."
"Orcish profanity."
As the so-called negotiations devolved into another shouting match, some glances couldn't help but drift toward the elven and dwarf delegations.
After all, these two races had been invited precisely to mediate between the humans and orcs during critical moments.
Unfortunately, seeking their help proved worse than useless.
Among the elven delegation, the female elf whom Jieming had sensed the unusual qi from at the banquet, rose to her feet.
Tall and haughty, her voice dripped with disdain as she declared, "Both your races only know how to take, never how to give. To ally with such crude peoples would only tarnish the glory of the elves!"
Jieming's eyelid twitched at this outrageous remark. Is she trying to mediate or pour fuel on the fire...?
What was even more absurd was that, though the other elves remained silent, their expressions involuntarily betrayed their agreement.
As expected, the elf's inflammatory words quickly drew a response.
"Long-eared bitch, I'll fucking..."
The chief of the orc delegation was the first to lash out, followed immediately by a minister from the human delegation.
"Royal Capital Profanity!"
The elves retaliated with equal vehemence: "Elven Elegant Profanity!"
As for the dwarves, those taciturn fellows had no intention of voicing their opinions from the start, content to drink themselves into a stupor.
"Did you hear? The chief of the orc delegation got into a fight with the patrol outside the city, ranting about 'orc honor being desecrated.' If the Mage Association hadn't intervened in time, someone would have died," one servant whispered to another.
"And Seraphina of the elvesโher every word drips with condescension, as if the orcs and humans are utterly worthless. Does she even want this alliance to succeed?" another noble aide grumbled, frowning.
"The dwarves are no better. That female dwarf chief keeps droning on about the importance of their technology and mineral resources, but she refuses to commit to supporting the war effort. Stubborn as a mountain."
Jieming overheard these whispers and felt a growing unease.
It seemed the various races had long grown accustomed to their mutual animosity.
Yet something felt off.
He subtly shifted his gaze toward the foreign delegations. He now knew that the three "unusual" individuals he'd noticed at the previous banquet were the leaders of their respective missions.
The elven woman sat with haughty grace, as if the outcome of the negotiations held no consequence for her.
The orc warrior was locked in a heated exchange with a human minister, their voices rising in anger.
The dwarf woman, meanwhile, clutched a wineskin, taking occasional swigs, her eyes glazed and unfocused.
With the three delegation leaders remaining passive, the atmosphere grew increasingly tense, the air thick with simmering resentment.
(End of the Chapter)
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