In a hidden chamber, sealed away from the eyes of the public and buried deep within layers of secrecy, the clandestine opposition faction gathered once more. The room itself seemed forgotten by time—its stone walls swallowed by dim, wavering shadows, its air thick with tension. The only sounds were the uneven rhythm of breathing and the faint clink of cups brushing against the massive stone table, each sound feeling heavier than it should, as though even noise had to struggle to exist in this place.
The moment had finally come to move forward into the second phase of their plan.
The rumors they had previously planted, and the conspiracies they had carefully woven like invisible threads through society, were beginning to bear fruit. The image of the "Messenger of the World Tree" was no longer untouchable, no longer sacred in the eyes of all. Doubt, once a fragile seed, had begun to take root within the hearts of the elves, slowly but surely spreading its unseen branches.
Yet, for them, this was still not enough.
Their goal was no longer mere defamation.
They needed something far more decisive—something that would force both the king and the entire society to turn openly against him.
One of the men spoke in a low, measured voice:
"Phase one succeeded… but doubt alone is insufficient."
Another leaned forward slightly, his tone colder:
"We need a greater incident… one that makes defending him impossible."
For a brief moment, silence swallowed the room.
Then, at last, the leader of the faction spoke.
A faint, almost elegant smile curved upon his lips—one that carried no warmth at all.
"Then… let us give them such an incident."
All eyes turned toward him.
"We will kill one of the elder priests."
A ripple passed through the room. Some eyes widened in visible shock.
The elder priests were not merely religious figures. They were pillars of respect within elven society—beings whose names alone carried weight across generations.
But the leader continued calmly, as though discussing something trivial.
"And we will leave every piece of evidence pointing directly to the Messenger of the World Tree."
The choice of target, however, was far from random.
The priest they had selected had long been one of their most stubborn opponents, an obstacle standing in the path of their ambitions for years. Removing him would serve a dual purpose—erasing an old thorn in their side while simultaneously framing Leo.
One strike… two birds falling at once.
---
Elsewhere, Leo was listening.
Through the surveillance spell he had previously planted, every word, every whisper of their discussion reached him clearly.
And with each passing sentence, he could not help but exhale softly.
"Disappointing…"
he murmured under his breath.
Their second plan was almost identical to the first.
The same framing.
The same structure.
Even the same shallow thinking, repeated without evolution.
"It seems creativity is not their strong suit."
Still, this time, he decided not to ignore them.
He would respond directly.
---
Over the past days, Leo had continued refining the "Multiple Clones" ability he had obtained from the Gigaar.
Through deep understanding of magic itself, he finally achieved a breakthrough.
His clones could now speak.
But the process was far from simple.
It required precise vocal mimicry through an intricate layer of magic control, demanding absolute focus and mental stability. A single deviation could distort the voice, exposing the illusion instantly.
However, for someone like Leo…
it was only a matter of refinement.
---
At dawn the next day, one of the faction's couriers arrived at their hidden headquarters.
He bowed and reported:
"My lord… the mission has been completed."
"The priest is dead."
"And all evidence has been placed exactly as planned."
Silence followed.
Then, slowly, a cruel smile formed on the leader's face—the expression of a man who had finally closed his trap.
"Then… it is time to move."
---
Not long after, the faction members entered the royal council hall.
They took their positions calmly, as though nothing had happened. As though the world itself had not already begun shifting under their feet.
And the moment the meeting was fully assembled…
the strike began.
One minister suddenly rose, shouting:
"Your Majesty! Another incident has occurred!"
His voice carried fabricated urgency.
"An elder priest has been murdered!"
"A crime that cannot be forgiven!"
Another immediately followed:
"Since the appearance of the Messenger of the World Tree, tragedies have been happening one after another!"
The king's thoughts darkened.
These bastards…
A third voice joined:
"Have the previous investigations yielded anything at all?"
"How long must we remain passive?"
Within moments, the hall dissolved into a storm of whispers and accusations.
The king found himself cornered.
Every circumstance pointed in a single direction.
Timing.
Evidence.
Public perception.
Even if it all felt deliberately constructed, there was nothing concrete to prove otherwise.
Then suddenly—
Eliaria stood.
Her voice was firm, cutting through the chaos:
"This is clearly orchestrated!"
Silence fell for a heartbeat.
Then a minister sneered.
"And what proof do you have, Princess?"
Eliaria froze.
Because she had none.
She believed in Leo—but belief alone meant nothing in a hall ruled by politics and logic.
The king closed his eyes briefly.
When he opened them again, his voice was heavy:
"Until his innocence is proven…"
"The Messenger of the World Tree will be treated as guilty."
Deep inside, he thought bitterly:
We've reached a dead end.
Eliaria felt helplessness crush her chest.
For the first time in a long while… she truly did not know what to do.
In just a few days, Leo's image collapsed before everyone's eyes—from a sacred envoy of the World Tree… to a suspect in grave crimes.
And the leader of the faction sat quietly, wearing the calm smile of a victor.
Everything was under control.
Or so he believed.
---
Then—
The door slowly opened.
Silence fell instantly.
Every head turned.
And for the first time in the entire meeting…
their expressions changed completely.
Because the person who entered was the last one they expected to see.
Leo.
He stepped forward with calm, unhurried confidence, as though walking into his own garden rather than a den of wolves.
No trace of anxiety.
No hint of fear.
Only a quiet stillness that unsettled the entire room more than any hostility could.
The Messenger of the World Tree had walked directly into the lion's den.
And the only question left was—
how would he overturn a situation that seemed already decided?
Would he be condemned as a criminal…
or was he here to flip the entire board itself?