Gardenia’s Heart

“How should I act, Thelira?”

Walking a short distance behind the elf in a modest yet extremely light dress, the silver-haired girl glanced around with visible unease.

After returning from the Library of Scales and scolding Selene for leaving her behind to paint landscapes, Lily had discussed the next day’s matters with Thelira.

Since the first formal council meeting would take place in the morning, one of them needed to accompany the high elf. Lily was chosen to follow Thelira, while Nia and Selene would look after the children.

Although she knew a bit about etiquette—having studied it out of curiosity—knowing how to use tableware properly wouldn’t exactly help her in a political meeting with the leaders of other nations.

“Lady Lily may remain silent throughout the entire discussion without concern. I will answer any questions they ask. So, even if it may be rude of me to request this, unless they attempt to attack us physically, I ask that you do not intervene.”

The seriousness and tone with which Thelira said this made Lily swallow hard.

This would not be a battle of fists or an exaggerated display of magic. This was a place where insults would be wrapped in sweet smiles, and any stumble in rhetoric could bring trouble upon an entire nation. This would be a battle of words.

“Among those we already know, Tiamat will be present. In addition, the representative of the dwarves will attend. I’ve been informed that he is the leader of the smiths from their capital.”

“Wait, so it’s not the dwarven hero who came to the meeting?” Lily tilted her head in confusion.

“I’ve heard that except in extremely important situations, the dwarven hero does not leave the capital. I myself have only seen him once, when he visited the elven capital after the defeat of the Demon King.”

Although her first encounter with Elarielle hadn’t been particularly friendly, Lily couldn’t hide her disappointment at not meeting another of those called heroes. With everything that had happened, she’d lost the chance to ask about the dragon hero, so she had been hoping to meet the dwarven one at the council.

“Nowadays, a large portion of the artifacts we use are technologies developed by dwarven smiths. For example, the man we’re about to meet is the one who created the beacons and mana compasses that all races use to navigate the mist.”

Lily remembered that the seal keeping the accumulation of black mana beneath the World Tree contained had been built by the dwarven hero. If most of the artifacts used by humans were merely attempts to replicate dwarven creations, she couldn’t imagine what else they might be capable of producing.

“Even with the peace treaty we have with Anthus, sales to humans are sporadic and rare. Additionally, since dragons do not purchase our healing potions or medicines, nearly all of our external trade revenue within Phaea comes from the dwarves, who regularly buy grain and fruit-bearing seeds. In this meeting, our second priority is to maintain a good relationship with them and ensure that our business ties remain stable.”

As they walked, Thelira paused for a moment, letting out a short, weary sigh before resuming her stride and reclaiming her flawless posture.

Beyond the hills of the Fang Clan, a small crystal-clear lake reflected the strong sunlight. Even early in the morning, the breeze stirred the green grass, and Lily had to raise a hand over her single exposed eye to look toward the lake’s radiant center. Suspended and connected by a wooden bridge, a modest gazebo with three chairs and a round table stood over the water.

Watching as Thelira merely adjusted her light dress and walked beneath the bridge, Lily followed closely behind her toward the gazebo. Seated on one of the chairs, Tiamat sipped a cup of crimson tea in a relaxed manner, her expression unreadable behind the golden mask covering her eyes, offering no hint of what she might be thinking.

“Good morning, Lady Thelira. I hope your night in our facilities was to your satisfaction.” Placing the teacup she had been drinking from onto its saucer, the white-haired woman with wings soft as feathers subtly curved her lips before gesturing toward one of the chairs.

“Certainly. It was an indescribable experience in a pleasant environment. I also thank you for the care taken with the dinner, Sovereign Tiamat.”

Taking her seat, Thelira began conversing about light topics regarding the accommodations and surroundings. As the two representatives of their respective realms spoke, Lily wondered what she herself should do. The final chair was clearly not meant for her, so she searched for a reference to follow. Behind Tiamat, a young girl with almost no discernible presence quietly removed the empty teacup from the table, placed it on one of the carts, and returned to stand behind the chair.

Cicuta stood behind her sister with both hands clasped behind her back in a respectful posture. Mimicking her, Lily assumed the same stance, careful to remain close to Thelira so she could act if anything happened.

“Well now, it seems I’m the last to arrive. How inelegant of me, wouldn’t you say? Am I late, by any chance?”

The visibly hoarse voice made everyone present turn their attention toward the bridge leading to the gazebo.

His figure was short and broad, yet impossible to ignore. His long, thick beard fell in untamed waves, marked by the soot of countless forges that seemed impossible to wash away even after centuries of labor. Deep wrinkles carved his face, and his small black eyes carried a faint metallic sheen. The top of his head was smooth, reflecting the morning light, while dark gray hair lined the sides, trailing down over his heavy-looking garments.

“In fact, you are still one minute and thirty seconds early for the meeting, Elder Ipomoea.” With a thin smile, Tiamat commented casually, her hands resting atop one another on her lap.

“I see. Then that’s perfect.” His thick, calloused hands combed through his long beard in slow, vertical motions. With heavy steps for someone of his small stature, Ipomoea walked across the gazebo toward the last chair, his gaze settling on one particular girl. “Since we didn’t have the chance to greet one another earlier, I would like to extend my greetings to Lady Elarielle, but… how unexpected. I was told another member of the elven royal family had come here.”

Sitting down, the dwarven elder smiled, his black eyes gleaming with curiosity.

“It is a pleasure to meet you, Elder Ipomoea. I am Lophantera Thelira Phaea, bearer of the title of Sage.” Returning his gaze with a smile that did not reach her eyes, Thelira narrowed her stare, her crescent-moon-shaped pupils sharpening. “I regret that your expectation of meeting my sister was frustrated. However, as you well know, the queen has many internal matters to attend to, so it is only natural that others—just as capable and suitable as she is—would be entrusted with duties related to politics.”

“So the elves still use Phaea as part of their names? This continent doesn’t belong exclusively to you, you know,” Ipomoea retorted, now scratching his beard without looking at Thelira.

“That is a tradition inherited through our lineage. Naturally, I do not believe this to be an exclusive right of ours. The dwarves and their royal line—as well as the dragons—are more than worthy of using that name should they wish, wouldn’t you agree?”

Unaware of the sharp exchange between the representatives, Lily couldn’t stop herself from glancing at the old man. After all, this was the first dwarf she had ever seen in person.

Aside from his height, there was nothing that truly distinguished him from a short human one might encounter anywhere else. However, the sheer amount of mana radiating from him made it clear to Lily that he was anything but ordinary.

According to Thelira’s explanation, he was the one who had developed the beacon system that allowed people across the world to navigate the Demon King’s fog. Lily still remembered the first time she had truly interacted with that system, when she purchased a mana compass from the smiths of Stardust Spring.

She wanted to keep observing the dwarf, to see if she could notice any other details to share later with Nia and Rose, but she could no longer ignore the piercing gaze directed toward her.

Now standing behind the dwarf, the last person to enter the gazebo and make her presence known at the meeting made Lily uneasy.

Her slender frame appeared fragile at first glance, yet her flawless posture—even while wearing a dress—clearly reflected the difference in status shaped by years of etiquette training. Short hair of a soft orange hue framed her face lightly, swaying like petals in the wind. Her amber eyes resembled pure honey, matching the two black antennae rising from her head. Her golden dress flowed around her body, interwoven with black tones, and an opening in the back left space for two pairs of thin, translucent wings and a black stinger.

She was a member of the Rhei race—Lily didn’t need to think twice about that.

The silver-haired girl recalled hearing Rhei explain that the Golden Hive, her homeland, was politically very close to the dwarven kingdom, so it made sense that one of their most important members would accompany them.

Lily wondered if this was the very person the woman who had sworn herself as her servant had been trying to avoid, yet she couldn’t understand why the woman’s amber eyes were so firmly fixed on her.

There was no bloodlust—she was merely staring in silence. Lily briefly wondered if this was the kind of intimidation she herself was supposed to be performing as part of Thelira’s escort. Cicuta, however, seemed indifferent to everyone, keeping her head lowered as if her presence were irrelevant, offering no example to follow.

Deciding not to overthink it, Lily simply tried to ignore the gaze and do as Thelira had instructed earlier—avoid conflict.

“First of all, please forgive me for being the only one present to represent the dragons at this meeting.” Clearing her throat lightly, Tiamat drew everyone’s attention. “As Fafnir left no living descendants, a new leader for the Wing Clan has yet to be decided. This is a very important process, and I want it to be carried out in the best possible way.”

“It’s quite alright. I believe you are more than capable of handling our affairs, Lady Tiamat. It’s simply a shame that we’ve never had the opportunity to greet the leader of the Scale Clan in person,” Ipomoea said in a gentle tone, carrying a respect that, throughout the entire conversation, he had never once directed at Thelira.

“Unfortunately, Bahamut will not be able to honor us with her presence at today’s meeting. As you well know, the Scale Clan is responsible for watching over the borders between Phaea and Finis and maintaining peace in our lands. As such, we have no right to interfere with her schedule,” Tiamat replied, resting one hand against her cheek as she let out a light sigh.

“Yes, of course. I would never presume to force our esteemed hero to abandon her post,” Ipomoea nodded, sighing as well.

Returning to his carefree posture, the old dwarf crossed one leg over the other and leaned back against his chair, directing his gaze toward the elven delegation.

“I heard the elves brought two humans and a demi-human to this meeting, but to go so far as to bring a descendant of The Mad Slaughter—how intriguing… Are you trying to make up for your lack of heroes?” Narrowing his eyes, Ipomoea stared at the two confused girls as an amused smile spread across his face.

The dwarf’s strange words and the way his gaze lingered on her body made Lily want to frown in confusion, but careful not to reveal her emotions, she remained silent as he continued.

“With the increasing skirmishes piling up in small cities, it won’t be long before a full-scale civil war erupts in Anthus. From what I know, the First Prince already has the support of a good portion of the influential noble families, but the Second Prince doesn’t seem far behind when it comes to gaining the people’s favor.” His eyes narrowed further as he looked directly at Lily. “What do you think, my dear human? Which prince will emerge victorious in the end?”

The old dwarf’s sudden question pulled Lily into the discussion before she even realized it. Someone who believed she was only meant to remain silent—just like Cicuta and the bee-like girl whose name she didn’t know—Lily found herself cornered.

“You seem quite interested in the affairs of the human kingdom, Elder Ipomoea.” Stepping in front of Lily, Thelira answered him in a heavy tone. “If possible, I would appreciate it if you kept your personal remarks to yourself, and refrained from disrespecting my mother’s memory with rude comments.”

Raising both hands as if in surrender, Ipomoea spoke with a smile that did little to hide his sarcasm.

“My apologies, young lady. That was not my intention. I’m simply curious, you see. Besides, knowing who will become the next ruler of a territory is extremely important. After all, that will be the one we negotiate with in the future.”

As Thelira and Ipomoea exchanged looks, Tiamat gently fluttered her wings, raising her voice just slightly.

“I would like to use this first meeting to bring everyone up to date on matters involving Phaea alone. We can address issues concerning human territory in tomorrow’s meeting. Would that be acceptable to you both?”

At the dragon woman’s words, both the dwarf and the elf silently retreated. In the span of a single second, all signs of excessive tension vanished.

“Very well. As I would prefer to wait for a member of the Wing Clan to be present before discussing the dragons’ position, I will refrain from presenting a specific agenda for today’s meeting. Who would like to speak first?”

As Tiamat finished speaking, Ipomoea nodded. “As the representative of the dwarves, I will also refrain from presenting an agenda today. Most of the matters I prepared to discuss involve our relationship with Anthus moving forward, so I’ll leave that for tomorrow—and allow the young lady to speak today.”

Wearing an expression of feigned humility, Ipomoea stepped back from the table, turning his eyes toward Thelira. As the last to take action, the responsibility of deciding what would be discussed fell squarely upon the golden-haired elf.

In the past, Thelira might have felt lost when facing a group so influential to the politics of her continent. Now, however, without a single trace of nervousness breaking her flawless expression, she adjusted her posture and spoke softly. “Eight years ago, forcing its way through the barrier of the World Tree, one of the five remaining Twilights dared to attack our territory.”

At Thelira’s nod, Lily cautiously approached the round table and retrieved a small wooden box held by a purple tentacle beneath her cloak.

Placing the item at the center of the table and removing the lid, Lily quickly stepped back behind Thelira—just in time to witness the tension seize everyone seated there.

“Don’t tell me—!”

“My, my…”

Before them all, a black, twisted horn continued to radiate its grandeur despite being partially destroyed. The obsidian object, even after all the years spent in isolation, still contained such dense remnants of mana that even the air around it seemed heavier.

Both Ipomoea and Tiamat failed to hide their shock at seeing such an artifact presented so casually before them. The dragon woman, now covering her mouth with one hand, had a single drop of cold sweat trailing down her neck. Lily couldn’t see her eyes, but she was certain they were wide open. The old dwarf, on the other hand, loosened his clenched jaw; his pale, weathered skin subtly drained of color as his dark eyes locked onto the horn without blinking.

When Nia absorbed what remained of the Twilight’s body, Lily had thought it wise to keep some fragment as a precaution—but even she hadn’t imagined that Thelira intended to use it this way.

Although they had lost many of the items they carried in their baggage, since Lily had personally kept the small box with her from the very beginning, Drelkos’s horn had remained in the girls’ possession even after all the troubles in the Valley of Dawn.

“As you well know, invading the elven forest is a crime—and not even a Twilight would escape alive after such an affront,” Thelira remarked casually, closing the World Tree wood box to seal away the small yet oppressive mana leaking from the horn.

“I can confirm its authenticity. The Third Twilight, Drelkos, The Harbinger of the Hollow, was an opponent I personally faced.” Speaking in a low voice, Tiamat brought a hand to her cheek and let out a short sigh. “His magic was both an absolute defense and an absolute offense. Not even I was able to pierce it and deal a lethal blow.”

“As expected of The One Who Denied Heaven, Queen Elarielle never fails to impress us. Now the number of remaining Twilights has fallen to four.” Speaking in a forced cordial tone that barely concealed his astonishment, Ipomoea adjusted himself in his chair, nervously scratching his beard.

“Forgive me, Elder Ipomoea, but what makes you believe it was my sister who defeated the Twilight?” Crossing her legs, Thelira stared at the old dwarf as a thin smile spread across her majestic face.

“Heavens, no. It’s just that the fall of an opponent of such magnitude would naturally be attributed to the feat of one of the heroes, wouldn’t it?” Shaking his head, Ipomoea let out a light, sarcastic chuckle. “But then again, even I wouldn’t dare doubt the abilities of the one said to have hunted one of the three dragon leaders.”

The subtly mocking tone made it clear to everyone present that Ipomoea did not believe it had been Thelira and her retinue who hunted and killed Fafnir—at least, not without resorting to some kind of trick.

Although she wanted to force the conversation further with the old dwarf, Thelira knew that his attitude would not allow him to change his mind so easily. She would need a different approach.

“But to think that a demon managed to cross the border established by the Clan of Scales…” Letting out a sigh, Thelira looked at Tiamat and spoke in a low voice.

Hearing those words, the white-haired dragon woman gave a modest yet brief laugh.

“Lady Thelira, this may come as a surprise to someone who lives in such an isolated place, but in sheer scale alone, the border between Finis and Phaea is at least fifteen times larger than the elven forest.”

With her eyes hidden behind the golden mask, part of Tiamat’s expression remained unreadable, yet the tone of her voice made it clear she was entertained by the elf’s provocation.

“As the beliefs of our ancestors say, our strength grants us the responsibility to protect our lands—but you seem to have misunderstood that duty. What we choose to uphold of our own will is preventing large-scale invasions. We guard the border between our territories so that the armies of demons and calamity monsters do not cross onto this continent. If someone wishes to enter Finis to fight, or if a few rats manage to slip beneath our feet, that is not our responsibility.”

Tiamat’s words helped Lily better understand the relationship the other races had with Finis after the end of the war. She remembered Selene explaining that the human capital and the Mage Tower encouraged—and rewarded—anyone who ventured into demon territory to hunt its inhabitants, regardless of their strength, with both money and status.

It was during one of these incursions that Selene and Velmont had been ambushed by Orlaith, leading to the man becoming one of her pawns upon his return. Though clearly flawed in many ways, the system reflected the shared desire of all races to prevent another war—by limiting the demons’ advance and hunting them down gradually.

Even though Thelira herself had initiated the topic, the sharp, continuous remarks came so swiftly that she couldn’t form a response.

“Furthermore, correct me if I’m wrong—since I lack knowledge of elven culture, Lady Thelira—but isn’t it the Sage’s duty to prevent these ‘minor tragedies’ from happening?”

The dragon woman’s words made the elf freeze.

“The former Sage, Queen Virelia, managed to prevent dozens of tragedies both on the battlefield and within the elven kingdom itself, am I correct?”

Each pause was meticulously calculated. Every syllable from the dragon woman was polished, heavy with a seriousness that left the elf unsure how to argue back. Tiamat was striking Thelira where the pain ran deepest—her mother.

“Elder Sister, the time you allotted for this morning’s meeting ended thirty-two seconds ago.” Approaching Tiamat’s ear, Cicuta whispered softly before returning to her position behind the woman.

Realizing her time limit had passed, Tiamat straightened up and shook her head several times.

“How rude of me. Schedules must be respected—I hope you’ll forgive that.” Bowing her head slightly once and clasping her hands together, Tiamat addressed both the dwarf and the elf.

“Then it seems it’s my time to leave as well. I very much look forward to speaking with you again, young lady.”

Standing up, Ipomoea walked toward the wooden bridge leading out over the lake, casually waving his hand in Thelira’s direction. The old dwarf was silently followed by the beautiful woman with bee-like antennae, who continued staring at the elven delegation until the very last moment.

Still unable to react, Thelira looked at Tiamat, who faced her with both hands still clasped and a dazzling smile on her face.

“I expect the entire elven delegation to attend tonight’s banquet. It will be a larger event than we usually host, so I would be extremely pleased if you would honor us with your presence.”