The gathered Councilors showed a mix of expressions as they settled in place. The meeting was not a scheduled one, and several of the Pinnacles and near-Pinnacles were annoyed at having their plans disrupted over something many considered trivial.

“We only have a short time before they arrive,” Arbiter Eskin announced. As the nominal leader of the Council, it was his job to get the meeting started.

“And they can wait if we aren’t ready for them,” Councilor Arona sneered, causing several of her fellows to frown with displeasure at her display.

Her conduct certainly wasn’t becoming of a Tier Ten member of the Atlantis Alliance’s Council.

The older elf’s perfectly symmetric face twisted into an ugly countenance as she glared at the judgmental stares of her fellow council members.

Most thought the old elven councilor should recuse herself from the discussion altogether, given her obvious bias pertaining to the topic at hand.

After all, how could one claim impartiality when it came to their legacy?

Thankfully, system-enforced oaths ensured that at least a degree of fairness was enforced with such positions, regardless of any conflicts of interest.

Without such oaths, the Council would never get anything accomplished.

Arbiter Eskin ignored the outburst and called the meeting to order.

“I will remind everyone here that you’ve all taken oaths to act on behalf of the Alliance, not the territories, families, or organizations to which you used to belong. If you feel you are unable to fulfill your role due to conflicting oaths—” he looked toward Councilor Arona, “—I ask that you submit a request for recusal and depart before the discussion begins.”

He waited a moment, and when nobody moved, he sighed and continued. “In that case, we are here to discuss the claim that Sovereignty Sect Elders have knowingly attempted to assassinate the Alliance’s newest Tri-Affinity Mage. The claim has been validated by the system, so there is no question of guilt or misunderstanding.”

“Within the same tier, there is no issue,” Councilor Arona commented haughtily. “The Accords are very clear about that.”

Several councilors frowned at the claim. While it was technically true, at least as far as the system was concerned, Tri-Affinity Mages had always been afforded special consideration.

“There are laws against intentionally harming or attempting to kill Tri-Affinity Mages in every territory,” one of the other councilors countered.

“Then that’s on those territories to uphold,” Councilor Arona said dismissively as she leaned back in her chair in a rare show of casual disregard. “That isn’t our role. We oversee the entire Alliance. We do not govern directly.”

“You’re only saying that because it’s your old sect in the wrong,” a nearby councilor quipped.

Councilor Arona’s eyes narrowed at the claim, but she did not refute it. She couldn’t, given the enchantments embedded in the meeting hall that would prevent anyone within the walls from intentionally lying.

Such measures were almost a necessity when dealing with matters of such importance.

“Regardless, the facts have not changed. The Accords do not prohibit targeting Tri-Affinity Mages,” Councilor Arona said stubbornly.

Unlike most of the territories that were run by subordinate kingdoms, Councilor Arona’s former territory was one of the two that were controlled by sects.

Her appointment to the Council had been hugely contentious, especially given her former sect’s known stance of elven superiority. But she’d won the tournament, and her detractors were forced to accept her inclusion and subsequent elevation in tier.

Since her original territory capped at Tier Eight, she’d had to spend a few subjective centuries on Sira being guided through rifts until she met the minimum requirement to officially join the Council.

Since then, she’d used her authority to grow to the absolute peak of power.

She had no plans to ascend any time soon, preferring to relish life at the pinnacle instead of starting over somewhere else.

Besides, rumor had it that the next realm was different. According to the Fate Mages – none of whom she trusted in the least – there was only one race in the next realm.

The thought was absurd. But even so, Arona wasn’t in any hurry to find out the truth for herself.

“While I dislike it, she’s not wrong,” another councilor chimed in. “We all know the system is sentient. If its creators thought that Tri-Affinity Mages were sacred, I’m sure they would have included it in the Accords.”

“And what of public opinion?”

Nobody got the chance to answer since their vision was covered in bright red lettering.

[An update to the Accords has been made! Please review the Accords as soon as possible and ensure compliance.]

The gathered powerhouses were struck speechless for several moments.

“That… I don’t remember the last time something like that happened.”

Focusing on the word ‘Accords’ brought up the familiar document, and every attendee quickly skimmed over the highlighted changes.

Unrealized by the Council, they were not the only ones who received the notification. Every single person with access to the system received a similar notification, causing an immediate stir across the Alliance and beyond.

“Ha! What do you have to say about that?” Councilor Hethrew, one of the youngest and newest councilors, exclaimed. He’d always disliked the air of inherent superiority exuded by Councilor Arona, and he was happy to see the system itself putting her in her place.

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At Tier Ten, none of the councilors were young, per se. Even so, there was a definite rigidity apparent in those who’d been a member of the Council for more than a few centuries.

“Apparently, the system does value Tri-Affinity Mages more than everyone else,” Arbiter Eskin murmured thoughtfully.

“It’s only to be expected if what we’ve learned about the next realm is correct,” Councilor Lance added.

A flurry of hushed conversations erupted between clustered councilors. Arbiter Eskin allowed it for several minutes as he mulled over the implications.

It’s a good thing Tri-Affinity Mages are already revered, he thought. Otherwise, I could see this new change causing problems. Nobody likes blatant favoritism.

Examining the short document, the Arbiter noted that the change was only a minor addition to the section that covered Murder. Instead of only prohibiting the intentional killing of a lower-tier person, the Accords now also prohibited the intentional killing of anyone who had awoken at least three affinities.

The exceptions still applied, which meant the girl could still be killed in wars, duels, or if someone was defending themselves from an attack that she initiated. There were a couple of other exceptions included, but they were so unlikely they might as well not exist.

“So,” Arbiter Eskin said slowly, turning toward Councilor Arona. “How likely is it that your former sect will cease their hostilities toward the Tri-Affinity Mage?”

The older elf fumed silently for several moments as she overtly ignored the Arbiter’s question. Her eyes were focused on a screen that only she could see, making it clear that she had no intention of replying.

After several long moments of rude silence, Arona suddenly gasped.

“What? No! I didn’t—” The female elf looked around erratically before leaping out of her chair as if being attacked. “No, no, no! I worked too hard to lose it all now!”

The other nine councilors watched the increasingly frantic elf with a variety of expressions ranging from cool detachment to glee. It was obvious the elven councilor had somehow violated one of her oaths, and now she was paying the price.

To a few people’s dismay, the now-former councilor suddenly started glowing. She immediately heaved a sigh of relief.

Arona opened her mouth to say something, her expression haughty. To the good fortune of those gathered, her ascension didn’t care to wait, and she disappeared before uttering a word.

“Did she really just ascend to get away with violating her oaths?” Councilor Lance asked with wide eyes as he stared at the elf’s newly vacated chair.

“And it looks like she intentionally let all of her belongings get destroyed in the process. How spiteful!” someone added, noting the distinct lack of unclaimed storage devices in the vicinity.

“That sounds about right,” Councilor Hethrew said. “She’s always been a selfish old hag. I can’t believe the system let her get away with breaking her oaths like that. She had to be sitting on a lot of excess experience to pull something like that off.”

Arbiter Eskin pinched the bridge of his nose. It was an old habit he’d never quite gotten rid of, even though the action did little to ease his mental strain.

He was just glad they had public relations professionals to deal with the citizenry. On top of addressing the new change to the Accords, they’d have to announce the new vacancy to the Council.

And since the seat opening was from one of the sect territories, that meant a tournament followed by a few subjective centuries of helping the winner reach Tier Ten.

And they hadn’t even addressed the purpose of the meeting yet!

“Alright! Let’s focus on our reason for being here,” Arbiter Eskin said, projecting his voice over the rumble of side conversations. “Now that the system has taken a stance on the situation, it’s clear that something will need to be done if the Sovereignty Sect refuses to cease hostilities toward the new Epikairos Elder.”

“She’ll be ascending with Kairos, right?” Councilor Farrah, the Arbiter’s right hand, asked Councilor Lance. As the one who worked most closely with the Oracle, he was most likely the one to know the answer to that question.

The Oracle wasn’t part of the Council, but as the highest-tier Fate Mage in the Alliance, she was often brought in as an advisor.

Contrary to the Patriarch’s belief, it was actually the Oracle’s membership in the Epikairos Sect and her personal relationship with the Patriarch that motivated most of the Council to seek his ascension.

Most felt that without her half-brother around, the Oracle wouldn’t feel as obligated to remain connected to the sect. And since she was married to Councilor Lance, it naturally made sense that she should dedicate more of her time to the Council instead.

“Anya foresaw several possibilities,” Councilor Lance began before hesitating. “I’m not sure how the new changes will influence things.”

“Can you contact her?”

Councilor Lance nodded. “She’s already on site. She anticipated the necessity of her presence.”

A few moments later, an attractive woman with snow-white hair and lavender eyes that matched her robes entered the room. Her skin was extraordinarily pale, similar to that of her half-brother.

Unlike Henlen Kairos, Anya Oracle was only Tier Eight. She was also several hundred years younger than the Time Mage.

“Thank you for your timely arrival, Oracle,” the Arbiter said. Instead of asking about young Emie Momentia’s ascension, he asked, “Do you see the conflict between Epikairos and Sovereignty resolving without additional bloodshed?”

He could have asked about the Tri-Affinity Mage, but knowing when the girl was likely to ascend should not be a factor in their deliberations. Right now, he needed to know how the change to the Accords might impact the conflict.

Ideally, it would result in a cessation of hostilities between the two sects. However, if the Sovereignty Sect insisted on snuffing out the talented youth, the Council would be forced to intervene.

The Fate Mage’s eyes began glowing with mana, and her gaze grew distant.

“There is no future resolution between the two sects without bloodshed,” the Oracle decreed. “Sovereignty cannot accept the possibility of Emie having children and potentially creating more powerful human Time Mages. Even with the assurance that she would ascend without having children, they would seek her death.”

“Is she going to ascend as soon as she’s eligible?”

The Oracle’s eyes remained unfocused. “The future is never set, though some possibilities are more likely than others,” she warned. “Of those most likely, I see a future where she ascends at the deadline with the Patriarch. Slightly more likely is a future where she remains in this realm for millennia and watches her family grow. Interestingly, one of the most likely futures is one where she ascends alone shortly after reaching the Pinnacle.”

The gathered Councilors murmured amongst themselves at that bit of news.

After a short pause, the Oracle’s expression darkened. “With almost equal likelihood, I see a future where she is disposed of by a Tier Ten Assassin. In this future, there is a high chance that the timeline will fracture. The subsequent branches are muddled and constantly shifting, but the prevalence of unrest and death are clear enough.”

The white-haired Fate Mage shook her head, and her eyes cleared. “If you would forgive my presumptiveness, I strongly encourage the last path be avoided if at all possible.” Anya Oracle looked around the room at the assembled Pinnacles and near-Pinnacles.

“Thank you for your insight, Oracle,” the Arbiter said.

Sensing her dismissal, the Fate Mage sent a soft look toward her beloved husband and departed, granting the councilors privacy.

“So, what options does that leave us?” Councilor Farrah asked as she glanced around the room before her gaze settled on the vacant seat of former Councilor Arona. Several others glanced at the empty seat as well while considering their options.

“Even knowing they will ignore it, an official notice should be given to warn members of the Sovereignty Sect against targeting Emie Momentia or any other Tri-Affinity Mage,” Councilor Lance suggested.

“And when they violate it?”

Everyone looked at Arbiter Eskin. He looked far more tired than he had at the start of the meeting.

“We’ll send in the Inquisitors,” he said reluctantly.

“No sect war?” Councilor Lance asked with a hint of hope. It was obvious why he didn’t want such an option to be considered, seeing as his wife was a member of one of the sects involved.

“I’d prefer not to make use of that option,” Arbiter Eskin replied. “If Patriarch Kairos demands it…”

Councilor Lance’s expression darkened. He really hated how much power that man had over his wife. Even if they were family, he still didn’t like it.

“Let’s hope he doesn’t insist on such a course of action,” Councilor Farrah commented, seeing her fellow councilor’s expression.