Stolen by the Rebel King
Chapter 484: The Council

Chapter 484: The Council

"What is the meaning of this?!" King Calarian’s voice boomed out, his fists slamming hard against the surface of his office desk. Even though he wasn’t present in person and this was nothing more than a blurry projection, it was clear to see the anger that painted his face an alarming shade of red.

It might not be a perfect image but it was still, after all, magic. It was definitely clear enough to see the necessary details. Atticus had heavily charmed his sodalite stone so that now, other than voice, it was able to relay images in real-time. While the respective world leaders had been surprised to receive his call, they knew that the route course of action was to pick up.

After all, they had just lost their magic, yet King Atticus seemed plenty capable of using it to enhance a stone’s natural ability.

"What happened to our magic, King Atticus?" Prince Nathaniel asked, immediately pointing out the elephant in the room.

"I believe explanations are in order," Atticus said.

"It definitely is!" King Calarian snapped. "I was in the middle of rebuilding the city when the bricks crumbled without warning. Next thing I know, no one in the world seems to have magic. Only the basic stones that are naturally imbued with it are working, but not those that are meant to be conduits. Yet, just in time, I receive a call from an enhanced sodalite stone?"

The older man growled, his expression no less murderous even with his powers missing.

"What have you done to the world?"

"Nothing," Atticus said with a nonchalant shrug. "And at the same time, everything."

"You’ll have to be more specific than endless riddles, King Atticus," Queen Yvaine of Golcrest said. She frowned, folding her arms across her chest.

"I was just about to get to it," Atticus said. Where the world leaders couldn’t see, Jonah smacked his palm to his forehead. "I have simply taken back the gift my ancestors have given the world."

"The gift your ancestors gave?" Queen Yvaine frowned. "Magic was shared with the world by King Rowan Verimandi of Reaweth. Surely you don’t think that marriage has made him your ancestor?"

"Of course not," Atticus breezily replied. "That’s because King Rowan Verimandi is none other than my great-grandfather."

Silence enveloped the crowd of kings, queens, and other dignitaries as Atticus explained his family’s downfall and escape after the coup that was set up by the Molineros. Everyone stared at him, flabbergasted and speechless, and Atticus was more than happy about how cooperatively silent they were.

"Because of this, you are taking away magic from the rest of the world?" King Calarian roared. "What gives you the right?"

"With all due respect, King Calarian," Atticus said, his expression darkening, "magic is my right. If it weren’t for the folly of my great-grandfather, no one else would’ve even had magic. Civilizations would be left in the dust as compared to Reaweth, and your kingdoms would’ve been nothing but people playing with rocks and sticks. I am simply taking back what is mine. I am tired of renting it out for free."

"You―"

"Queen Anette! Have you no care of what’s happening in your kingdom?"

"Queen Anette, say something!"

The newly widowed Reawethen queen simply sighed, but otherwise kept her lips pursed. She knew fairly well of the rather bloody origins of the current throne. It was true― the Molineros owed this to the Verimandis. Even though this was a crime of the older generation, this crown was not rightfully hers to wear. Now that her husband and his no-good mistress were gone and out of sight, Queen Anette no longer cared for power.

She was too old for this. Right now, nothing sounded better than escaping to a vacation home and leaving the throne for her daughter, who just so happens to be the wife of the rightful heir to the throne.

Funny how it all turned out.

"I don’t see how that’s a bad thing," Prince Nathaniel suddenly said, his voice oddly calm amidst the sea of protests. "Magic has its uses but it is also powerfully destructive. If it lands in the wrong hands — for example, Jean Nott — then it would result in nothing but chaos. Xahan’s capital is the perfect proof of it."

"Which is also all the more reason why magic is needed," Calarian seethed. He then turned his attention back to Atticus. "How am I supposed to rebuild my city? It will take months, maybe even years! Do not forget, King Atticus, about the reason why my city is destroyed."

"I remember it very clearly, King Calarian," Atticus retorted. "Have no worry― I will personally see to it that all help that is required will be provided. The damaged areas will be rebuilt by myself; under your supervision, of course."

"Speaking of tyrants..." This time, it was King Marinus Aberforth who spoke, the king of Nedour. Unlike the Crowned Conquest, he was not represented by his daughter this time. She, however, sat quietly by his side and watched everything with a grim expression. "How can we be sure that you will not be one, King Atticus? You now wield all the power in the world. There is no one who is your equal."

"That is right!" Another royal yelled, "Now that you are the only one left in the world who is able to use magic, you alone can rival the entire army of any kingdom! Give us a reason, King Atticus, on why we should not storm Vramid and Reaweth right now!"

"Because I have no interest in your kingdoms," Atticus said with a roll of his eyes. He leisurely leaned back in his seat, examining his fingernails as he spoke. "Vramid alone is already too much work, much more my darling wife is still the crown princess of Reaweth. I am not keen on biting more than I can chew."

"And what if you go out of control?" Queen Yvaine asked. "We have all heard of the vampiric outbreak concerning Prince Alistair and Prince Silas. What if, and I say what if, this happens again but with you?"

"The vampiric strain nulls magic in its host," Atticus calmly explained. "And even if it doesn’t, there is one person who can rival my powers. I am sure Princess Cordelia of Nedour has utmost faith in this person as well."

Cordelia’s eyes widened at having been pointed out like that, but she kept silent. Atticus smiled.

"My queen is still, and will forever be, my equal."