Game Transmigration: Saving the World Again 1000 Years Later

285 Father and Son

Ebony looked at the wolf-faced tattooed youth tied up in front of the Seven Holy Spirits statue and turned to Garet Wolfspeak, the middle-aged man sitting nearby with his eyes closed. “Mr. Garet, according to tradition, I think we should go through the Oak Council’s trial process first.”

Garet Wolfspeak, the second-in-command of the Emerald Province and the clerk who handled all Forest Elf matters, had barged into the Holy Tree Matriarch Temple with a few Wild Hunt warriors.

Ebony had initially thought there was a leak and he needed to fall out with the duke, but he soon realized that Garet had come to deliver his son. To Ebony’s shock, Garet asked the temple to provide him with Rotten Root Tree Sap for the execution.

Ebony refused the request without hesitation.

!!

This was not in line with Ravenwood’s traditions or the empire’s laws.

Floral’s reign was filled with tyranny and killing whoever she wanted without regard for the law or traditions. In Ebony’s opinion, even the tribal chiefs who chose their sacrifices based on the constellations in the Black Iron Era had a better understanding of politics than Floral.

Garet opened his eyes and walked over to Ebony. He stared at him and said, “I haven’t fallen so low as to let those old farts from the Oak Council tell me what to do.”

Under Floral’s rule, the Oak Council had lost all authority, only in charge of improving the local people’s livelihood. They could only announce the White Bone Castle’s policies as the will of the Holy Tree Matriarch to reduce resistance.

“If you don’t respect our traditions, you can send your son to the Blind Sisters in Platinum Province and let the Empire’s courts handle the judgment. But I don’t understand why you’re in such a hurry to send your son to his death just to show your loyalty to our dear duke.”

Ebony looked over at Quayle Wolfspeak, who had been silent and staring at the imperialized statue of the Holy Tree Matriarch.

Quayle finally spoke up, “Do as he says, Listener. He has wanted me dead for a long time.”

Quayle’s voice was as cold as ice on a frozen plain.

“I’m the black sheep of the family, a hindrance to my father’s efforts to win over the tyrant. At least if I die by the Rotten Root Tree Sap, I’ll have a shred of dignity. But if I’m killed another way, he will have to deal with my body.”

When Forest Elves die from drinking the Rotten Root Tree Sap, their blood was filled with poison and needed to be handed over to a special blesser named Holy Eater. To Quayle, the thought of this man performing the Holy Communion ritual on him was more humiliating than death itself.

“It’s sickening,” Quayle spat, not even glancing at his father.

Father and son didn’t make eye contact from start to finish.

Garet finally spoke, “If he’s agreed, then I’ll have to trouble you to carry out your execution and take care of everything, Listener.”

Ebony spread his arms, his anger evident.

“Listen, I’m not refusing your request, but you don’t have the right to give me orders. Only the Holy Tree Matriarch has that right. And as a clerk, you don’t have the authority to override the duke’s death sentence. Let me make it clear, I don’t want to be caught up in your father and son’s conflict. So if you want me to produce the Rotten Tree Sap for the execution, bring the respected duke to me.”

If she’s still able to come, Ebony thought.

William had reportedly gone to the White Bone Castle to negotiate, but Ebony wasn’t sure how things had turned out. Despite Floral’s immense strength, she was nothing compared to the walking legend that was William.

“Is the evidence you were talking about here? I came here before I went to look for you, but I didn’t seem to see anything noteworthy.”

Ebony heard a hoarse male voice outside the temple.

He tensed up as he recognized the owner of the voice.

He’s back…

In other words, he had already completed his initial contact with that woman. Was he coming back to discuss his next plan to officially seize power?

“So, you were here before. Don’t tell me you’ve already made contact with Hobien Ebony?” a cold-blooded female voice chimed in. Ebony felt like he had been plunged into an ice cavern.

It was the voice of his eternal nightmare—Floral Kane.

Why is she here, and why is she with William?

Is William betraying me and choosing to side with the stronger Holy Tree Duke?

Impossible… The Matriarch’s prophecy had declared William as the true liberator of the Forest Elves.

Ebony’s mind raced with unease, rendering him frozen in place. He couldn’t move a muscle.

The massive stone door of the temple creaked open, and William and Floral stepped inside, one after the other.

The temple was a sight to behold, carved inside a tree trunk, and Nizemar and Elise, first-time visitors, gaped in wonder at its grandeur. William and Floral approached the small group of people in the center of the temple.

Garet, who stood nearby, quickly gave Floral a formal bow of the empire.

The silence was deafening as they all stood still, unsure of what to do next.

“Mr. Quayle!”

Elise’s voice broke the stillness as she spotted her companion tied up in front of the shrine.

Nizemar was caught off guard and lost her grip, allowing Elise to run to the shrine.

Quayle was stunned. He gazed at Elise for a long moment before asking, “I thought you were already in Green Prison… Why did she bring you here?”

Quayle was naturally referring to the Holy Tree Duke.

“I don’t know why, but I don’t think I’ll be sent to Platinum City. I can try contacting the Blind Sisters all over the continent and rebuild the organization, continuing my pilgrimage to different parts of the continent. That’s what this sister told me,”

Elise said, pointing at Nizemar who was now walking towards them.

“For real?” Quayle turned to Nizemar, who had stood up for them, with a suspicious look on his face.

The Holy Tree Duke was known for being strict with insiders, but often compromising with outsiders.

Nizemar nodded in response, confirming the truth.

“But how? What did you do to convince the duke? Did you pay a price?”

He was trying to figure out what Nizemar could have possibly offered the Duke to make her compromise.

But Nizemar shook her head.

“It wasn’t the Presiding Judge who convinced the duke. It was the other way around. The duke convinced the Presiding Judge to deal with the Blind Sisters in this manner.”