"Highness, that is the breadth of the situation as I have seen it," Agheel reported, bowing low before the Prince.
Luthier did not respond immediately. He gestured for Agheel to take his seat to the left while he rested his chin on his hand, sinking into a deep, protracted silence.
Within the royal pavilion, a heavy stillness took hold. Whether it was the two Elders, Morel and Atok, or the high-ranking knights like Greyoll, Agheel, Olwen, and Anastasia, no one dared to speak first. They waited with a collective, disciplined patience for Luthier's direction.
Such a scene had never occurred during their previous councils. On the journey from Farum Azula, Luthier had always been generous with his elders, treating these veterans—whose strength and experience far eclipsed his own—with the grace of an equal.
But this situation was different. This was no longer an internal matter of the Ancient Dragon lineage. The fate of Karen City and the ultimate ownership of its governorship involved more than the lives of twenty thousand residents; it touched upon the shifting tectonic plates of the Golden Order's nobility. In an era where the Erdtree stood as the undisputed pillar of the world, a tremor in this region could easily ripple across the entire continent.
Had the seven Sages of the Senate or the high priests of the Sky Temple been present, they too would have remained silent. To speak before the Prince in such a moment was a breach of protocol that bordered on usurpation.
"Elder Morel," Luthier began, his voice breaking the silence with measured precision. "The Ofnir family. How deep do their roots go? Tell me everything you know."
Elder Morel, seated in the primary position on the left, was a man of keen spirit and silvered hair. At eight hundred and seventy-two years of age, he was among the eldest of the dragons born after the Era of the Crucible. He was a pillar of the Council of Elders, possessed of a memory that stretched back to the dawn of the current age.
Throughout his long life, Morel had witnessed the slow recovery of civilizations after the great wars. He had watched as an observer while the gods fought for the right to claim the Lands Between. From his perspective, the resplendent Golden Order and the Carian Royals to the west were merely upstarts compared to the ancient majesty of the dragons.
"The Ofnir house," the old man mused, his brow furrowing slightly. "Your Highness likely knows that Governor Hektov's primary fief is the town of Lente in the Altus Plateau. His eldest brother, Marquis Osarion, serves as the Deputy Commander of the Northern Army, while his second brother, Viscount Rovence, is the Municipal Supervisor of Leyndell. Nominally, these three brothers claim to be neutral in the court's factional struggles. In reality, they are staunch members of the New Party. Viscount Rovence, in particular, is said to be quite close to Prince Godrick."
"Godrick?" Luthier arched an eyebrow. "Since when has he associated himself with the New Party?"
Over the past few days, Luthier had devoured every record he could find regarding the political climate of the mainland. He understood the divide: the Old Party was led by Queen Marika, the victor of the War of Unification. The New Party, however, followed the banner of the new King Consort, Radagon, who had ascended the throne a decade prior. They were largely military nobles who championed Golden Order Fundamentalism, seeking to replace the older, more inclusive Erdtree doctrines with a rigid law that showed no mercy to anything outside the Golden Grace.
He found it difficult to grasp why Godrick would involve himself in such a mess. Most nobles were forced to choose a side, but as a scion of the Golden Lineage, Godrick should have been above the fray. As the son of Godwyn the Golden, he merely needed to follow his father's lead and wait for his inheritance. To take a hardline stance now was to invite unnecessary enemies.
Elder Morel cleared his throat, a look of awkwardness crossing his face. "Your Highness might not be aware, but Prince Godrick has always been... unique in his conduct. It is whispered that Queen Marika and Prince Godwyn intended for him to be a bridge between the two factions. However, he seems to possess a natural, deep-seated disdain for any race outside the Golden lineage. He has declared in public on several occasions that the Queen's doctrines are too lenient, allowing 'crude and filthy beings' to bask in the Erdtree's light. Naturally, the Old Party finds such rhetoric intolerable."
Luthier sat stunned for a moment before looking at the others. "Is this truly the case?"
"It is," Agheel added, nodding solemnly. "Prince Godwyn once attempted to grant Godrick command over a portion of the Crucible Knights. But after the insults Morel mentioned, the Misbegotten among the knights felt humiliated. Ordovis himself requested a private audience with Godwyn to voice his grievance. It was no secret in Leyndell. Afterward, Godrick's personal guard was swapped for standard Leyndell Knights, and the matter of his command was quietly dropped."
"A genius. Truly, the man is a genius," Luthier muttered, barely suppressing a look of disbelief.
He thought of the Godrick he knew from the future—the Lord of Stormveil who would hack off his own limbs to graft the strength of others onto his body. Apparently, even before his fall, his ego was already outstripping his common sense. This arrogant mask, this need to tell the world he looked down on everyone, was likely the result of a man who had never truly tasted defeat.
The pieces fell into place. Hektov's insolence was not merely personal; as a fanatic of the New Party and an ally of Godrick, he viewed an Ancient Dragon prince as exactly the kind of "filthy being" that shouldn't be allowed near the Capital. Without Luthier's demigod status and the military might of the Sky Castle behind him, he doubted this camp would have been permitted at all.
"One more thing," Luthier said, focusing back on Morel. "Have you ever heard of a Sir Gideon within the Ofnir family?"
The Elder thought for a long time, eventually shaking his head with conviction. "If he were a cadet branch member without a title, I might have missed him. But among the titled nobility, there is no one by that name."
"I see."
"However," Morel added, "if your Highness is certain of the name, I can visit a few old contacts once we reach Leyndell to check the family registries from the early days of the Unification War. A branch of the Ofnir family once followed the Lord of the Battlefield, Godfrey. When the Long March of the Tarnished began after the conquest of Caelid, they were exiled beyond the fog with the First Elden Lord. This Sir Gideon might be among them."