The Mirage Mask.
An artifact owned by a Wraithbound in the early 2100's.
The artifact Brandon had stolen during his ti in Astrea.
It was then when he encountered a Wraith for the first ti.
He could never forget the encounter to this day.
After all, it was the first ti he had ever felt fear.
"You…. Why do you have that?"
It was only speculation. But Brandon wanted to peer the information out of them.
They were clearly visibly shaken.
"There were sixteen of you when the council was ford, correct?"
Brandon asked.
There was no response for a while. But then, one of the Elders nodded. Most probably, one of the three who opposed the Runic Cadaver Analysis.
"And this mask…. If I'm correct, it belonged to a previous Elder who died, correct?"
Loud gasps quickly filled the chamber. Brandon had purposely ntioned 'died' to elicit a response out of them.
"So? Will you deny it?"
Due to the mask's effects, his voice was heavily distorted. Much to the point where it was unrecognizable.
"Are the Elders going to continue lyin—"
"Yes, that's correct. You're clearly knowledgeable about the inner workings of the council. Not sure where you've gotten your information from…."
One of the Elders who blatantly agreed with Brandon earlier, spoke. The other Elders, with widened eyes, turned towards him.
'If I'm correct, he's Charles. The duelist who had contributed the most in the Great War 200 years ago.'
Charles continued.
"But that's besides the point. Instead of feeling shocked, I'm rather baffled by your stance. What is your aim in all this? To put a target on your back?"
Charles glanced around at the Elders briefly, then returned his gaze to Brandon.
"Any one of us here possesses the power to end you in re monts. Even if you were to walk away from this trial untouched, a single command from us would be enough to see your life swiftly taken without question."
Brandon's brows raised upon hearing those words.
'He's good….'
If that were to actually happen, then one way or another, it would all trace back to the Elders.
If Brandon were to die, it would further support the validity of his statents.
Should Brandon die under these circumstances, it would only lend greater credibility to his claims, implying that the Elders viewed him as a genuine threat.
'So he's on my side.'
That much was certain.
There were only eleven Elders at the mont.
Observing the clear opposition from the majority of the Elders, with only one remaining silent throughout the trial, it beca evident that the absent Elder also disapproved of the Runic Cadaver Analysis.
"My aim, huh?"
Brandon began, taking a step forward.
"You've kept this secret for too long. You've sacrificed innocent lives to 'maintain order.' But it's ti the people knew. It's ti they understand what's really happening—"
"Enough!"
Another Elder, this ti a man with a booming voice, demanded.
"You are attempting to spread fear. The people don't need to hear your lies!"
Brandon's lips curled into a blank smile.
"Fear? Fear is what's coming, whether you like it or not. You think hiding the truth will protect them from what's about to happen?"
"You…!"
Brandon turned toward the audience, addressing not just those in the Sanctum, but the world watching through the broadcast.
"You've all been kept in the dark for too long. You've been lied to. Wraith Seeds are spreading, and they don't stop at borders. But that's not the only threat you need to worry about."
Brandon paused, letting the tension build before continuing.
"The Milis Continent is preparing for war. They've been planning this for years, and the Elders—"
He pointed an accusing finger at the Twelve.
"—knew. They've known for months, maybe even longer, and they've kept you in the dark."
The audience was visibly shaken now, murmurs of fear spreading through the crowd.
Brandon could see so of the military leaders exchanging worried glances, while others were frozen in shock.
Of course, there was a backlash to this.
The Imperial Army wasn't any better, keeping everything confidential.
"Enough of this madness, Locke."
The silver-haired Elder commanded.
"We've heard enough of your baseless claims. You think you can rile up the people with fearmongering?"
Brandon stood tall, his ink-black eyes staring blankly at her.
"Baseless? Tell , then—why haven't you addressed the rumors of Milis mobilizing their forces? Why hasn't the Imperial Army made a public statent on their military buildup? Why the sudden construction of the Imperial Academy?"
Brandon paused and cleared his throat. Then, he continued once more.
"That's right. All of you Imperial Academy students are being prepared for war. Whether you like it or not, whether you choose to beco rankers in the end, none of those matter. We are all on the sa page once our borders are crossed."
Brandon turned around and pointed at the woman with pale–white hair, a striking resemblance with him.
It was Belle.
"General Locke, currently a student of Imperial Academy under training, but a skilled tactician and Leader of the Imperial Army, with a little bit of nepotism, had managed to climb the ranks steadily."
Belle looked flabbergasted upon hearing the sudden revelation.
"....Brandon, what are yo—"
"Could you please stand up?"
"You have no right to demand from the spectators, Lock—"
"Approved."
Charles nodded his head, swiftly cutting off the silver–haired Elder's sentence.
"Charles, why are you so in favor of this?"
"It's too late anyway. The mont this boy entered the Sanctum, we lost control. The world is watching"
Belle stood up belatedly and rubbed her hands together, her body fidgeting nervously.
eting Brandon's gaze, her eyes seed to silently ask, "What do you need from ?" Brandon wasted no ti and asked directly.
"You know the inner workings of the Imperial Army, correct?"
Belle briefly glanced at Bellion, unsure of how to respond. However, Brandon had seen it.
Bellion nodded his head in agreent, clearly in favor of Brandon.
Getting approval, Belle answered carefully.
"....Yes, that's correct."
"And how long have you known about the cold war?"
"Ten months."
A collective gasp echoed through the chamber, and the audience's murmurs turned to shock.
Brandon nodded slowly, his voice cold and calculated as he continued.
"Ten months. Ten months the Imperial Army and the Elders have kept this hidden from the public. Ten months of silence while our enemies prepare for war."
Belle looked down pensively.
She had known, but like many others in the Army, she was bound by duty to remain silent.
Turning back to Belle, he gave her a nod, silently saying; "You've done what you had to, Belle. Thank you."
Belle, her face pale and eyes wide, nodded back and sat down.
The silver-haired Elder's voice cut through the tension.
"This trial is not about war preparations, Locke. It is about your alleged cri—the murder of Evelyn Cessna. Do not divert the issue."
"Respectively, your honor. That's not a good look. All the claims, all the statents, and all your retorts against it, everyone in this room would collectively agree I'm not just spouting nonsense. Divert the issue? I'm directly addressing it."
Another Elder stood up, his voice trembling with anger.
"You're trying to incite rebellion! You're endangering the very stability of our nation!"
Brandon's expression hardened.
"You've already endangered it. By keeping the people in the dark, by lying to them, by letting Milis prepare for war unchecked, you've done more damage than I ever could. I'm simply pulling back the curtain and showing them what you've been hiding."
The people were waking up, realizing that everything Brandon said made sense.
Brandon took a deep breath and turned back to the broadcast.
"To everyone watching, this isn't just about Holy Britannia anymore. Milis doesn't care about borders. They want control, and they'll take it by force. And unless we prepare—unless we face the truth head-on—we'll lose everything."
Charles finally broke his silence, his voice softer than before, but still filled with authority.
"You've made your point, Locke. But understand this—you've put yourself in a dangerous position. You've exposed truths that many would rather keep hidden. You've placed a target on your back."
"A target? For whom?"
Brandon asked.
"Who else?"
Charles grinned, his piercing gaze eting Brandon's, who grinned back at him.
"Milis."
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