"Let introduce you to my Servant, Saber, Altera."
Not long after Gilgash and Rin left, Lorelei stepped out of the forest and introduced everyone to her Servant.
That's right—the Asian-looking female Servant, the one Gilgash had called a counterfeit mongrel, was none other than the Servant summoned by Lorelei.
She had summoned Altera at about the sa ti as Waver had summoned his Servant. After the summoning, she had brought Altera along to et up with Waver and his group. Halfway there, they saw Gilgash arriving on his golden vessel. Out of caution and secrecy, Lorelei chose to hide and sent Altera ahead to investigate, which led to the events that had just unfolded.
There's no need to go into the details of the summoning process. Lorelei wasn't one for many words, and Altera was similarly quiet. Both possessed a strong military deanor—one spoke, the other listened, and they quickly ca to an understanding. While Iskandar and Faker were having their lively battle, Lorelei and Altera had already finished their conversation and were on their way to join the others.
"Altera, huh? That's a fine na. How about joining my ranks?"
Iskandar's reaction didn't surprise Waver or Faker in the least. Whether in life or death, the King of Conquerors had an instinct to recruit talented individuals whenever he encountered them.
"Na your terms. If it's within my power, I'll do my best to et them."
"I refuse," Altera responded without hesitation, not even pausing to consider the offer.
"I am the Great King of Destruction, the destroyer of civilizations. I follow no one, for I will destroy everything."
"Ugh..."
Svin instinctively shrank back. The scent he picked up told him that this woman was telling the truth.
"The destroyer of civilizations!"
Gray's arm trembled. It wasn't that she was shaking, but rather the holy spear hidden beneath her cloak, which was sealed, was quivering non-stop as if it had encountered its natural enemy.
"That's so cool," Flat's unusual thought process was, as always, best ignored.
"King?"
Iskandar picked up on a different point.
"So you're a king too, then? But Altera... I haven't heard of a king by that na. Waver, have you?"
"No, I haven't," Waver answered, shaking his head.
"That's not the na she's known by in history. The na recorded in the annals of history is 'Attila,'" Lorelei explained.
Among allies, trust is fundantal. Since Iskandar and Faker's identities were already revealed, it was only fair for Lorelei to reciprocate by showing a bit of honesty herself.
"The Scourge of God?!"
Waver was visibly moved. If there was any king who struck fear into the hearts of Europeans, it was undoubtedly Attila. She shattered the pride of Europe—Ro—and made half of Europe tremble beneath the iron hooves of the Huns. The term Scourge of God referred to the whip with which God punished humanity. In the eyes of the Europeans of that ti, Attila was practically synonymous with divine retribution, reflecting the sheer terror she instilled.
Iskandar recognized the na as well and burst out laughing.
"So, you're the sa Attila, the Hun King renowned for conquest and devastation, just like ! Though I must say, I didn't expect you to be such a young girl. Then again, after seeing the King of Knights, nothing surprises anymore. But let make one thing clear—my conquests far exceeded yours, so I won't be handing over my title of King of Conquerors."
"I do not conquer, nor do I rule. I only destroy, reducing all to nothing."
Altera's chanical response left Iskandar scratching his head in frustration.
"Ah, this won't do at all. You're not a king at all, just a weapon, little girl."
"Yes, I am a weapon of slaughter, and my Master is the one who wields ."
"..."
There was no way to continue this conversation—even soone as skilled at bending logic to his will as Iskandar couldn't help but think so. The King of Knights had her flaws because she couldn't accept reality, which left openings. But this one? She had fully accepted her reality and didn't care whether others acknowledged her or not. How could anyone hold a conversation with such a person?
With no other option, Iskandar shifted his attention.
"Saber's Master, was she like this from the start?"
"Yes."
Lorelei nodded. Though she was also puzzled at why the Scourge of God would behave this way, she quickly accepted it as ideal—what more could she want than an obedient Servant?
"You certainly managed to find Attila's relic in record ti," Waver remarked, impressed.
"For the Bartholoi, such things are easy."
"As expected of the Queen of the Clock Tower."
"Saber's Master is also a king?"
Iskandar's curiosity was piqued.
"Lorelei Bartholoi, Lord of the Departnt of Policies at the Clock Tower, the headquarters of the Mage's Association," Lorelei introduced herself with neither arrogance nor humility, her tone perfectly asured. Thanks to Faker's earlier example, she had learned how to handle these ancient heroes and was careful not to repeat Kayneth's mistakes.
"A king among magus, huh? Sounds interesting. So, Waver, are you under her rule?"
"Only in na. The structure of the Clock Tower is quite loose. While the Departnt of Policies has administrative authority, each faculty operates independently. Professor Velvet is the head of one such faculty, holding a rank equal to mine."
Waver was stunned. He had never expected the usually domineering Queen to speak so highly of him. This wasn't just being polite—she was outright elevating his status.
It was true that the Departnt of Policies and the Departnt of Modern Magecraft were of equal rank, but the power gap between them was vast. While Waver had significantly developed his departnt in recent years, the Departnt of Policies could easily crush it if they chose to. At the Clock Tower, the only ones capable of directly opposing the Bartholoi were the other two great noble houses.
Completely unaware of the political nuances, Iskandar slapped Waver on the back with force, beaming with pride.
"Well done, Waver, well done indeed. You've made proud—no wonder I took you as my vassal. Are those children over there your subordinates?"
"They're not subordinates; they're my students. I'm a professor now."
"A professor, huh? Aristotle and the priests of Amon were professors too. You're no less than they were."
Waver shot a glance at Faker, who glared back in annoyance. Faker had once used Aristotle and priests to belittle Waver, and now Iskandar was using them to praise him—it was poetic justice. And there was nothing Faker could say in response. After all, Waver's current standing in the world of magus might still fall short of Aristotle's, but he certainly surpassed the priests of Amon.
"The Aristotle of the Clock Tower—now that's a title!"
"Flat, Aristotle's just an ancient figure. He couldn't compare to our professor."
Whenever these kinds of discussions arose, Flat and Svin would enter true fan mode. Caules and Gray, anwhile, quietly stepped back a few paces to distance themselves from the two.
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