The Demon King' Chapter 260: Rezar's Cave. And Yet

Another two cycles passed. 31 years went by. According to the chronology of Mount Slick, it was already the 132nd year.

Nine high-ranking mages sat at a massive round table in a spacious hall. The tenth chair, as usual, remained vacant. The atmosphere was tense—the Council was discussing Rezar's Cave, which had remained unconquered for five years now.

The First Mage (sitting opposite the empty chair) began in a calm tone: "Yes, but we are in no hurry. The first-year students are handling the initial floors perfectly, which keeps the monsters from coming out. We need to think everything through. The camps are set up, the supply lines are working. If you ask , it's an excellent training ground for the youngsters."

The Second Mage (the analyst) shook his head and countered: "The problem is that the caves are getting harder and harder every ti. Based on all the gathered data, including the old archives, we have identified a trend: the caves are adapting. In this very Rezar's Cave, novices used to reach the 10th floor without any problems. But now, even the 7th and 8th floors are beyond their capabilities."

The Third Mage looked hopefully at the empty chair and asked: "And will the tenth mber of the council co?"

The green-haired girl (Naya), leaning back in her chair and lazily examining the ceiling, rely shook her head negatively.

Then the Fourth Mage (sitting to the left, one seat away from the First) took the floor. His face turned red with indignation: "What the hell are you all spouting?! This is the talk of cowards! Give

a large detachnt of battle mages, and we will clear it out once and for all with one mighty strike!"

The Fifth Mage (sitting next to the Fourth) raised a hand placatingly, cooling his neighbor's fervor: "Respected Level 1 Magister. Even though you are here temporarily as a substitute, and are currently considered a mber of the Council, we are not at a debate here. You can speak calmly; everyone will be heard here. That is first. And second, do you even understand what colossal casualties there will be even if we assemble a huge strike force?"

Here, the Sixth Mage (responsible for finances), who had been silent until now, joined the conversation: "Yes, and besides, do you understand how much it costs to equip an entire combat detachnt? Potions, swords, artifacts, weapons—all of this requires enormous expenses. We already fully equip our students as it is, and here we would need to assemble an army. And secondly, you are forgetting a simple truth that must remain strictly within this Council: almost our entire budget is built on the sale of what we extract in these caves. Right down to the monster corpses. But, I agree, sothing must be done."

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The Seventh Mage threw up his hands: "All our Archons and Magisters are currently in other states, busy clearing foreign caves. We simply have no free forces of that level."

The Eighth Mage (the diplomat) tapped his fingers nervously on the table: "Yes, we have neglected one cave. But what will happen if other states find out about our weakness? Even though it is the dawn of magic now, we still lack forces. This could strike a blow to our reputation!"

A heavy pause hung in the hall. All options seed like dead ends.

At that mont, the green-haired Naya (the Ninth) finally stopped looking at the ceiling. She straightened up in her chair, cast a glance over those present, and pronounced in an even tone:

"Then we act according to the usual template. We will send Grandmaster Zenkhald."

The Sixth Mage, responsible for finances, nervously interlaced his fingers and leaned forward: "Zenkhald absolutely does not know how to work carefully! He will simply blow all the monsters to dust or use so kind of monstrous magic, and we will lose almost all the potential inco. And even worse—what if he completely caves in the mineshafts, as has already happened in the past! The more difficult the dungeon, the more valuable the materials extracted from the monsters. We cannot risk resources like that!"

The First Mage nodded in agreent: "That is the absolute truth. Besides, he is astoundingly irresponsible. Last ti he fell asleep right on the twentieth floor! Simply because he got 'bored.' He completely fails to take the threat seriously; for him, this is all just so kind of ridiculous ga."

The Fourth Mage slamd his palm forcefully against the wooden table: "He absolutely does not know how to work in a team! Allies next to him risk suffering more than from the creatures themselves. An acquaintance told

that during one of the clearings where Zenkhald was present, he simply froze his own partners. And do you know why? Because, and I quote, they 'annoyed the hell out of him' with their talking and advice!"

The mage sitting opposite the empty chair of the tenth mber sighed heavily and rubbed the bridge of his nose: "I don't even know what to say... On one hand, the novices seem to understand what level they are descending to and what the risk is. But at the sa ti... leaving a mutating cave unchecked is out of the question."

Naya simply sat there, leaning back in her chair. She smiled barely noticeably, listening to all this indignation. It was all true.

Silence fell over the hall.

The Council quieted down. The high mages of Mount Slick frowned, scratched the backs of their heads, and nervously rubbed their chins, ntally weighing all the pros and cons.

And yet... they simply had no other options left.