After carefully reviewing the reports, a bright smile suddenly bloomed on Elvia's face.
It was as if a massive weight had been lifted from her shoulders.
“Good! That is wonderful!”
She even clapped her hands lightly, her voice carrying a long-lost cheerfulness.
“Rewards! Everyone shall be rewarded!”
She turned to her attendant and ordered briskly.
“Double the fees for all the scholars who participated in the consultation today.”
“And increase the monthly wages of all servants in the estate by thirty percent.”
Soon, a temporary yet far from simple celebratory banquet was held in the banquet hall of the princess's estate.
Crystal chandeliers shone brilliantly, and silverware gleamed.
Sitting at the head of the table, Elvia raised her glass to greet the invited scholars below.
She was all smiles, her words elegant and poised, as if she were truly celebrating nothing more than an “important academic breakthrough.”
The scholars below were also beaming with joy.
With their academic pursuits advanced and handsome rewards in hand, both host and guests thoroughly enjoyed themselves.
The atmosphere grew lively, and after three rounds of wine, Elvia casually asked with a hint of tipsiness in her smile:
“Speaking of which, I must thank you gentlemen for helping me clear my thoughts and debunk those alarmist rumors.”
An elderly scholar quickly replied with humility:
“Your Highness flatters us.”
“In truth, we only deduced this based on common sense.”
“After all, the prophecies of the past Holy Saintesses have never been wrong...”
The smile on Elvia's face froze instantly.
The Holy Saintess's prophecy???
Her fingers holding the wine glass tightened slightly.
“...The Holy Saintess's prophecy?”
Her voice remained steady, carrying just the right amount of confusion.
“The conclusion you gentlemen reached...”
“Was it not obtained through a comprehensive analysis comparing the activity patterns and anomalous data of demon nests prior to past Dark Tides?”
She looked around at the scholars below, her smile fading slightly.
“I recall that the materials I provided and your reports... did not seem to mention any prophecy from the Holy Saintess.”
The air fell silent for a brief moment.
The flush on the elderly scholar's face faded a bit, and a flash of awkwardness and realization quickly darted through his eyes.
Having navigated the academic and courtly circles for many years, he immediately understood the issue.
“Uh... Your Highness is absolutely correct!”
He quickly adjusted his expression and explained with sincerity.
“The analysis of demon activity and abnormal climates is naturally the main body and foundation of our proof.”
“The Holy Saintess's prophecy... was merely a very minor, auxiliary reference point to embellish it.”
He coughed lightly, trying to make his words sound more believable.
“After all, prophecies themselves are rather... abstract, making them difficult to use as the core basis of a rigorous argument.”
He did not know why this princess was so sensitive to, and even somewhat resistant to, the Holy Saintess's prophecy.
Nor did he dare mention that this group of scholars, hired at such a high price, actually shared a tacit understanding in their hearts:
The Dark Tide could not possibly originate in the borderlands.
And the core basis for this judgment was, in fact, the Holy Saintess's prophecy.
As for the two pieces of intelligence Princess Elvia had privately provided—the evacuation of the banshees from Eagle Fortress and the abnormal migration of the Brain-Digger Demons—in the eyes of the scholars, they proved absolutely nothing.
The Akara Continent was simply too vast.
Demon migrations and tribal upheavals occurred in some corner almost every single moment.
It could be for foraging, territorial disputes, or perhaps some powerful demon had simply sneezed.
To assert that a Dark Tide would originate in the borderlands and affect the Royal Capital based on just these two isolated pieces of information?
To them, this seemed more like an overreaction lacking any solid evidence.
Of course, these words would never be written in the reports, nor would they be spoken at the banquet.
Elvia looked at the scholars' sincere yet slightly guilty expressions, but her heart kept pounding.
No one understood why Elvia was so resistant to the Holy Saintess's prophecy.
Only she knew.
That “bizarre feeling” had long been like a thorn in her side.
After the banquet ended, she dismissed her attendants and accessed the sealed church records alone in her study.
Those were the prophetic archives left by the past Holy Saintesses before the arrival of the Dark Tides in various regions.
The more she read, the heavier the chill in her heart became.
The prophecies of the past Holy Saintesses were strikingly consistent in style—brief, direct, and even cold.
Facing a city-state on the brink of destruction, the prophecy was often just a single line:
“All perished.”
Or even simpler:
“None remain.”
But if the city-state could survive, the prophecy was usually:
“Safe.”
“Defensible.”
They were like cold verdicts, without embellishment or metaphor.
Yet when it came to the Carter Royal Capital, when it came to Eve...
“I see a deathly thick mist shrouding broken towers and collapsed palaces.”
“But I also see... new sprouts growing resiliently from the cracks of the ruins.”
“The golden sunlight will eventually pierce the haze, shining upon... a brand-new kingdom.”
What did “broken towers” mean?
What did “collapsed palaces” mean?
What did “sprouts growing from the ruins” mean?
Almost everyone had been blinded by the end of the prophecy, which implied that the Carter Royal Capital would still exist.
They ignored the preceding string of unsettling, vividly detailed “descriptions.”
Since the founding of the Carter Kingdom, the Royal Capital had never been truly affected by any war.
Even when a tributary of the Dark Tide brushed past the border ten years ago, it failed to shake this grand city in the slightest.
Yet Eve's description sounded as if she were personally witnessing an extremely tragic siege.
Tragic enough to cause Stellar Mountain, the symbol of royal power and faith, to collapse.
To cause the towering palace complexes to crumble, turning this city into... a pile of ruins.
Elvia massaged her aching temples.
Could it be a western crusade?
Because Caesar's plan to assassinate the Holy Saintess had been exposed?
But the Holy Saintess herself should be with Lin Gui right now.
And she had left with the tacit permission of her Disciplinary Knight.
The logic didn't add up.
No matter how much she thought, she still couldn't find an answer that convinced her.
A voice inside her grew clearer and clearer: Leave this place. Take temporary shelter elsewhere, and return after the Dark Tide has passed.
But another, more realistic voice immediately suppressed it: You cannot leave.
The struggle for the throne had reached its final critical moment.
Her royal father, whom she had originally planned to hold as a mere puppet, had passed away from illness at this exact juncture.
The kind that even an Umbral Tree Flower could not save.
This, instead, pushed her to the forefront of the storm.
Eldest Princess Diana and Third Prince Charles—countless eyes were staring intently at her.
If she dared to pull away now, even for just a few days, it would be equivalent to handing over everything she had built to others.
She would be completely marginalized, forever cut off from the throne.
Therefore, she could not leave.
Elvia leaned back against her chair and closed her eyes wearily.
What inexplicably surfaced in her mind was actually that brief period when she traversed the wilderness with Lin Gui, Theia, and the others.
It had been dangerous, crude, and even hand-to-mouth.
Yet strangely, there was a certain... simplicity that she missed.
There were no endless banquets, schemes, or superficial pleasantries.
Only traveling, marching, and delicious food.
And the elf who always bickered with her.
She recalled the calm warning Lin Gui had given before he left.
Elvia opened her eyes and clicked her tongue.
“Forget it, let's get some insurance first.”
She summoned her trusted attendant.
“I recall the dwarven transport team heading to Shield City is set to depart in a few days?”
“Yes, Your Highness. They depart the day after tomorrow, at dawn.”
Elvia spoke at a steady pace.
“Arrange for something to be delivered to Shield City through them.”
“To be sent to...”
“Shield City's...”
“7-Copper Post Office.”
“And delivered into the hands of its owner.”
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