I Screwed the Novel's Plot

–Thud!

The door closed and I immediately turned to the troublemaker. I wanted to scold him but I couldn't bring myself to open my mouth when I saw him.

Also, I had to restrain myself from raising my voice against him, we just fixed our relationship. Not to mention that he helped me a few seconds ago.

'But this little brat.'

He was in a strange mood somehow. His eyes twinkled in excitement, even the atmosphere around him was so bright.

I was afraid my eyes would go blind if I stared at them too long.

"Does being able to attend the conference make you incredibly happy?"

His smile stretched wide. He should stop it, he sent chills down my spine for no reason.

"Of course, it does. When you're one step closer to your goal, shouldn't you be happy?"

"What goal?"

He made a thinking pose and after a short pause, he answered.

"Secret?"

My lips twitched.

'This bastard.'

I couldn't help but palmed my face. If he had no intention of telling me, why made me wait? Such a waste of time. But, whatever.

"Thanks."

One of his brows lifted.

"About what?"

"The papers."

He nodded several times and got up from the chair, then he spoke.

"You gave me money so I should at least pay you in some way."

I followed him and we walked side by side toward the entrance.

"I see. But, why do you want to attend the conference so badly?"

The Guards opened the door and we stepped outside.

"It's for my own benefit."

"What ben–"

"See ya."

"Hei!"

Damian ran towards Fedel and Sir Ulrich. The two of them bowed upon seeing me and I nodded in response. They spun and I saw them walking away silently.

'How come the conference benefits him?'

No matter how much I thought about it, I couldn't figure it out.

'I mean–what benefit does he derive from watching and listening to some old men debate?'

Or maybe… Did he start to get interested in politics and want to take a step closer to the political scene?

'Hmm… I guess so.'

Well, the throne was his anyway, and I would gladly pave his path to it.

.

.

.

I arrived at the conference hall at the promised time.

"Your Highness."

I glanced at the voice and a light green-haired man with glasses bowed at me. He lifted his back and a pair of dark blue eyes came into view as looked at me gently. He smiled benignly.

"I will guide you to the balcony seat box."

"Alright."

"This way, please."

I followed him up the stairs. The only sounds I could hear were our footsteps because neither of us wanted to talk. Soon after, he stopped and positioned himself beside the door.

"His Highness the Second Prince is waiting inside."

"I see. Thank you."

"My pleasure."

The guard opened the door and I entered without much thought.

–Thud!

The door behind me closed and the dim light inside the room greeted my sight.

"You arrived?"

I glanced at the voice and a white-haired boy was seen, he was standing by the stone railing. I talked whilst approaching him.

"It's rare to see you coming before me."

"I'll take that as a compliment."

I stood next to him and we switched our eyes down to the conference hall.

A rectangular podium in the front and five rows of seats in a semi-circle classroom style neatly lined up.

"That's the amplifier device, right?"

I whirled my head to where Damian was pointing and a round white object came into view. The amplifier device was a tool that transferred our voice outside.

"Yes."

Unlike the noise below that could reach here, the sound in this room would not be heard anywhere. That was why each balcony had those things.

If we wanted to make an opinion, all we had to do was channel our mana into it, and our voices would echo throughout the room.

"Dame Illya the 3rd Marshal is entering!"

Dame Illya was the only woman in the Marshal ranks. She had beautiful tangerine hair with eye color similar to citrine gems. People named her 'Goddess of the Battlefield'.

"Sir Troy, the 4th Admiral is entering!"

The guard continued to announce their presence both from Knights and Marines starting from the lower to higher ranking officers in turns.

"Sir Kenneth, the 1st Field Marshal is entering!"

If a Marshal was a Field Army head that contained 100,000 to 150,000 knights, then a Field Marshal was an Army Group head; an Army Group combined two or more Field Army.

The Field Marshal was right below the Grand Marshal who was none other but the Emperor himself.

"Sir Hervey, the 1st Fleet Admiral is entering!"

I clutched the stone fence with bitter memories. Seeing many high-ranking officers gathered here reminded me of the last battle with that shitty organization.

After the Guard finished announcing the Military people, he began to move to the noble faction.

"Count Andreas from the Malthe region is entering!"

A blonde-haired man came into the room. He lifted his head and his emerald eyes darted onto us. Chislon waved his hand before resuming his step.

'Isn't that this brat's Elementalist Teacher?'

Truthfully, every balcony was protected by a magical device to hide the existence inside and block the view from outside.

But the man seemed to be aware of his disciple's appearance here. Well, as expected of a future Elder of the Arcanist Tower.

"Duke Desdemona from Malthe region is entering!"

Black-haired with a few strands of gray hair came into view, he walked leisurely towards his seat.

"That's your grandfather, right?"

Damian's voice penetrated my ears and I replied without taking my eyes off the old man.

"Yes."

Godwin Desdemona was a militant man who believed that the only way for an Empire to succeed was to have unparalleled military power, rigid order, and a centralized government.

"His Majesty the Emperor is entering!"

The audience immediately stood up and bowed as Dariush walked toward his podium.

"We greet His Majesty the Emperor of the Chrono Empire."

The white-haired man sat on his dais.

"Have a seat."

People did as he ordered and Dariush made a short speech to open the conference.

"Didn't you say that the Elders of Arcanist Tower would be attending? But I didn't hear the Guard announce their appearance?"

I turned to him and our eyes met.

"I did."

"Then where are they?"

"Across from us."

I titled my head sideways; beckoning to the balcony seat box across the hall that faced ours.

"So why didn't they join the people below?"

"That's because they can not show their face to the public."

Damian's forehead creased, his face full of question marks.

"Why is that?"

I turned around and strode to my seat at the back.

"Nevermind."

It almost slipped out of my mouth.

"What is that? Tell me."

I could hear his footsteps following me and we sat next to each other. I leaned against the chair and folded my arms and crossed my feet.

"Nah."

Damian looked at me in disbelief.

"So you're playing secret now?"

I shrugged.

"You will find out without me telling you anyway."

"Aren't you putting too much trust in me?"

"Is it bad?"

Complication dyed his face.

"It's… good."

He answered in a low tone, barely audible. I stretched my hand and patted his head.

'Although I know he doesn't fully trust me 100%, I'm still grateful.'

I withdrew my hand and spoke to alter the awkward atmosphere.

"Shall we watch the conference, then?"

"Yes."

It seemed the first topic had finished as Dariush's aide read the decree.

"The fallen knight will be rewarded with one promotion and the family left behind will be compensated with five thousand gold coins and food rations every month for half a year."

The man returned to his position and people nodded in satisfaction upon hearing it.

"Alright, we will move on to the next issue."

The flipping sound filled the room; all of them turned the page to the next subject. Their eyes move to every letter that was written in the report.

When the noise died down, Dariush continued.

"I will open the discussion."

"Ahem."

Duke Desdemona cleared his throat before speaking.

"Your Majesty, the Yovanny Kingdom had announced their conceding defeat yet, how dare they attack one of our Refugee Camps in the Egon Region? Doesn't this mean that they were toying with the truce we have given?"

Duchess Marlowe nodded and added.

"I concur with Duke Desdemona, Your Majesty. In my humble opinion, the Yovanny Kingdom is unforgivable. Fortunately, we could defend ourselves when the attack occurred and there were no casualties among the refugees. But, If by any chance we fail to hold them, we might lose more than two thousand lives of our people."

"Your Majesty, we could use this chance to set an example for other Kingdoms and also to expand our territory once more."

And one by one, people expressed the same statement that the Empire must not pardon the Yovanny Kingdom.

Well, I thought it would be different since I made a change. It turned out that the result was still the same as my past timeline.

As it became one sound, Dariush nodded, and just as he was about to open his mouth to wrap things up a voice interrupted him.

"With all due respect, Your Majesty. But I have to disagree–"

I was stunned. My eyes widened and I hastily turned my head when I recognized the owner's voice.

"–We cannot send our army there, we have to stop the war."

"Damian–what are you…?"

And the conference hall turned upside down.

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