Published at 15th of February 2026 10:09 am

Chapter 1503 Cost of Leadership

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Uther Bowman's expression didn't change.

He was the purest embodiment of the Diplomats' creed. He built power not through open force, but through carefully cultivated alliances.

Every favor he granted came with invisible strings, every arrangement layered with contingencies meant to keep others dependent on him.

Yet beneath the polished diplomacy lay something colder.

Bowman was a true machiavellian, viewing loyalty as a tool and ideals as conveniences rather than principles. He didn't believe in right or wrong, only outcomes.

When he heard the gnome's voice dripping with mockery, he didn't lose his composure. He smiled faintly in return and offered a nod.

"Welcome to the Council of Dawn, Lord Glynhorn," he said in a warm voice. "My name is Uther Bowman. I am pleased to finally meet you."

The other Councilors at the table remained silent, knowing full well it wasn't their time to intervene. While Jidu and Yates observed the gnome to see how he carried himself as a Councilor, Yaegar and Hastings only hoped for a non-hostile relationship with him.

"Uther Bowman, eh?" Berger exhaled a plume of smoke into the air as he leaned back in his seat.

"Pray tell, Uther Bowman," he added. "Where were you during the Battle of Ravenfell that took place more than thirty-five years ago? Clearly not on the bloody battlefield, from what I can tell."

"I was right where every other Councilor was," Bowman said with a smile. "Here in Europa."

"Why weren't reinforcements sent on time?" The gnome asked, his eyes flashing with a sharp light. "My mentor told me he had arranged for reinforcements weeks before the battle even began. So how come they never arrived?"

Uther Bowman calmly met Berger's gaze without flinching, his expression calm, almost… regretful.

"There were complications," he said evenly. "Logistical failures we couldn't have foreseen. Several transport systems malfunctioned at critical moments, and rerouting troops through conventional means would have taken a long time."

He paused briefly before continuing. "At the same time, Cult activity along the northern border surged unexpectedly. Entire cells surfaced at once. We were forced to divert manpower to prevent a far greater catastrophe."

The elderly Councilor let out a light sigh. "Hard choices had to be made. Resources were limited, information was incomplete, and the situation evolved faster than anyone had anticipated. By the time the Council reached a consensus, it was already too late."

He lowered his head, hiding the cold gleam in his eyes. "Tragic, yes. But this is the cost of leadership in uncertain times."

Bowman wasn't lying. There were indeed unexpected attacks from the Cult at the border between the Empire and the Union. This gave him the perfect excuse to prevent reinforcements from being sent across the Galestine.

Of course, it was a different matter altogether that he had conspired with the Cult of Bones and arranged for them to attack the border before the Battle of Ravenfell began.

Berger couldn't openly refute Bowman's claims. After all, he was well aware that the Cult had launched a major offensive along the Union's northern borders around the same time as the Battle of Ravenfell.

But at the same time, he couldn't help but sneer.

"How convenient," he chuckled coldly.

Bowman's eyes narrowed. And even Hastings and Yaegar felt their hearts tightening ever so slightly.

"What are you trying to insinuate, Lord Glynhorn?" Bowman asked with the same smile, except… it seemed much less friendly now.

Berger took in another puff from the pipe, then asked, "What do you know about Marden Benton?"

"Well, we know he's an Elder of the Cult's Inner Circle," Bowman answered without hesitation. "He's also one of the most powerful Magi on this continent — no, in the world. Anyone who is a part of the Inner Circle is a highly accomplished Magus with very few equals."

"Do you know him personally?" Berger asked with a faint smile.

Bowman's eyes narrowed.

"No, Lord Glynhorn," he said after a brief pause. "I do not know him personally."

Berger chuckled. "Don't get so angry. It was just a question."

"Is that so?" Bowman smiled. "Then may I ask a question of my own?"

"Why not?"

Bowman's smile deepened. "What do you have to say about your disciple, the Deceitful One, who is said to have deep ties with the Cult of Bones? Our intelligence suggests he was raised by the Cult itself, groomed to be an asset embedded deep within our organization."

He paused for a moment, his eyes narrowing. "I can't help but wonder… were you aware of this from the beginning?"

Berger intently studied the elderly man. His lips curled into a cold smile, and he asked, "You're not naive enough to believe those bogus claims, are you?"

He paused, his eyes flashing with dark hostility. "Of course, it's a different matter entirely if that information came to you directly from the Cult itself."

Bowman smiled coldly. And so did Berger.

Before thier exchange escalated any further, Shaw Jidu chimed in with a light chuckle.

"Ah, it is so good to have Lord Glynhorn with us," he began. "Now that all Councilors have gathered, shall we begin discussing the important matters pertaining to the organization?"

Hastings and Yaegar awkwardly nodded.

Yates hummed lightly in acknowledgment.

Finally, Bowman and Berger agreed as well.

"Excellent," Jidu said with a smile. "Now, as you can see…"

He glanced at the two empty chairs and continued, "We are still missing two Councilors. Their seats need to be filled as soon as possible."

"Councilor Preskian was a dear friend of my predecessor," said Berger. "So I shall take the responsibility to nurture a Mana Core Magus from the Wildwatchers faction."

"Then I shall be responsible for the Shadowblades," Bowman quickly said.

He was a lone ship sailing in the stormy sea. For some wildly delusional reason, Hastings and Yaegar had stopped trusting him. So he had to cultivate new allies.

Besides, it wasn't as if there were a lack of Magi in the Brotherhood who stood at the peak of the Mana Vortex Rank. With enough time, proper guidance, and sufficient resources, many of them could bloom into Mana Core Magi.

Though the difficulty of such an advancement remained immense.

The Council reached an agreement and moved on to the next item on the agenda.

***

At the same time the council meeting was underway, Springdale welcomed an eccentric visitor through its eastern gates.

Standing amid a packed road of Trade Ward, an elderly Magus wearing flamboyant attire twirled the end of his white mustache. A velvet beret sat proudly atop his head, adorned by a peacock feather that swayed gently in the wind.

Despite the armed city guards forming a cautious perimeter around him, he showed no concern at all.

Instead, he threw back his head and laughed heartily.

"Hohoho, the City of Everlasting Warmth sure is lively!"

The wandering Magus Nilrem had finally made an appearance!

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