CHAPTER 273: COUNCIL’S DECISION

The council chamber felt heavier than usual as the eight elders took their seats. Elder Míngzhì’s chair remained empty, a reminder of the betrayal that had brought them together for this emergency session.

Húwáng entered the formal ceremony as he took his position at the head of the circular chamber. Princess Ruxi followed, taking her designated seat as heir, while Húxiān settled into the guest position reserved for divine advisors.

Grim sat in the section allocated for concerned parties, though his presence carried more weight than his official status suggested.

"This council convenes to determine the fate of Elder Míngzhì," Húwáng announced. "The charges are clear: providing forbidden knowledge to an enemy of the realm, enabling dangerous ritual magic, and betraying his oath as keeper of restricted texts."

"The evidence is overwhelming," Elder Qīngfēng said immediately. "Elder Míngzhì admitted his involvement in yesterday’s session. The question isn’t guilt but appropriate punishment."

"Treason of this magnitude typically carries severe consequences," Elder Míngjìng observed. "The precedent must be clear."

"What precedent?" Elder Wénhuà asked with concern. "We’ve never faced betrayal from within the council itself."

"Which makes this situation more dangerous," Elder Tiānkōng added. "If council members can’t be trusted with forbidden knowledge, our entire security system is compromised."

Grim rose from his seat, drawing immediate attention from the assembled council.

"Your Majesty," he said formally, "I request permission to speak on Elder Míngzhì’s behalf."

The request sent ripples of surprise through the chamber. Several elders exchanged glances that clearly questioned his motivations.

"You wish to defend the man who enabled your attempted murder?" Elder Zhìhuì asked with obvious confusion.

"I wish to present a complete picture of events," Grim replied calmly. "The council deserves to understand the full context before determining punishment."

"What context could possibly justify his actions?" Elder Cháng demanded.

"The context of manipulation and deception," Grim said, stepping forward to address the council directly. "Elder Míngzhì didn’t provide forbidden knowledge to a known enemy. He was deceived by someone he trusted."

"Xùyán was hardly subtle about his hostility toward you," Elder Qīngfēng pointed out.

"No, but he was subtle about his intentions," Grim countered. "Elder Míngzhì believed Xùyán would challenge me to formal combat, not attempt a catastrophic ritual."

"The result was the same regardless of intent," Elder Míngjìng said firmly. "Half our realm nearly burned because of his poor judgment."

"Poor judgment isn’t treason," Grim replied. "It’s a mistake, and one that can be corrected through proper oversight rather than execution."

The word ’execution’ hung in the air. None of the elders had explicitly mentioned capital punishment, but everyone understood it was being considered.

"You’re suggesting we simply overlook this betrayal?" Elder Tiānkōng asked with obvious disbelief.

"I’m suggesting we respond proportionally," Grim said. "Elder Míngzhì made a serious error, but he didn’t intend to endanger the realm. Destroying him serves no purpose beyond revenge."

"It serves justice," Elder Cháng said angrily. "And it ensures other council members understand the consequences of betraying their oaths."

"Does it?" Grim challenged. "Or does it create a climate of fear that prevents honest counsel when it’s needed most?"

Princess Ruxi stood up gracefully.

"Lord Ambrose raises valid concerns," she said carefully. "Fear-based governance rarely produces the best outcomes."

"Princess," Elder Qīngfēng said respectfully, "your compassion is admirable, but the security implications—"

"Are exactly why we need measured responses rather than emotional ones," Ruxi interrupted gently. "Destroying Elder Míngzhì’s decades of knowledge and experience weakens us more than his mistake did."

Húxiān rose next, her divine presence immediately shifting the chamber’s atmosphere.

"I’ve observed the events in question carefully," she said. "Elder Míngzhì’s actions were foolish but not malicious. The distinction matters."

"Honored Húxiān," Elder Zhìhuì said carefully, "what would you recommend?"

"Punishment that serves rehabilitation rather than destruction," she replied without hesitation. "Remove his access to forbidden texts, assign oversight to his future activities, but preserve his counsel for matters that don’t involve security."

"You’re asking us to trust someone who’s already betrayed that trust," Elder Míngjìng observed.

"I’m asking you to be strategic rather than vindictive," Húxiān corrected. "Dead enemies can’t become allies, but chastened ones often prove surprisingly loyal."

Húwáng had remained silent throughout the debate, but now he leaned forward with obvious interest.

"Lord Ambrose," the Fox King said formally, "you were the primary target of this betrayal. Your willingness to show mercy is notable, but what assurance can you provide that such mercy is justified?"

"Elder Míngzhì understands his position clearly," Grim replied. "He knows that his survival depends on proving his worth to the realm. That’s a powerful motivator for future loyalty."

"And if he betrays that trust again?"

"Then I’ll personally ensure he faces appropriate consequences," Grim said with quiet certainty.

"The political ramifications concern me," Elder Zhìhuì said after several moments of consideration. "Showing mercy to a traitor could be seen as weakness."

"By whom?" Princess Ruxi asked pointedly. "Our enemies, who would be happy to see us tear ourselves apart with internal executions? Or our allies, who value justice tempered with wisdom?"

"The princess makes a valid point," Elder Wénhuà agreed. "Excessive punishment could damage our reputation for fair governance."

Elder Qīngfēng looked torn between her natural caution and the mounting arguments for mercy.

"What specific measures would ensure Elder Míngzhì poses no future threat?" she asked finally.

"Restricted access to sensitive materials," Grim suggested. "Required approval for any research involving forbidden knowledge. Perhaps assignment of a monitoring companion for sensitive activities."

"Essentially treating him as a probationary member," Elder Míngjìng mused.

"And it allows us to benefit from his expertise while minimizing risk," Elder Tiānkōng added, his spiritual concerns apparently satisfied by the oversight provisions.

Húwáng studied the faces of his council members carefully.

"Elder Cháng," he said finally, "you’ve been notably quiet. What are your thoughts?"

Elder Cháng struggled visibly with the decision. His anger at the betrayal warred with the logical arguments for mercy.

"I want assurance that he understands the seriousness of his actions," he said finally. "And that any future betrayal will be met with the full consequences he’s avoiding today."

"I believe those assurances can be provided," Húwáng said with satisfaction. "Very well. The council will vote on the proposed mercy terms."

The formal vote proceeded quickly, with seven elders supporting the modified punishment and only Elder Míngjìng dissenting on grounds that the precedent was too lenient.

"Elder Míngzhì will retain his council position but lose access to forbidden archives," Húwáng announced. "All his research activities will require prior approval, and he will be assigned a monitoring companion for activities involving sensitive materials."

"And if he violates these terms?" Elder Qīngfēng asked.

"Then he faces the full consequences of his original betrayal," Húwáng replied grimly. "With no possibility of further mercy."

As the council session concluded, Grim felt satisfaction at the outcome.

Elder Míngzhì would live to honor their agreement, and the council had demonstrated that justice could be tempered with practical considerations.

More importantly, he had gained significant political capital by showing mercy to an enemy, while simultaneously ensuring that enemy owed him a debt that could prove valuable in future conflicts.

The game of politics, Grim reflected, often rewarded those who thought beyond immediate revenge to long-term advantage.