CHAPTER 778: THE TECHNO PLAN (2)

The council members nodded, each of them knowing that the battle for control was far from over. They may have agreed on the strategy, but each one of them knew that in the end, there could only be one victor.

As they began to leave the room, the last words of the council meeting echoed in the air.

Ryline’s voice, soft but sure, carried the weight of the decision they had made. "Now we make our move."

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The war room of the Technomancer League felt colder with each passing word. The stone walls, etched with centuries of arcane power, seemed to grow more oppressive as the arguments swirled around the council table. The weight of their plans, their ambitions, and their rivalries hung thick in the air, suffocating in its intensity. A crackling hum, faint but constant, came from the manac crystals embedded in the walls, their light pulsing in rhythm with the heated discourse.

King Helmis was the first to break the silence, his voice loud, booming, filled with the excitement of someone on the verge of action. "We can’t afford to wait any longer!" His fingers drummed impatiently on the table, a sharp staccato that only added to the tension in the room. His bright eyes flicked toward King Varion and Queen Ryline, daring them to argue against him. "The dungeon is within our grasp. Every moment we wait, Silvarion Thalor strengthens its defenses. We need the manac crystals. We need the artifacts. This is our chance!"

King Varion remained seated, his posture rigid and cold. His sharp blue eyes narrowed, scanning the room as he considered Helmis’s words. "And if we rush in without understanding the consequences?" His voice was calm, measured, but there was an edge to it. "We could lose more than just soldiers. We risk losing everything."

Helmis waved a hand dismissively, as if brushing away the notion of consequences. "You always want to play it safe, Varion. But you forget—sometimes, risks are worth taking." He leaned forward, his elbows resting on the table, his gaze now fixed on Queen Ryline, who had remained silent up until now.

Ryline’s dark eyes flicked toward Helmis, her lips curling into a faint, calculating smile. She was known for her ability to read the room, to manipulate situations to her advantage, and right now, she could see the cracks in Helmis’s argument. "Risk, yes," she began, her voice smooth, like silk, but with an undercurrent of authority that demanded attention. "But patience is a far more dangerous weapon. Elowen Nyphara may appear distracted by Mikhailis, but we cannot underestimate her. Not now. Not when the manac crystals we seek may very well be tied to her bloodline."

There was a subtle shift in the room as Ryline’s words settled. Helmis stiffened, his eyes flashing with irritation. He opened his mouth to speak, but Ryline raised a hand, silencing him before he could voice his rebuttal.

"We’ve underestimated Elowen before," Ryline continued, her gaze now fixed on Zalrun, the Archmagister, who had been quietly observing the tension between Helmis and Varion. He had not yet spoken, but everyone in the room knew that his voice carried weight. "She’s more than just a queen. She is a force—a power we cannot simply dismiss." Her eyes softened for just a moment, a hint of something deeper flashing beneath the surface. "The arcane knowledge hidden within that dungeon could be the key to breaking the war wide open. But we must tread carefully. Elowen may have weaknesses, but her strength is not something we can afford to ignore."

Zalrun tilted his head slightly, his fingers tapping rhythmically against the wooden table. His gaze flicked from Helmis to Ryline, his expression unreadable. "Patience is a valuable tool," he said finally, his voice low but steady. "But we must remember that Elowen is not alone. Her strength lies not just in her own magic but in her alliances. Serelith, Vyrelda, the arcane constructs—they all serve her. We must be smart. We must act with precision." He paused, his eyes darkening slightly as he glanced toward Helmis. "But rushing in without understanding the full extent of what we’re up against will lead to more than just failure—it could lead to destruction."

Helmis scowled, his hands balling into fists. "You’re all acting like Elowen is some untouchable god! She’s distracted by Mikhailis. That’s her weakness! The only reason she’s still a threat is because we keep second-guessing ourselves."

Ryline’s lips curled into a tight smile, her gaze never leaving Helmis. "Elowen’s attachment to Mikhailis is indeed something we can exploit," she said softly, the words sharp like a blade. "But don’t mistake that for weakness. She may be distracted, but she is still the queen of Silvarion Thalor. If we are to take the dungeon, we must be strategic. Elowen’s power is tied to the very magic that flows through Silvarion. If we underestimate her, we risk everything."

A heavy silence settled over the room as Helmis mulled over Ryline’s words. He wasn’t one to be swayed easily, but the weight of their argument was starting to chip away at his resolve. The dungeon had to be theirs, but how? Helmis’s impatience still gnawed at him, but he knew there was no going back once the decision was made.

Zalrun cleared his throat softly, his voice cutting through the tension like a knife. "If I may, the issue is not just about rushing in or waiting for the perfect moment. It is about using what we have—and what we know. Mikhailis is the key. He may appear to be a pawn, but Elowen’s attachment to him runs deeper than we realize. She may be vulnerable in some ways, but Mikhailis is the wild card. If we can manipulate him, we can manipulate her."

The council room fell silent again, the weight of Zalrun’s words sinking in. Helmis leaned forward, his expression one of disbelief. "You want us to manipulate a fool? Mikhailis is a distraction, nothing more."

Zalrun’s eyes glinted in the dim light as he fixed his gaze on Helmis. "A fool, yes. But a fool who holds the queen’s heart. And that, Helmis, is a dangerous thing to ignore."

Ryline tilted her head, considering Zalrun’s words. "If we can control Mikhailis, we control Elowen. And if we control Elowen, we control the dungeon." Her voice dropped to a murmur. "We can use him to our advantage, slowly undermining her confidence, making her doubt her position."

Helmis looked skeptical, but Zalrun’s smile was cold and calculating. "Patience, yes. But we must also use our enemies’ weaknesses. Mikhailis’s emotions are a key. If we play it correctly, we can gain access to the dungeon before Silvarion even knows what’s happening."

The room was silent, each member lost in their thoughts. They could all see the merit in Zalrun’s plan, even if it was a dangerous game to play. The dungeon was no longer just a prize to be won; it was the key to control. Whoever held the manac crystals, the arcane artifacts, would have an advantage in the war. And that advantage could shift the balance in ways none of them could fully predict.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity of silence, Varion spoke again, his voice calm but firm. "We will wait. But we will also prepare. We cannot afford to waste time once we make our move." He looked at each member of the council, ensuring his gaze held them in place. "We will act, but we must act with precision."

Helmis clenched his jaw but finally nodded. "Fine," he muttered, his frustration palpable. "We wait. But not for long. Once we have what we need, we move in. Mikhailis will fold. And then, we take the dungeon."

Ryline and Zalrun exchanged a look, both silently agreeing with Varion’s plan. Helmis may have been frustrated, but even he knew that rushing in would lead to disaster. The dungeon was their prize, but they could not afford to lose everything for the sake of immediacy.

In the end, after a few more exchanges, the decision was made. The plan was set in motion. Patience would guide their next steps, but once the moment was right, they would strike. The dungeon would be theirs, but only when the moment was perfect.

The council room’s air hummed with an unnatural stillness as the debate finally slowed to a halt. The Technomancer League’s inner circle had been locked in heated discussion for what felt like hours. Arguments, counterarguments, whispers of dissent, and promises of power had all circled in a whirlwind, each faction vying for control over the treasure of the dungeon. But now, it was over. The decision had been made, and the path ahead was set.

As the last words were spoken, the tension that had saturated the room for so long slowly began to dissipate. One by one, the members of the council began to rise, their movements deliberate, purposeful. Their minds were already turning toward the future, to the plan that had been set in motion. But the air in the room, thick with the residue of their shared ambition, seemed to hold its breath, as if the very walls of the chamber could feel the weight of what was about to unfold. The future of kingdoms was being shaped in this very moment, and the steps they took now would echo across the world.