“…I mean, I don’t care,” Rakna suddenly said as soon as he entered the Myth Tower and saw what lay behind its entrance. Astraea sweatdropped at his obviously insincere tone. “But… if this is how you’re going to do it, then why a tower?”

What lay in front of him was an infinite expanse of pasture. Just grass. Everywhere. Grass. And of course, a clear blue sky, cloudless and bright. Then… more grass.

“It’s pretty,” Lanata stuck out her head from behind Rakna. “It’s my first time here,” she poked her lips with her finger as her sheep ears wiggled. She had never participated in the Council meetings ever since she had been crowned ‘Empress’. It had never interested her.

Ceresta quietly took in the peaceful scenery, and Cura, ever so silent, had already sat down on the ground some distance away and closed his eyes.

“This place is good for when fights break out,” Fiora explained. “The space available is as big as it appears. Small conflicts between top powers, even if not escalated into real hostility, cause severe upshots. Being inside a building or a room would make a mess.”

“Yes, but like… why a tower…?” The therian made a strange face.

“Calm down, Xiorra,” Hans deadpanned. “Your pathetic excuse of a brain is going to overheat.”

Rakna’s raised an eyebrow at him. “My brain is augmented past even scientific limits,” he defended himself, not even surprised by the author’s presence inside this place.

“Precisely.”

“You guys…” Zialtra muttered in disbelief as she appeared behind them.

“Still…” Rakna dropped his joke and looked a bit off in the distance. Slightly spread out, he saw the other members of the Council standing in wait. He spotted Enya crossing her arms whilst sitting on a chair made out of her own magic, apparently woven from grass blades.

‘I don’t sense any affinity in the mana she used. So, it’s a neutral spell. That’s… a uselessly impressive show of magic formation mastery,’ the therian remarked internally. ‘But she most likely did not even think about it. That’s how effortless it was for her...’

‘Next…’ He looked away and blankly looked at a certain Pavilion President lying in the grass. ‘Kryas is sleeping over there, of course,’ he thought.

Hybran Blacksteel was here as well but that was about it for the people he could recognize. He did have a hunch for a few of them though, especially a certain pair; a robust man with tiger ears and a rueful one with fox ears.

Two of the strongest Patriarchs of the Nine-Tailed Clan; Ghura Matuc and Karyu Yahkshasa. There was only Lucrecia missing today, the last of the three ‘Grand Patriarchs’ of the Clan.

“{Oh, look, your father-in-law,}” Fray jested.

Rakna coincidentally exchanged glances with the Fox Patriarch, and both simply nodded at each other, keeping whatever chat they wanted to have for after the meeting.

Karyu aside, without using Crystal Sight, there was no one he knew anything about anymore. And while he has no qualms using it on most people, it was better to be careful in a place filled with this many key figures.

‘Azheim isn’t here either. His arrival probably marks the start of the meeting,’ he thought.

However, he quickly memorized the profiles of everyone here. An old man with a muscular frame and a formidably long beard was sitting silently, meditating. He wore a gray kimono and the hands that sat on his lap were visibly calloused and scarred.

Rakna had never seen him… but something told him he was the strongest person here. And purely based on his gut, he was pretty sure he knew exactly who that was.

There also was a tall man with pure black wings standing quietly near the old warrior. He had red eyes and long black hair tied into a ponytail. His clothes seemed oriental, similar to what Fray had been wearing when the therian met him, but with a color scheme leaning more on red and white.

Then, there was a smaller individual, clearly not human. He was a bit out of place since there was no mistaking his race; goblin. Despite that, he wore an expensive-looking suit and even a monocle of all things.

A bit to the side, excluded from everyone else, there was a very small reptilian creature with wings sitting on the ground like a cute plushie. It obviously looked like a dragon, but its less-than-a-baby size was quite jarring in a place like the Myth Council.

This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

Next to that tiny dragon, a cloaked humanoid figure stood silent and immobile. It was to the point that the only thing Rakna could sense from it was the air shifting when colliding with it. Though, he also unmistakably felt the ‘death aura’ around it, usually implying an undead.

Then, lastly, amongst what seemed to be the Locals, with Hybran and Gaelius, four people were also unknown to Rakna. One was a middle-aged man with sharp angular features, short white hair, narrow pale blue eyes, and long ears; putting him as a potential elf.

The second Local was an older man around fifty years of age, with brown hair and eyes, a trimmed beard, and a wide physical build. His attire stood out a bit, with a leather trench coat, and a color scheme of faded brown and gray. He gave off the impression of an artisan or a carpenter.

The third was comparatively younger, in his thirties perhaps, with a rugged face and a somewhat dusty outfit reminiscent of the old west standards on Earth. This was corroborated by the Stetson hat on the man’s head, practically making him look like a cowboy. But there were some additional nuances on his clothing that also reminded one of a farmer.

Finally, the last person was someone Rakna immediately classed as the strongest Local present, as long as Azheim had yet to arrive. It was a woman near her twenties according to appearance, with pale skin, blue hair, glassy silver eyes, and a lozenge white mark in the middle of her forehead.

With her white robe, of which some parts seemed to float over her shoulders, she radiated a unique presence. Rakna himself was alienated by her ‘aura’, since it was wholly distinct from what he was used to.

‘Right… if I had to guess,’ he squinted his eyes. ‘She’s a Cultivator,’ he concluded as he concentrated more on his Soul Sense, picking up the peculiar resonance of her soul power. It was refined in a way he wasn’t aware of, mixed with her Ki and Psyche. ‘I see. That’s what they call Qi, huh?’

At the same time as he made that realization, he started hearing voices fading in. He looked away from the mysterious woman and turned toward the source. It seemed new arrivers were in the middle of talking as they walked through the portal.

“…just… rude bitch!” That’s the first thing Rakna was able to hear and he blinked dazedly. He wasn’t the only one as several people sighed audibly, clearly used to it and past the point of even caring.

Then, three people appeared in the middle of the clearing. One was a young man wearing a white overcoat and robes of the same colors. He had blond hair and heterochromatic eyes, one blue and the other green. He had a Christian cross around his neck and his handsome looks were currently twisted in exasperation as two seemingly very young kids glowered at each other in front of him.

“Ugh! This is why I hate coming to these meetings!” One of them, a boy sharing the same traits as the older man behind him shouted; beautiful blond hair and a pair of cerulean eyes. “Go back to your mountain already, you brutish woman!”

“Hah! You wish!” The one who responded was a girl with purple hair reaching the middle of her back, purple eyes, and equally as small as he was. Despite her stature, she seemed to be unhesitant to wear loose clothing, sporting them somewhat frivolously, along with a red rope tied around her waist from which hung a gourd of some sort.

And most importantly, a pair of long reddish horns sprouted from her forehead. They were smooth, as if polished, and barely curved; quite elegant from a certain point of view.

“You religious groupies won’t get rid of us that easily!” She huffed, a fang protruding over her lower lip as she grinned. “We’ll fight you as much as needed.”

“Aaah! For the Lord’s sake! That’s the problem! Stop smuggling alcohol into our clergy!”

“Never!”

“Never, my ass!”

“It’s my duty to spread my faith in liquor just as much as you do your silly teachings.”

“Don’t compare our Church’s teachings to your wantonness!”

“…” Rakna watched, holding in a small laugh as well as a bit of incredulity. He felt like some school student who had wound up in the wrong classroom.

“Would you like me to identify them for you?” Fiora suggested dutifully.

“…I wouldn’t mind that.”

“Understood,” she nodded and pointed at the handsome man behind the two children. “First, this is Isael ‘Arthur’ Pario, Tenth Ranked Host. He’s affiliated with the Church as a Cardinal as well as their Holy Knight. He is the current wielder of Excalibur, and has been granted the name ‘Arthur’ in respect to that.”

The Qilin then pointed at the boy. “The one over there is Ulquiel Pario. He’s Isael’s older brother.”

“…older brother?” Rakna repeated, thinking he heard that wrong.

“Yes. Older brother,” Fiora confirmed with a smile. “Also, he’s the current Pope.”

Rakna’s mind shut down for a second before his head snapped toward her. “Excuse me…?”

“He’s the Pope,” the Divine Beast repeated herself, beaming in happiness. It was like she didn’t care about what she was answering, but rather indulged in the fact that Rakna was relying on her.

“He is the Pope,” Ceresta coincided with a nod.

Rakna was left mind blown.

“Then, the girl over there with the horns is Alcina Kazakiri Dōren,” Fiora pointed at the last one of the three. “She is the Eighth Ranked Host, Master of the Night Parade, and Matriarch of the Yōkai Clan. As you can see, she’s an Oni.”

Before Rakna could even recover from the shock, another member appeared and while everyone did not react much, the therian nearly fell over. ‘What the… that’s just a Gundam,’ he uttered in his head as he was faced with the hulking figure of a humanoid robot, with fully rigged facial features that behaved just like a normal human. ‘No, a Transformer… no, both.’

“That is Orion,” Fiora nodded. “He is the 19th Ranked Host. And alongside Lanata and yourself, he has the title of Machine Emperor.”

“…I give up,” Rakna muttered blankly.

On cue, a 26th participant, aside from the extra guests from Rakna’s side, appeared and the friendly smile of Azheim greeted everyone. His entrance was enough for even Kryas to wake up, so it was without saying that they all gave him his attention.

“Good morning,” he greeted with an arm over his chest, his palm near his shoulder as a respectful gesture. “It’s about time we start this meeting. Shall we get to it?” He inquired readily, neither too playful nor solemn.

Though, before anyone could give their answer, a last-minute entry was perceived and two people ran in, a man and a woman. “Safe!” The former cheered with a grin while the latter rolled her eyes, only the corner of her lips twitching upward ever so slightly.

This new pair struck quite the picture. Both could be considered extremely attractive and also had opposite outward impressions.

The young man had spiky black hair tamed enough that it could be combed to behind his ears and incidentally highlight the scar that started from above his left eye and continued to the side of his head, tracing a white line through his hair.

His brown eyes were brilliant and charming due to his youthful qualities, which made him appear quite welcoming and kind. His clothes were casual in every sense of the word, virtually the same as any random young adult you could find walking on the streets.

As for his physique, nothing needed to be said. He was lean, but the muscles that could be gleaned from his arms and his overall size indicated a body sculpted to fight.

At his side, the woman had divine beauty and held herself haughtily, though obviously mellowed a lot whenever she was close to her companion. She had wavy ash-blonde hair and a pair of steel-like eyes, with hypnotizing pupils that perpetually glowed white.

Her figure was voluptuous enough to catch the eye and was hugged by a black buttoned shirt with see-through sleeves and flared pants. She seemed to be sharing the casual elegance of the man at her side.

“Haha, sorry, everyone. I’m a bit late,” the young man waved at everyone gathered.

“It’s fine…” Azheim shook his head. “We were just about to start.”

“Ah, thanks,” he sighed in relief. “It just took a while to convince Kamiria to come,” he added with a wry smile and the girl next to him harrumphed.

“I have no interest in whatever topics this rabble fusses over,” she huffed.

“Come on, we might need your help,” the young man pleaded. “I’ll make it up to you.”

Kamiria stared at him from the corner of her eye. Her cheeks reddened and she clicked her tongue before looking away. “Fine. I’ll lend my aid,” she blurted out and he smiled softly.

Meanwhile, Rakna had the blankest expression in Existence as he watched the two. ‘This guy just screams ‘Hero’ and he’s got a tsundere with him… What do I do? I just found the main character.’