Chapter 78: High Conference

Standing before a large glass vial connected to many smaller vials, Lumière watched as Cartwell Heffen pulled an assortment of tubes from his briefcase, filled with various alchemical ingredients.

"King's yellow… tin salt, and fragments of Lead ore…'

"Lead ore?" Lumière questioned worryingly. 

"Don't worry." Cartwell chuckled. "If it kills you, it wasn't my fault. Being an alchemist comes with the innate knowledge of alchemy's inner workings, along with the chemicals, metals, salts, and minerals that are often used. I know their makeup, their effects, reactions with other ingredients, and even the lethal doses they pose to common animals and humans. For instance, if you were to ask me to make something that would take a bear out of commission, I wouldn't ask for various details pertaining to the bear."

"Then what would you ask?" Lumière spoke curiously.

He replied, humoured, "I would just ask if you wanted to kill it or put it to sleep. That would be enough for me."

Lumière sighed, smiling. "Alright, I'll trust in your expertise. I don't have much of a choice anyway."

"A sure sign of your trust." 

The two laughed over the fact, and Cartwell began to mix the ingredients together.

After a time, he presented Lumière with a swirling silver concoction, mixed with flecks of writhing black. 

'Would it be wrong to ask One of Spades to pay for this? After all, he's the vessel for a powerful entity… would I be killed if I were to offend him by asking such a thing? Still… these materials aren't cheap… nothing in the magical world is.'

Lumière held the philter in his hands, his gaze trembling.

'One thing is certain, White. Your trick involving my mother went too far. I know this is a part of the game, but still… now, that weakness of mine is gone. There's nothing you can hold over me now that matters. I'll complete your goals, rid you of your fortune, and then kill you.'

"How much will this be, Mr. Lysander?"

Cartwell's eyes widened. 'So he really didn't forget about the cost. Perhaps One 0f Spades is much kinder a man than I first thought.'

"The materials themselves cost around ten Len per, but you really shouldn't worry about-" Before Cartwell could finish, Lumière had already placed the necessary funds in his hands, closing his fingers around them. He smiled.

"Thank you for your services, Mr. Lysander. They're much appreciated." His hands held by Lumière's, Cartwell blushed slightly. 

'No, this man is definitely as dangerous as I thought. His charm is too alluring. I should kill myself for feeling like this for a man. How cruel. How could anybody bear to hate him when he acts like this?' Cartwell sighed internally.

"What will you do now, Mr. Lysander?" Lumière asked of the man.

Cartwell tilted his head, sighing. "My Lady insists on staying for the entirety of the High Conference, even though it isn't mandatory. So, after this meeting, I'll return. Thankfully, there was a recess a bit earlier, so we both came along to the House of Cards for a drink. It's quite lucky we were able to meet you here in such a situation."

'The High Conference? That's what White was talking about… so Cartwell Heffen really is the servant of that woman, Zelia Chatelaine. How interesting. I wonder if they know the Genius Blade, Artis Faulkner. Perhaps they even know White himself. Aren't all Nobles acquainted, or at least have some knowledge pertaining to each other? I wonder if this man would tell me more about White if I asked him to. Well, that can always be saved for a later date.'

"I wish you the best of luck with your endeavors." Lumière bowed to the man.

Before they exited the private room, Cartwell offered him a word of warning. "Your name has been circling the smaller gatherings of Lesser Nobles. I have no idea what it could pertain to. I just thought I should warn you."

Lumière's eyes widened, looking at the man before him. 'My name has been uttered in Noble circles? For what purpose? Could this have something to do with White's plot? How strange.'

"If you hear anything else, please inform me." Lumière smiled genially, bidding his farewells. Cartwell nodded in return, and they both exited the private room. Lumière watched for a bit as Cartwell rejoined his mistress, Zelia Chatelaine, and then left the House of Cards. Of note, the Joker was still missing from his seat at the back of the hall, and those gathered within the hall still showed a hint of malice towards Lumière as he passed them by.

Then, returning home on foot, as habit, despite the money he had obtained in excess, he quickly adjourned to his room in the monastery. He sat down at the edge of his bed, retrieving the philter from his pocket, eyeing the swirling colours within. 

'For a few days, I'll have to abandon my judgment. This only pertains to 'Lumière Croft', right? I don't have any 'finished' personae apart from Lain, so I can't just swap to another for the time being while my main personality recovers… what if I didn't have to entirely switch? If I could be part-Lumière and part-Lain, I could definitely keep myself intact, but that would rely on Lain's judgment, which is definitely not the best…'

'Still, it's an urgent matter. I have to try anyway. Good luck, Lain.' Without any more hesitation, Lumière uncorked the philter, throwing back the contents into his mouth. It tasted of bitter metal, and burned slightly as it slid down his throat. It had a slimy consistency, like thick liquid fire. He coughed and sputtered, a slight amount dripping down his chin.

Then, everything went dark.

=== In Lindgram's First Inner Stratum, within the council chamber of the Emperor's towering marble palace. ===

"The Emperor is absent today, isn't he?" Zelia noted towards Cartwell, surprised. The Emperor, Cassander Barron II, rarely made public appearances. However, during the High Conference each year, he was sure to make an appearance each day. It had become a habit of his. To see him missing was an oddity.

"Still, the Consulate is here. Consul Dexter, Rravious Tormoul and Consul Laevus, Gallian Argyle remain. As the mouthpieces of the Emperor, despite their differing ideologies, they can speak for him."

"Perhaps. But there are four-hundred members of the Centurian Assembly, and six-hundred members of the Senate here, as well hundreds of Noblemen and Women. Even the Specialty Agencies- the Trade Commission, Censor Commission, Environmental Commission, and Judicial Caucus are here. Can they alone speak to all of them?" Zelia replied, unconvinced. 

Cartwell put a finger to his lips, signaling Zelia to remain silent. The processions were about to start. 

They sat within a large half-circular arena-like structure, with thousands of stacked seating arrangements overlooking a large stone platform in the center, suspended high above the seats. Due to the angular arrangements, the two figures standing on the stone platform could be seen, even at the lowest point of the chamber. This was the Conference Hall within the Emperor's marble palace, reserved for the High Conference alone.

Two figures stepped forth, wearing emerald and red robes to differentiate each other. They both had grey hair tied back behind their heads, and beards that stretched down to their abdomens. Despite their age, it was clear that the two of them were might, powerful figures.

"As you're all aware, we've been trying to retake the winter-strewn North from that Queen of Nightmares who commands ghouls, using the Emerald Isthmus as our station-point to launch our attacks," the Consul Laevus began to declare, "but still, we've not managed to find a grasp in the North. That has changed as of last week."

The Consul Dexter nodded his head in agreement. "The North will be taken soon. Then, we'll be able to secure our trade routes between that forsaken city and our city of Deepslate. It is the will of our Emperor, our holiness."

Chatter began to erupt through the crowd of thousands. In the North of the western continent, a large stretch of sea separated the snowy north from the rest of the continent. It had long been overtaken by humans who couldn't bear to die, living off of the renewment of their rotting flesh- ghouls. To take such a place only meant that the Empire was looking to claim some cache of resources in that land, worth enough to sacrifice thousands of lives in a war against the immortal.

"We go where we shouldn't…" Cartwell muttered.

Zelia looked towards Cartwell, curious.

"Strange things may happen soon, my Lady. The magical world may begin to grow restless." Cartwell's eyes furrowed.