Chapter 128: The Seven Heads

Hours later, the scene was filled with lots of agents and guild members. Arlo stood right where he was when it all began, looking at the clear sky, his face blank.

"Truly... it’s not really about the tier of the summon; it’s the power of their innate skill that determines their threat," he whispered.

"I can’t believe their headmaster did that," Ren said.

"He also restored Ivy’s summon," Arlo replied, gazing at the black-haired Pendragon caressing her huge, black-scaled beast.

"We survived a red gate," Snow whispered to himself, his eyes turning to Isolde, who spoke to some agents.

"Godfrey didn’t show up." He frowned. "What does it matter? He’d still outshine me."

He felt a touch on his back and turned to his butterfly, which gently patted him with its broad left wing that fell over him like a loose canopy.

"I’m fine," Snow said.

As he looked at the company of Damien, Jon, and the others, he suddenly remembered how he treated Godfrey.

So this was how it felt to be on the weaker end. The despair he felt at the sight of the dungeon boss made him realize how small the school’s maintained space truly was.

What king? If others were to know their place, didn’t that mean his place in the real world was just a slightly strong teenager with great looks?

If the weak shouldn’t be considered, did that mean the dungeon boss could kill him without a care? He couldn’t even beg for his own life?

Maybe if he was strong like Isolde, he would never have seen this part of life, but Snow somehow preferred that it came to this. He finally had that look into himself few were able to, and it was a nasty sight.

A slightly bigger ant kicking other, smaller ants down, without knowing the reason he was alive was because humans, the true giants, hadn’t stepped on him yet.

"Who’s that with Isolde?" Snow heard Ren’s voice, and something made him look. It was Godfrey speaking with Isolde.

"He’s part of Manhattan’s top ten, but he chose not to fight for some personal reasons," Percival replied while sitting. His summon had acted like a wall around the others during the fight and he had never been so close to revealing his second summon in public.

"Wow! Looks like there’s something between him and the Pendragon girl," Ren commented, while Arlo watched quietly, his hands in his pockets.

"Tsk! He hid in his room because he’s a humanoid summoner," Vin, about thirty feet away, scowled.

Seeing the glances directed toward him, Godfrey glanced at Vin from the corner of his eye.

Vin frowned, clenching his fist, but his heart kept beating hard. Was he scared? He couldn’t believe it, but his body was more honest than his stubborn mind.

"Are you seriously provoking him?" Rick whispered to Vin, who smacked his mouth angrily.

Arlo raised an eyebrow. "We might have been lucky that one chose not to participate."

His statement made Ren slightly stunned.

"What do you mean?"

"Everyone looked. I bet they already felt it would be him. Isolde looks different around him, the reactions of the other top ten, even Damien, I’m afraid it screams top royalty. That’s Manhattan’s true king."

Arlo smiled a little.

"He doesn’t look like a senior," Ren said with a slight frown. "And he’s a humanoid summoner for that matter."

***

In a secluded space, a grand office with a round table at its heart and screens of almost every part of the world close to the walls, sat The Seven Heads – responsible for matters concerning summoners and dungeons. Their status placed them above presidents of nations.

The lights went out suddenly, and everything went dark. White pixels formed a seven-foot-tall stag not far from the table, and all seven individuals gazed at it.

"I’m here to introduce to you the source of a new era for humanity. The Primal Heart Stag, currently the summon of one of the most unique healers in the western region."

Mr. Manhattan, a man with a sharp-featured face, white hair, and a full beard with a matching mustache, stood there. He had a large build, slightly pressing against his white suit.

"So it evolved. Excellent," Mrs. Fukushima, a Japanese woman with a scar from her lip to her right ear, said with a soft smile. Her ink-black hair fell onto her high-collared jacket with fancy silver buttons. "We planned to take the heart of that summon because it can bring anyone back to life, even if it’s just their ash. But it’s just one person. What has changed now that it evolved?"

Others stared at Mr. Manhattan, waiting for his response.

"As you stated, the summon has evolved, and after some tests, we have discovered the future of humanity is in this single summon. As a Primal Heart Stag, its heart has the capacity to function even outside the body of the stag. The blood it produces after being removed will possess the capability to bring anyone or anything living back to life, even if you don’t have the remains. All you need is the most cherished item of the deceased."

Everyone looked at one another.

"Are you certain of this?" Mr. Moscow, a man with a hat, a coat hung over his shoulders, and a smoke pipe, asked, slowly lowering his hat.

Mr. Manhattan rose to his feet, standing nearly eight feet tall. "This discovery has unlocked a perfect lifespan for humanity. Everyone just needs to have a cherished item, it could be anything, and once kept in a safe place, even if they’re burned to cinders, they can be brought back to life. And those already dead but with corpses or remains can also be brought back."

"This is an insane innate skill, and all it would cost is just the death of one summon," Mrs. Fukushima stated.

"It will cause chaos. The hierarchy will become even more stark. We have not dealt with Cain’s Fanatics, who we know are causing these dungeon spikes, nor have we faced those Vagabonds that disconnect themselves from the rules of society, acting like outlaws," Mr. Cario, a deep, brown-skinned man in his late fifties, spoke loudly.

He had a bald head, white eyebrows, white beards, and a thick, long mustache curved like a bow. Golden rings decorated his fingers along with bracelets around his wrists, yet he wore a fur coat, a vest over his white shirt, and his tie tucked into the vest. His palms rested on the handle of his silver cane.

"We speak about the ability that will put an end to sudden death. People’s daughters dying young, children becoming orphans because their parents went into dungeons. This will allow people to keep living until they die in old age. No fear of dying young, or dying suddenly," Mr. Manhattan said.

"Wouldn’t you like that for your dead wife? That staff is hers. Bring it, and you will see your wife, lost in the red gate fifteen years ago, return. To you, to her much older kids."

Mr. Manhattan’s words made Mr. Cario’s hands tremble.

"All that will be lost is just the summon?" Mrs. Athens entwined her fingers.

"We planned on giving Valentina Daniels a place among this table, but the loss of her summon might kill her too. It’s a great sacrifice, so we shall resurrect her husband to take care of her son," Mr. Manhattan said.

"You think the boy won’t feel resentment toward the authorities after taking his mom? A woman he has memories with his whole life in exchange for a man he didn’t even see?" Mrs. Athens asked skeptically.

"He won’t know. It will be disguised as a Fanatic attack, and we’ll have a fairly powerful humanoid summoner who will hate Fanatics all his life, which will benefit our new society, where everyone can live to their full potential and talents won’t be lost in dungeons."

After hearing that, Mr. London spoke up. "Let’s vote then. All palms on the table..."

He pressed his right palm on the table along with the other six.

"Those in favor..."

One hand rose, another followed, until eventually, all seven palms were up.