The Vastness of Magical Destiny

Floup’s demeanor remained gentle, but impatience had begun to show in his tone. In his view, Ramla’s mind was undoubtedly too stubborn and rigid, even to the point of paranoia. No matter what, Komer was still a scion of the Reese family, and even if his lineage wasn’t the most noble, the situation had now reached a point where even Cartin had formally recognized and ordained him as the new Lord of Homer. He held in his hands the formidable forces of the Barbarians and the Half-Beast Warriors. Even Homer’s Army, when combined with the Church of Light and the Royal Court Magicians, had been utterly routed before him. Who now could stop his advance? In Floup’s opinion, failing to recognize the currents of the times under these circumstances was far too rigid. He saw Ramla’s attitude as a kind of affectation, an almost pathological affectation. If it were not for Komer’s special blood connection with Mr. Ramla, Floup would not have bothered spending so much effort coming here to have this useless debate.

"Do we in Homer acknowledge Cartin’s side?" Ramla asked coldly, "Princess Katya has yet to receive formal recognition, and it’s still undecided who between her and His Highness Prince Hoffman will inherit the throne of the kingdom. Her meddling in Homer’s affairs now is presumptuous!"

Floup felt stifled by frustration. Ramla was really nitpicking. He knew that the kingdom’s control over the various lords’ territories was nearly non-existent right now, and Cartin’s edict was merely a fig leaf, but he insisted on taking it seriously. Did he really think Komer would obediently retreat back to the Caucasus without Cartin or Godeburg’s confirmation? Absurd!

"Mr. Ramla, are you saying that you would only acknowledge the transfer of Homer’s lordship if there was an official mandate from Godeburg?" Floup asked patiently.

"No, I hardly acknowledge it. I will only ever acknowledge Duke Philip’s lordship over Homer," Ramla responded resolutely.

Floup finally stood up, remarking with some regret, "Mr. Ramla, I deeply admire your unwavering loyalty, but the course of events will not change simply due to your stance. We must learn to adapt to the changing tides. I respect your decision. Mr. Warrensky, Mr. Sherman, gentlemen, I think there is no need to waste more time here. Let’s go about our decisions."

The group finally left the Reese family mansion. Ramla, looking fatigued, supported his forehead with his hand and slumped into the brocade chair. The bright sunshine poured into the forecourt, making the intricate patterns of the Sons Carpet on the ground starkly visible, down to the subtlest details of each stitch—a symbol of Ramla’s own complex emotions at this moment. Komer had returned, and in such a manner; Conan had returned too but had been ignominiously defeated by the Barbarians under his brother’s command—a perfect irony!

His own favored legitimate son Conan was now reduced to a beggar, while the detested Komer he wished to sever ties with had become the new Lord of Homer, and even he would become his subject—how ludicrous and absurd! Yet it was a fact!