NOVEL WEB Chapter 195- Meeting
"Tell her to come after she wakes up," Avendial said as he exited the jet through the air stairs, his feet landing on the spot instructed by the pilot and air hostess before settling his gaze on a row of cars waiting for him just a few meters away.
Due to overwhelming her own body, Rivia had fallen asleep, which was expected considering he himself had to take a nap of 3 to 4 hours in the middle. Yet she, on the other hand, under the effect of Synergy's neutralization, was thrown into a deep sleep, considering her energy core had just expanded, or at least was in the process of expanding.
"This way, sir," a chauffeur said as he exited a Rolls Royce flanked by several Range Rovers with bodyguards in them. As suited men stood on the four sides of the car, dreading him, Avendial, dropping his suit jacket, made his way directly towards the car and entered.
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The big hall in the Croceaus territory, which belongs to one of the Institutes, really shows off the architectural skills of the area. It's got these cool modern lines mixed with a touch of classic style, almost like the building wants to show off how you can have both progress and tradition together.
The sunlight filtered through the enormous glass dome overhead, casting intricate patterns on the polished floors.
Rows of metal seats stretched across the vast expanse, organized in meticulous symmetry, while a raised platform at the far end of the room loomed over the gathering like a watchful sentinel.
One by one, figures in tailored suits, lab coats, and meticulously pressed uniforms entered the hall.
They moved with purpose, their sharp eyes and furrowed brows betraying the weight of their thoughts. Conversations buzzed in low tones, creating an atmosphere of quiet urgency.
"Marquess," a middle-aged man with salt-and-pepper hair muttered, glancing at the holographic tablet in his hands as he walked. "I can't fathom what he's planning this time. Calling all of us—researchers, engineers, even economists? This has to be something serious."
Beside him, a woman with striking blue eyes adjusted her thin-framed glasses. "Serious enough to disrupt our schedules, certainly. Do you know the last time the Marquess called for a gathering like this? Three years ago, when the magnetic energy project was launched. And now—"
"Now it's something entirely different," interrupted a younger man who had been trailing behind them.
He flipped through a report displayed on his wrist device. "According to the recent orders, he's pushing for manufacturing swords and spears. It's archaic! What on Earth is he thinking?"
"Swords and spears?" The older man raised an eyebrow. "That makes no sense. If he's preparing for something, surely guns would be more effective. Why revert to melee weaponry?"
"That's just it," the younger man continued, his voice laced with skepticism. "He has ordered firearms too, but the quantity is ridiculously low compared to the melee weapons. It's as though…"
"As though he's testing something," the woman finished, her tone measured. "Perhaps combat tactics? Or, considering the Marquess's reputation, something less conventional?"
The trio found their seats as the hall began to fill, their conversation blending into the hum of similar discussions around them.
A tall man in a butler's uniform stepped onto the platform, his every movement precise and deliberate.
He surveyed the gathering with a calm yet commanding presence, his hands clasped behind his back.
"Ladies and gentlemen," he began, his deep voice resonating through the hall. "On behalf of the Marquess, I welcome you. Today, we stand on the brink of a pivotal moment for Croceaus. I ask for your patience and discretion as we await his arrival. All will be explained in due course."
With a slight bow, the butler stepped aside, leaving the room to descend into a tense silence.
"Should we greet Mr. Alfred or—" One of the young ones was just about to propose the word to the man beside him about greeting Alfred, the butler who had just welcomed them, but suddenly halted due to the door of the hall bursting open, revealing a man clad in a suit followed by two others entering as his steps were steady but fast as he arrived near the podium.
The room froze as the figure approached the podium, his polished shoes clicking against the marble floor, echoing across the vast hall. His suit, tailored to perfection, carried an air of authority, and his sharp features reflected determination.
The attendees instinctively rose from their seats, a mix of respect and apprehension evident on their faces.
"Gentlemen," the Marquess began, his voice firm and commanding. "The reason I've called you here today is of utmost urgency."
His gaze swept over the room, pinning each individual with the weight of his presence. "As of this moment, all ongoing projects—regardless of their priority—are to be halted. The resources, personnel, and focus of this institute will be redirected towards a singular objective."
A murmur rippled through the crowd, a wave of confusion and unease. Several attendees exchanged glances, their expressions betraying shock.
One man, braver or perhaps more incredulous than the rest, raised his hand to speak. "Marquess Croceaus, may I ask—" Experience more on empire
"Silence," Avendial interrupted sharply, his tone brooking no argument. "I did not summon you here to question my orders. Your task is to execute them."
"!?!"
The room fell silent, the authority in his words undeniable. Avendial continued, his tone steady but laced with urgency. "What I am about to tell you may sound absurd, fantastical even. But mark my words—it is the truth. This world, as we know it, is on the brink of destruction."
The declaration hung in the air like a thunderclap.
Disbelief was etched onto the faces of the gathered professionals, but none dared to speak out.
"I do not ask you to trust me," Avendial said, his voice softening just enough to be persuasive, "but I demand your compliance. Each of you will receive specific tasks. Scientists will receive handwritten documents from me detailing compositions, formulas, and technologies—things I recall but cannot fully comprehend. Your job is to research and actualize these concepts."
He stepped closer to the edge of the platform, his piercing gaze drilling into the crowd. "Failure to comply will result in immediate expulsion from this territory. And let me remind you, expulsion is not just a loss of residence—it is a loss of safety, of stability, of hope for your families' futures."
The weight of his words crushed the remnants of dissent.
The gathered professionals, some skeptical and others frightened, exchanged uneasy glances. Yet, the stakes were clear—defiance was not an option.
"To further ensure focus," Avendial continued, "this territory is now under complete isolation. No information will leave our walls until the tasks at hand are completed. The internet, communication channels, and all external networks are now restricted. You are confined here, and so is your work."
The murmurs grew louder, but Avendial raised a hand, silencing the room once more. "This is not a negotiation. It is a directive. Your survival—and the survival of our civilization—depends on your ability to adapt and deliver. Dismissed."
The attendees remained rooted in place, processing the monumental shift in their lives, until the butler stepped forward once again. "Ladies and gentlemen, the Marquess has spoken. Please return to your departments and await further instructions."
The crowd dispersed slowly, conversations hushed and anxious.
'Now the issue is the next presidential candidates,' Avendial thought about the last thing he needed to do, which was to make sure that the precedence of other countries, including his own, would be in his favor so that when the time came, it wouldn't take him long to persuade them to use nuclear weapons.
"Alfred," Avendial called out, glancing at Alfred, who seemed to be in a dilemma. Though he was maintaining his professionalism, he was taken aback by Avendial's directive, considering how confident he had appeared while declaring the world's fate, which, in itself, seemed to put him on edge.
"Yes, my lord," Alfred composed himself and inquired, giving a bow as he looked toward a windy aisle, focusing on his order with seriousness, understanding that these matters were of utmost concern given the Marquess's approach to them.
"Have Margaret and Etrinia arrived yet?" Avendial asked about the arrival of Margaret and Etrinia, given that he had also told them to come here as he needed to meet with them to discuss what they needed to consider. Etrinia also needed to awaken her powers, which depended entirely on the method she would choose.
He certainly wanted to awaken her powers, but he himself was presently exhausted and fatigued, so the second method was really not feasible. The rest depended on her blood group; it totally relied on which blood groups she had.
"Yes, sir, she and Miss Etrinia are waiting in the palace," Alfred replied, informing him that both of them had arrived at the main palace three to four hours prior, while waiting for the arrival of the Marquess.