Back in the capital, Ismail was at a loss too.
The Damboro King, whom he had always thought too timid and dim-witted to do anything but follow the rules, had suddenly found his moment. He was determined to use the Moon Clan to wipe out the traditional nobles who opposed him.
And the king had put his case with particular conviction: what king didn't want to hold power in his own hands?
What king wanted to be stopped every time he tried to do something?
Back when he married his queen, he'd had to choose from a limited pool just to avoid being controlled. He hadn't even dared approach the women he found truly beautiful. Wasn't that a tragedy for a king?
Grand Sage Ismael had always championed love. Shouldn't he sympathize with the king's helplessness?
This was his one chance to reclaim royal power. Grand Sage Ismael had watched him grow up and had supported his father back then. Why couldn't he support him now?
For a moment, Ismail was speechless, unsure how to answer. It wasn't until he returned to his Mage Tower that it hit him: the brat was talking out of his ass!
Just because the king fancied a woman, did that mean she'd marry him?
Dream on!
What did he have going for him—his ugly face or his short stature?
Ismail had supported the previous king because that man could do everything himself. He had only needed protection against assassination!
Whether commanding armies or matching wits with the great nobles, the man had handled it himself!
All Ismail had needed to do was smile, watch, and keep him safe!
But this one had accomplished nothing. Did he expect Ismail to run the country for him too?
If Ismail had wanted to do all that work,