"Looks like the New Magic Council's new chairman knows when to be sensible..." The afternoon had flown by as Achill and Lahar drank to their hearts' content, and dusk had already begun to fall. After saying goodbye to Lahar and leaving the restaurant, Achill walked along the brightly lit streets. Recalling the news Lahar had brought him, he smiled in relief. He looked up at the star-studded night sky and murmured to himself, "That works for me. Since those fellows know better, I won't have to waste any extra magic power on them. As for Gerard, let him spend a few years in prison. It'll give his influence on the outside world some time to fade. After all, those 'grand achievements' of his really were a little too horrifying..."
The Magic Council's low-key handling of Gerard's case had truly lifted a weight from his heart. They had acted out of fear of the pressure he had deliberately put on them, but when Lahar confirmed that Gerard had really received nothing more than a token sentence of a few years, Achill still couldn't help letting out a deep sigh of relief. This was the best outcome. If possible, he really didn't want to make enemies of those troublesome people at the Magic Council, especially now that he knew two of his closest friends from years ago were working there.
Of course, when announcing Gerard's sentence to the public, the members of the New Magic Council weren't stupid enough to openly admit that they had compromised because they feared the True God of Death would kill them outright if they refused, and that threats to their lives had left them no choice. Though even admitting it probably wouldn't have mattered much. After all, Achill's title of True God of Death was no