The girl, princess-like, covered her mouth with a light laugh, only for the words that followed to make the complexions of most fairies present shift uncomfortably.
"Besides, is it not just a gathering place for a bunch of craftsman fairies? Even if that place were destroyed, it wouldn’t matter much, would it? Rather, I would love to witness such a scene!"
Such words caused many fairy officials to lower their heads, attempting to hide their disdain for the young girl.
"That’s not something you can say, Elf Knight Tristan," Spurgen shrugged his shoulders and said, "The Earth Clan still wields significant influence in Britain, right? If Norwich were destroyed, the Earth Clan might be left with only a cat or two, and at that point, wouldn’t Britain’s operation face some problems?"
The young girl, who was an elf knight—Tristan—was clearly unconvinced by Spurgen’s statement.
"It’s only one clan, so what if it’s exterminated?" Tristan said with a sneer: "It’s not like Fairy Country has never seen a clan disappear before; another Earth Clan lost would just be a trivial issue for this Britain that has our lady mother."
The atmosphere within the Throne Hall plummeted, turning extremely sour.
While Spurgen fell silent at that moment, one of the remaining three magic projections let out a rough voice.
"Shut up, little girl."
If Reiger and Altoria were here, they would definitely recognize the owner of this rough voice.
Indeed, it was the clan chief of the Tusk Clan, Woodworth.
"We fairy clans are all swords in Her Majesty’s hands, not something a girl of unknown origins like you can criticize at will."
From the tone of these words, it was evident that Woodworth was in a very poor mood, and his attitude was far worse than usual.
"Old thing, you’re the one without the right to speak, aren’t you?" But Tristan retorted with annoyance: "You’re almost retired, yet you’re still always blabbering about swords and spears. Wasn’t it just the other day that you claimed to be a lord, a clan chief, no longer just a berserk warrior who charges to the front lines, and therefore, you should learn to act the gentleman?"
"How much time has passed since then, and you’re reverting to your true nature already?"
"Oh dear, a dog will always be a dog. Even as a clan chief, even as a noble, you’re still undignified."
Hearing these words, Woodworth’s voice turned even rougher.
"What did you say?" Woodworth growled angrily: "You insolent little girl! You—"
Before he could finish, someone suddenly spoke up, interrupting Woodworth.
The voice came from an elf knight kneeling on one knee beside Tristan.
Although also female, this elf knight was the polar opposite of the delicate-looking Tristan; not only was her physique extremely robust, but she was also clad in very thick and hard armor, with chains wrapped around various parts of her body. Even compared to Woodworth, the aura she emitted was not the least bit inferior.
Woodworth glared at the elf knight.
Elf Knight—Gawain did not respond to Woodworth’s roar, but instead shot him a cold glance.
"Tristan is Her Majesty’s daughter, and even if she speaks inappropriately, you as the Tusk Clan’s chief, a Hero who has protected the Fairy Country of Britain for a thousand years, should not stoop to her level," Gawain said in a detached but firm voice, "Even if you don’t think of yourself, you should think of me and the others who are also of the Tusk Clan. We wouldn’t want our collective reputation dragged down by the clan chief’s temper."
Upon hearing this, Woodworth had yet to voice his rebuttal when a beautiful and mature voice emerged from a magic projection beside him.
"Gawain is right, you know."
When this beautiful and mature voice sounded, Woodworth unexpectedly calmed down.
The name Woodworth called out belonged to a person who, like him, was also a clan chief of a fairy clan.
"Ah, dearest Woodworth, mighty Woodworth."
Aurora, the clan chief of the Wind Clan, addressed Woodworth with a very affectionate tone.
"I understand your feelings, but as Gawain has said, you’re no longer just a warrior, but a clan chief, and you must consider not only yourself but also your clan, right?"
This speech seemed to have successfully calmed down the hot-tempered Woodworth.
"You’re right, Aurora," Woodworth conceded seriously: "I’m no longer just the Tusk Clan’s warrior who can only fight on the front lines; I should display better understanding of etiquette."
"Heh." Tristan, hearing these words and about to offer a sarcastic retort, didn’t get the chance to do so.
Because the clan chief in the final magic projection finally spoke up.
"Can we please stop this endless bickering? I didn’t attend this meeting just to listen to you all argue!"
The tone of this voice indicated boredom rather than irritation.
"Unlike you, I have a lot on my plate every day, whether it’s investigating the latest trends and introducing them, or negotiating with shops and allocating business; all these require my personal involvement. Despite that, I’ve sacrificed my precious time to attend this meeting, okay? With that said, could you please discuss something useful?"
Mourine, the clan chief of the Wing Clan, bluntly expressed their thoughts in front of everyone, heedless of the fact that this was in the Queen’s presence.