And just like that, it was already tomorrow. My head throbbed from the lingering fatigue.
«Answer. Of course. It is the side-effect of forceful reduction of 'Resistance.'»
A quiet, almost amused tone. I didn't respond aloud — sarcasm in this calm, composed manner was more than enough. No one could fault me for ignoring it; after all, it was a side effect of exercising authority.
The day's meeting was of utmost importance. The future relations between Eterna and the Holy Empire of Lubelius depended on this session. I had to ensure clarity and resolve, or the mistakes of the past could spiral into war.
The venue was the grand meeting hall — familiar, yet intimidating in its scale. I took my seat, keeping my posture straight despite the persistent headache. Every movement, every word mattered. I could not allow any weakness to show.
The reality of the situation was grave. Not only had the actions in the Kingdom of Farmus risked conflict with the Western Holy Church, but they also risked drawing the ire of the Holy Empire of Lubelius itself. The Pope had allowed the Templar Knights to mobilize — a dangerous precedent if left unchecked. But with the culprits already executed and the rogue knights eliminated, the immediate danger had passed.
Still, caution was essential. Political disputes were rarely settled with brute force alone. Diplomacy required patience, calculation, and an unshakable presence — all of which I intended to show today.
Representing Eterna, the delegation included myself, Shion, Rigurd, Benimaru, and the chiefs of the three governing branches — the judicial, legislative, and executive. Veldora was present as well, though his attention was elsewhere. There was no point in trying to engage him for the moment.
On the side of the Holy Empire of Lubelius, there was Luminas Valentine, Pope Louis, and Hinata, followed by the five captains of the Templar Knights. I allowed introductions to proceed formally:
Vice-Commander Renard, titled Childe of Light Arnaud of Air, considered the strongest knight after Hinata
Bacchus of Earth
Ritase of Water
Fritz of Wind
With introductions complete, the meeting began in earnest. I spoke first, my voice calm but carrying absolute authority. Every word echoed in the hall, ensuring there would be no misinterpretation.
"Let us begin by clarifying the circumstances of the recent events. No accusations, only facts. We verify to understand, not to inflame."
Hinata nodded respectfully, her eyes lowered slightly. "Yes, Atem-sama. I will ensure that my account is precise and accurate."
The testimonies proceeded as expected. The sequence of events was clear: the invasion of Farmus by the Fire Nation, the rogue elements exploiting the chaos, and our defensive response. I listened carefully, noting the nuances in tone and phrasing.
Hinata then addressed the Western Holy Church perspective. "Before Farmus even contacted us, the situation had escalated. Recognizing a monster kingdom would have conflicted with the doctrines of Luminism, which could have caused unrest among the faithful. Our concern was the stability of the Church. The existence of a monster-led kingdom could not be tolerated without explanation."
Her voice remained steady, respectful, and precise — unlike before, when misunderstanding had nearly escalated into hostility. She continued, "Under these circumstances, Archbishop Reyhiem at Farmus made a formal request. Nicolaus authorized it. At the time, I had no objection to the procedural aspect, though I could not forgive the individuals responsible for the incident."
Her eyes met mine, unwavering. "Atem-sama, I present this not to excuse our actions, but to provide full transparency. The Church and the Empire acted to preserve doctrine and order, though mistakes were made."
I inclined my head slightly. My voice carried a weight that required attention without raising it unnecessarily. "Understood. Transparency is valued above all. The past cannot be changed, but recognition of truth ensures stability in the present. I expect the Empire to fully understand the consequences of actions and the limits of its reach. Let this meeting serve as the foundation for lasting peace."
Hinata bowed deeply, her words deliberate. "Yes, Atem-sama. We will abide by your guidance and ensure no further conflict arises."
Louis nodded silently, his face unreadable but respectful. Even Luminas, who once carried herself with absolute pride, stood composed. Her eyes were fixed on me — no defiance, only acknowledgment of authority. She understood that Eterna's peace, and her own survival, rested upon my judgment.
The tension in the room dissolved gradually. The knights and captains understood implicitly: no one would act against Eterna while I commanded its protection. Yet respect, not fear, bound them — the true measure of authority.
I allowed a small pause before continuing, my gaze sweeping the room. "Let today mark the end of misunderstandings. Our nations will proceed with clarity, and any decisions will respect the balance of power, the safety of innocents, and the dignity of all parties involved."
Hinata's voice was firm, yet reverent. "Yes, Atem-sama. It shall be done."
Luminas inclined her head slightly. "I understand, Atem-sama. Your will is just."
And so, the meeting began with transparency, authority, and unbroken control. Every participant felt the weight of order, the certainty of justice, and the calm power of Atem — a presence that demanded truth without intimidation, respect without compromise.
Farmus, while trying to protect its national interest, had let greed fester until they aimed to eliminate us for profit. Hinata, too, wanted revenge for what had happened.
"Was it because of Shizu‑san?" someone asked.
"Yes. That's exactly it. I realize now I was manipulated as well. I still don't know who pulled the strings, but the eastern merchants had to be involved."
"Merchants…? That fits. There were merchants working with Demon Lord Clayman, too. And although Geld and his men are now under my command, they used to be fully armed and outfitted. I suspected they had foreign ties. It seems their trade partners were those eastern merchants."
A slow, thoughtful nod. The pieces began to line up in my head. I'd asked Shuna to comb through Clayman's ledgers; there were mountains of transaction records. The Eastern Empire produced many of the goods Dwargon used to export. They were doing business—there was no doubt about that—but the broker's name was curiously absent.
Shuna had worked meticulously and still came up short. Interrogations yielded nothing. Clayman—methodical and paranoid—had ordered his men to leave no trail. The Moderate Clown Troupe left no paper trail either; everything had been scrubbed.
Still, there were indirect routes to the truth. Clayman's castle was a trove: artworks, exotic magic items, weapons. Most of that equipment had origins in the Empire. Teleportation could move goods anywhere, but he had specifically imported Empire‑made arms and gear. That suggested a deliberate channel, not random purchases. It wasn't proof on its own, but it was a decisive clue.
The same logic applied to foodstuffs. The storage rooms held fruit, bread, dairy—supplies that could not be created locally on the scale present. Clayman's puppet nation of Jistav ran agriculture with forced labor, yet the produce in his stores didn't match Jistav's yields. Shuna's notes showed several items that must have been imported. That pointed again to the Eastern Empire as the likely partner. Milim's land was self‑sufficient; neither she nor ex‑Demon Lord Karion had funds or motive to import such quantities. Everything lined toward collusion with the Empire.
"That's right," Hinata said quietly. "They were the ones who spread the rumor that Shizue‑san was murdered by you. They said you were in Ingracia at the time. That's why I moved to confront you—because the merchants lied to us."
"Indeed," I said. The timing had been rotten; looking back, it still angered me. The way they used misinformation to push nations into conflict—what contempt it showed for lives and truth.
My words had weight. Hinata's posture stiffened. Beside her, Arnaud and the other knights tensed.
The room tightened as if the air itself held its breath.
Hinata's gaze remained intent, respectful, but sharpened by the new facts. "If the Eastern Empire's merchants were involved," she said to the assembly, "then we must bring this evidence forward. We cannot let trade and lies topple nations. We must find the broker and reveal the chain."
Pope Louis, who had listened in silence, inclined his head. His face was unreadable, but his voice carried the weight of the Church's interest. "If these merchants used trade to provoke war, Lubelius must answer for permits and oversight. The Church cannot stand for such corruption."
I nodded once. "We will present what Shuna has uncovered. But accusations must follow evidence. We will not start a war on suspicion alone. We will lay out the chain: shipments, origins, recipients. If the Empire or its merchants are shown to be complicit, political remedies will follow."
Hinata bowed slightly. "Yes, Atem‑sama. We will cooperate fully."
The knights murmured agreement. The mood shifted from shock to resolve. We had a lead—indirect, but firm enough to pursue methodically. It was not vengeance that I sought; it was correction. Trade lines and clandestine profiteers had almost set entire kingdoms ablaze. That could not stand.
"We'll begin a joint inquiry," I continued, my voice steady, commanding attention without need for force. "Shuna's findings will be cross‑checked with export records and the transport logs recovered from Clayman's base. Any intermediaries will be traced. If merchants abroad financed aggression, we will expose them and cut off their channels."
A calm, efficient plan now hung in the room. No grand speeches, no threats—just action, measured and inevitable. That was how Eterna moved: not with empty bluster, but with precise resolve that made others rethink their schemes.
Hinata lowered her head respectfully. "We place our trust in your judgment, Atem‑sama."
"Then let us begin," I said. The headache throbbed still, faint and distant, but the clarity of purpose eased it. The work ahead would be long, but it was necessary. We had no intention of igniting wars for profit. We would pull the threads one by one until the pattern revealed itself—and whoever had started it would find that Eterna did not forget.