Alongside Benimaru, Shion, and Diablo, I entered the conference chamber. The room was lined with marble columns engraved with hieroglyphs of light—Eterna's sigils of wisdom and dominion.
Myourmiles stood at attention near the table, visibly nervous. His hands trembled slightly as he adjusted the ledgers before him. Shuna, poised as ever, was in charge of welcoming our guests. The aroma of spiced tea and honeyed fruit filled the air as she prepared drinks for everyone.
"Lord Gazel sent word," Shuna reported smoothly, her tone calm despite the tension lingering in the room. "He's on his way."
The heavy double doors opened a heartbeat later. Gazel strode in, his golden armor gleaming faintly in the lamplight.
"Have I kept you waiting?" he asked.
I turned toward him, my gaze steady. "Not at all," I replied. "We just arrived."
Everyone took their seats around the circular obsidian table. The faint glow of Eterna's sigils shimmered along its edges, resonating faintly with my own power.
Gazel folded his arms. "Let's get straight to it. I sent word to my treasury this morning to gather all remaining gold coins available for trade. So far, we've secured about one thousand five hundred coins. It's not much, but that's the most I can extract without disrupting the Dwarven Kingdom's economy."
I nodded slowly. "You've done well. I understand the risk you're taking."
He inclined his head slightly, acknowledging the compliment. "They'll be carried here by pegasus. You should receive them by tomorrow evening."
"One thousand five hundred…" I murmured, tapping a finger against the table. The coins shimmered in my mind's eye like pieces on a grand board. "That's quite the weight to transport."
My voice deepened slightly. "I'll handle the transfer myself."
Gazel's eyes narrowed. "You intend to use that spell of yours—'Dimension Domination'?"
I gave a slight nod. "It's safer that way. No risk of interception."
"Fair enough," Gazel said with a sigh. "I'll notify my men to stand by. Now… will that be enough to pay your merchants?"
I turned toward Myourmiles, who swallowed nervously before answering. "We're still short, my lord."
I frowned slightly. "By how much?"
"By a few hundred coins," he replied. "The Founding Festival has… exceeded all expectations. The costs have become extraordinary."
Gazel leaned back, giving a low whistle. "Even for Eterna's treasury, that's quite the expense."
I folded my hands together, the golden rings on my fingers gleaming faintly. "The first celebration of a nation's foundation must set the standard for all that follow. Wealth is meaningless if it does not inspire loyalty."
"True enough," Gazel replied with a dry smile. "But you're making even me look reckless."
Shion chuckled softly. "That's because our Pharaoh doesn't plan events—he commands destinies."
Her tone was teasing, but there was truth behind it. The others smiled nervously.
Gazel sighed. "Still, even I can't believe you'd go this far. You always act like the entire world bends to your will."
"It does," I replied quietly.
The room fell silent for a brief, weighty moment before Gazel barked out a laugh. "You really mean it too."
Before I could respond, a soft, melodic voice cut through the air.
"In that case," it said, "why not allow me to contribute the remaining sum?"
Everyone turned. Standing at the doorway, illuminated by the golden light of the corridor, was Empress Elmesia of the Sorcerer's Dynasty Sarion. Her emerald gown shimmered with arcane runes, and her eyes gleamed with amused intelligence.
"Empress Elmesia," I said calmly, though a faint ripple of power hummed beneath my words. "To what do we owe the honor?"
She smiled gracefully, walking in without waiting for invitation. "Oh, please. Let's not pretend. I heard that Eterna's great festival was running short on funds. Naturally, I couldn't let such a thing tarnish your image."
Gazel's expression darkened the instant she stepped closer. His tone dropped. "Elmesia…"
She waved him off lightly. "Relax, Gazel-chan. I came here as a friend."
His jaw tightened. "Don't call me that."
Her eyes gleamed with mischief. "Still so uptight. You're just like your father—so serious all the time. Your grandfather was much more… entertaining."
Gazel exhaled sharply, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Let's skip the nostalgia. What do you really want?"
Elmesia's smile never wavered, but I could sense the calculation beneath it. "Nothing more than to strengthen the bond between Eterna and Sarion. Let me cover your shortage. Consider it… a gesture of friendship."
I leaned back slightly, fingers steepled. "Generous," I said. "But friendship sealed by debt is no friendship at all."
Her gaze flicked to mine—sharp, probing. "Are you rejecting me, Pharaoh Atem?"
"Not rejecting," I said with calm finality. "Refusing to be bound by unseen chains."
For a heartbeat, the two of us locked eyes. A quiet power crackled in the air, subtle but undeniable.
Even Diablo, who feared nothing, stiffened slightly.
Gazel broke the silence with a sigh. "You might as well accept it, Atem. Once she sets her mind on something, she won't stop until she gets her way. Dealing with her is worse than facing a dozen merchants with daggers at your throat."
Elmesia laughed softly. "You speak as though I'm a monster."
"You're worse," Gazel muttered.
Her laugh only deepened. "I'll take that as a compliment."
She turned to Shuna with an elegant smile. "Be a dear and pour me a drink, won't you?"
Shuna bowed respectfully and handed her a glass of fruit wine. Elmesia accepted it gracefully and sat down beside me without waiting for permission.
The Empress's presence filled the room like perfumed smoke—beautiful but suffocating. She took a slow sip of her drink before smiling once more.
"Well then, shall we discuss how my generosity can help this beautiful city of yours, Pharaoh Atem?"
Her words were sweet, but her tone—sharp as a blade hidden beneath silk.
Gazel and Elalude exchanged looks and released a weary sigh. The two shared a silent understanding—both proud, stubborn rulers in their own right—but in Elmesia's eyes, they were no different from mischievous children. Perhaps that's why she found them so similar.
As for me, even with my experience as Pharaoh of Eterna, I knew Elmesia's negotiation skills were something else entirely. Her words carried the elegance of a queen and the sharpness of a serpent's fang. That's why Gazel had told me earlier to simply let her win if she pressed too hard.
"Ara, this tastes good as well," Elmesia said, her lips curving in satisfaction as she took another sip.
"You are too kind," Shuna replied, bowing lightly.
The fruit wine she'd poured came from her private collection—flavors that shifted subtly with every sip, never the same twice. The fact that Elmesia enjoyed it brought a quiet relief to everyone in the room. Shuna's drinks were said to please the spirits themselves; if Elmesia disapproved, nothing finer could replace it.
Gazel cleared his throat, his tone firm. "All right, that's enough. Time is precious, and I don't have any to waste on your little hobbies."
Elmesia gave him a playful pout. "Always so uptight, Gazel-chan."
His temple twitched. "Don't call me that."
At last, she set her glass down and leaned forward, the teasing smile fading into something sharper. "Fine then. If you want my help, Pharaoh Atem, I'll set a simple condition."
I raised an eyebrow. "Name it."
"If you're going to host another grand celebration like this, I want an invitation," she said. Her voice was calm, but her words carried weight. "I won't forgive you for organizing something so magnificent behind my back."
Her tone was light, but the message beneath it was unmistakable—You dare hold such a wondrous event without me? Unforgivable.
Elalude rubbed his forehead and looked toward the ceiling. Gazel muttered something under his breath about troublesome women.
"I accept," I said without hesitation.
Elmesia blinked in surprise, then laughed softly. "Oh my. So decisive! I like that."
Her sudden shift from cunning ruler to cheerful empress was almost dizzying. Perhaps I had underestimated her. Still, there was a charm in her sincerity.
"Royalties are not slaves to their people," she said brightly. "If the rulers live with joy, their people will live with joy as well. When I'm happy, everyone's happy!"
Her words rang strange yet true. I smiled faintly. "That's quite the philosophy, but I find it agreeable. A ruler's will shapes the land. When I stand in the light, Eterna follows."
Elmesia grinned, clearly pleased. "Then it seems we understand each other, Pharaoh Atem. I look forward to many encounters in the future."
We clasped hands firmly, our smiles calm but our auras locking in silent contest. And in that instant, I knew—the Empress of Sarion would make a powerful ally, and an even more dangerous foe.
Thus, the "Bad Idea Trio" was born: myself, Elmesia, and Myourmiles. The air practically thickened with Gazel and Elalude's dread.
"This can only end badly," Gazel muttered.
"Definitely an omen," Elalude agreed with a sigh.
But we ignored them.
Elmesia reached into her robe and pulled out an ornate, rune-stitched wallet. Its surface shimmered with stored mana. "I only have a bit of pocket change—around one thousand gold coins. But if you need more, I can have additional funds sent."
I raised an eyebrow. "One thousand gold coins is pocket change?"
She chuckled. "When you live long enough, money tends to gather."
I allowed myself a small smirk. "Then ten stellars in exchange should do for now."
She tilted her head, impressed. "Quite casual about such sums, aren't you?"
"Gold and jewels come and go," I said with calm authority. "But influence is eternal."
That earned me an amused look. She began the exchange right there on the table. The coins clinked softly—a song of wealth and power.
Once this was done, all that remained was for the one thousand five hundred coins from Dwargon to arrive, and Eterna's financial troubles would be over. The tension that had been coiling in my chest finally began to ease.
Diablo stepped forward, a pleased glint in his crimson eyes. "This is excellent news, Pharaoh Atem," he said as he poured me tea. "The merchants who sought to humiliate you will now drown in their own failure."
He served cups to Gazel and Elmesia as well. I took a sip, savoring the warmth, as Benimaru gave a sharp grin.
"Someone tried to make you look weak in front of the world," he said. "But they didn't realize who they were dealing with."
"They will," I said quietly, my tone cutting through the room. "Soon."
The weight in my voice silenced even Gazel for a moment.
Elmesia watched me, intrigued. "You really are a fascinating one, Pharaoh. I can see why the world keeps whispering your name."
Then, as the tension started to ease, she suddenly said something that drew everyone's attention.
"But even if I hadn't helped, I imagine someone else would have."
I turned my gaze toward her. "What do you mean?"
She smiled faintly, swirling the wine in her glass. "In politics, there's a simple truth. If you want someone to obey you, don't threaten them—do them a favor. Gratitude binds more tightly than chains."
Her tone shifted, elegant but dangerous.
Diablo's eyes gleamed with understanding. "Ah… so you mean, someone might appear—uninvited—pretending to help us, in order to earn our trust?"
"Precisely," she said, lips curling. "But such a person wouldn't act of their own will. They'd be a puppet, working for someone else's benefit."
Diablo's grin widened. "Kufufufufu… a fascinating notion. Cause the problem, then swoop in as the savior to earn favor. Humans truly are cunning creatures."
Elmesia nodded. "Even if they can't offer real money, they could present a 'certificate of proof,' just enough to make you seem incapable while making themselves appear trustworthy. They would sell you their favor while humiliating you in the eyes of the other nations."
"How greedy," Diablo murmured. "A lesson in manipulation indeed."
I leaned back in my chair, my golden eyes narrowing. "So they plant the thorn, then offer to remove it for a price."
Elmesia smiled. "Exactly."
Benimaru crossed his arms, frowning. "I don't really get politics, but do you have any idea who's behind all this? Could it be someone from the Western Nations Council?"
Elmesia didn't take offense. Her smile only deepened. "I'm not sure. My dynasty isn't part of their council. But…"—her gaze drifted across the table—"…perhaps the young man over there knows something?"
All eyes turned toward Myourmiles, who nearly jumped in surprise.
"Eh? Me?" he stammered.
"Yes, you," Elmesia said smoothly. "You seem far too informed to be as innocent as you look."
Myourmiles hesitated, then took a deep breath. "I did hear some rumors," he admitted. "They say there's a secret sub-committee operating behind the scenes—a hidden group that controls all the Western Nations. Supposedly, they're made up of powerful nobles from the council itself. But…" He trailed off, shaking his head. "It's all hearsay. Conspiracy talk, mostly."
The room fell silent. Even the sound of the fire crackling in the brazier seemed distant.
A hidden group manipulating entire nations?
I tapped a finger against the table slowly, each movement deliberate.
"Rumor or not," I said finally, my voice steady but sharp, "if such a shadow exists… then they'll learn soon enough that I do not tolerate unseen hands meddling in my domain."
The temperature in the room seemed to drop a few degrees as divine energy flickered faintly from my aura.
Elmesia only smiled, her eyes gleaming. "Oh, I believe they'll learn, Pharaoh Atem. Sooner than they expect."
And thus, the pieces began to move. The gold was secured—but now, the true game had begun.