"When the treaty ends," Belle continued, "the demons will move first."
There was no doubt in her tone. No speculation. Just certainty.
"They have spent these years consolidating. Expanding quietly. Building weapons we haven't seen yet. Training soldiers who were children when the war ended and grew up hearing only one story: that humanity stole victory from them."
A murmur rolled through the crowd despite their discipline.
She let it pass.
"The elves will follow," she added. "Not immediately. They will wait. They will measure. But they won't stay neutral if the balance tips. They never do."
Several diplomatic envoys looked grim. They knew the truth of that better than anyone. The elves were not cruel, but they were ruthlessly pragmatic. They sided with survival, not sentiment.
"We will face a war," Belle said simply. "Not a border skirmish. Not a contained conflict. A war that will decide whether humanity remains a power… or becomes a memory."
