290. Humanity Defense Treaty
“If that is the core of the issue,” Landon said, his voice strangely calm amidst the brewing storm, “then I believe I can offer a solution from my end.” He paused, the gravity of his next words visible in the way he squared his shoulders and met their stares. “I am willing to formally give up my claim to the throne.”
The air in the room seemed to vanish instantly. Even Ravenna, usually the master of her own expressions, felt a flicker of genuine surprise cross her features.
“By removing myself from the succession,” Landon continued, his eyes locked on his sisters and then on Eugene, “I am no longer your rival. I will be a neutral pillar for this alliance. If at least one of the primary heirs steps aside, perhaps we can finally focus on the monsters at our gates instead of the crown on our father’s head.”
“You would... willingly give up?” Eugene asked, his voice laced with confusion. In his experience, Imperials didn't just walk away from the ultimate prize.
“Of course, not without a certain advantage for me,” Landon clarified, his words immediately calming the nervous murmurs of his own faction and King Finel. “It is quite simple: I want a promise in writing. A promise that a Senate, representing the council of vassal states, will be established once any one of you takes the throne.”
He leaned back, his expression resolute. “If that is guaranteed, then there is no reason for me to continue my rebellion or attempt to seize the throne for myself.”
A heavy silence followed, which Serena was the first to break. “Woah... that is a bold play, Landon.” She scoffed, though her eyes remained sharp and calculating. “Currently, because of the dungeon spawns, your faction is at its weakest. You know your rebellion is likely to fail, so you’ve simply switched methods to get what you want through diplomacy, huh..”
“And what is wrong with that?” Landon countered smoothly. “As the Saintess said, we each have different goals but a common enemy. If at least one of my primary goals is guaranteed, I can act as a neutral party in this alliance without bias. It is a win-win for everyone.”
Serena remained silent, her mind racing. “A Senate might make the path too bureaucratic for my plans to transform the Ancorna Empire into a Magical Superpower,” she thought, her fingers tracing the rim of her wine glass. “But if I can negotiate the conditions beforehand with Landon and the Council, it might actually provide the stability I need to focus on research and expansion.”
Eugene was similarly lost in thought. “The only reason William and I partnered up was to put him on the throne so he could provide the resources to defeat the Cult. William has already mentioned restricting the Emperor’s absolute power after his ascension... this deal aligns perfectly with his vision.”
Ravenna’s fingers tapped a rhythmic, mechanical beat on the table. “The clock is ticking. I have exactly four years left to become the Empress and fulfill my contract with the Goddess Herptian. If the Senate is only instated after the coronation, it won't interfere with my immediate deadline.”
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She looked at the maps of her dukedom. ”It might be difficult to centralize the entire empire the way I did with Kim Dukedom: I was starting from scratch here. For a massive, established nation like Ancorna, taking Landon’s idea into consideration might be the most efficient way to maintain order while I focus on the industrial revolution.”
“I think I can agree to that,” Ravenna said, her voice cutting through the tension.
Serena raised her cup of wine in a mock salute. “I will want to see more detailed terms on how this Senate functions, but with enough negotiation... I think it will work.”
Eugene nodded firmly. “I agree as Prince William’s representative. I will have the Prince provide his agreement in writing the moment I return to his side.”
“Since my rivals seem to be in accord,” Landon said with a genuine, relieved smile, “I will formally hand in my claim to the throne and order my forces to retreat from the capital once we return to the mainland.”
The tension in the room didn't fully dissipate, but the sharpest edge of the conflict had been blunted. It was Alice who stepped forward next, her movements precise and full of a quiet confidence. She placed a large, professionally printed chart onto the table, the black ink stark against the white, high-quality paper.
“If the succession issue is sorted, then we must address the actual foundation of this treaty,” Alice said, adjusting her glasses. “Simply signing a piece of paper and promising to send troops won't be enough. The Cult of Absolution is a massive, unified organization that functions like a single, predatory organism. If we only coordinate on a case-by-case basis, they will slip through the cracks of our bureaucracy.”
“What you say is true, Mrs. Gatve,” Landon agreed, leaning in to study the chart.
Serena nodded slowly, her eyes tracking the lines on the diagram. “If we keep lending information and troops only when specifically requested, we’ll be bogged down in logistics and diplomatic procedures. Coordination will become a nightmare.”
“It’s a better idea to form a neutral organization,” King Finel chimed in, his voice booming with common sense. “One that operates on its own, outside the direct command of any single Imperial Sibling.”
Alice offered a small, knowing smirk and tapped the chart. “This is the proposed structure Her highness Ravenna has drafted. It’s designed for agility and transparency.”
“The original idea,” Ravenna added, pointing to the top tier of the diagram, “was to have a rotating chairmanship with equal voting rights for each faction. However, now that Landon is stepping down to remain neutral, it makes more sense for him to serve as the permanent Chairman. He would act as the mediator between the rest of us.”
Eugene studied the proposal, his brow furrowed in concentration. “I see. So, each faction would supply a set number of permanent members, soldiers, mages, and scholars to this organization. We would also maintain representatives on a council to discuss Cult-related intelligence in real-time.”
“And what about funding?” Serena asked, her practical mind immediately jumping to the cost. “A separate organization with its own standing force and administrative staff will need a massive, independent budget.”
“We can assign a strict contribution quota for each faction,” Landon suggested. He pulled a book toward him and began scratching out figures. “The contribution must be proportional to each faction’s spending capabilities and earnings. We need to ensure that no one can accuse another of using the alliance’s dues as a way to financially undermine their rivals.”
The leaders around the table nodded in grim agreement. It was a fair, if expensive, solution.
As the technical details were being debated, Marie raised her hand quietly. When the room turned to her, she asked the simplest question of all: “Then… what are we naming it?”
The room went quiet for a moment as they looked at the chart that would soon define the future of the continent.
Gracie, who had been watching the proceedings with a sharp, observant eye, spoke up. “I suggest the Humanity Defense Force.”