V3: Chapter 11:

…

The art of diplomacy.

This might shock you, but I don't know much beyond kissing ass, making threats, and having thick skin. I doubt that I'd have any more than a couple of dialogue options if I were a video game character. Party member with environment and cutscene-specific dialogue I am not. At most, I'll probably be a side-character for a quest, with mostly written dialogue and some generic voice lines lifted from other NPCs.

There's not much room for negotiating in a world where you can be replaced by someone else the moment you refuse.

However, in this world, the word of a ruler may as well be law. In fact, I looked over the powers that were vested in me, and that was pretty much the case. I had the right to levy and command armies, declare war, set policies for the city's direction, have people executed or punished, and generally have the resources and power generated by hundreds of thousands of people at my beck and call. Given the economic output and military ability of my nation, I had a lot of diplomatic clout to back me up, but that was a double-edged sword.

The more power I had, the less people were willing to compromise with me, and the more they wished to oppose me together. Every little mistake that I made would be turned into propaganda. Every success belittled because of what I had at my disposal. Those who didn't have what I have would like me less, or be outright looking to sweep the rug from beneath my feet to get what they wanted, and more. In a world where everyone was fighting to defeat everyone else and claim the legacy of the Ancients, being strong meant standing alone, while everyone else worked together.

Still, even with all the caveats that came with being strong, it was better than being weak.

Anyone who tells you differently is lying to you and is after your power or is coping so hard that they need to check their dosages before they disengage from reality altogether. Sure, having everyone be after your place on the top is annoying, but it's far better than trying to reach the top. At the very least, I didn't have to worry about my 'allies' backstabbing me, since I knew that everyone was out to get me in the first place.

…

In-game, the start of every Council of Kings gave you a readout of the relationships of all factions present and how your decisions and votes will affect your standing with the factions. This is to make sure that you have an informed choice. For example, the choices you'd have to choose between would be along the lines of: help the Dark Elves' campaign to spread skimpy silk dancer outfits all over the continent to increase happiness and population counts, or help the Orcs by reinforcing their front lines and lower the production rate of the crisis.

The council votes on the measure, if you vote for the losing side, they'll be happy with you. If you vote for the winning side, they'll be very happy with you, but the losing side will be very angry with you.

Needless to say, even with the devs doing their best to showcase information as clearly as possible, the Orcs were pissed off at everyone most of the time… and the Dark Elves were usually laughing their way to a cultural victory.

Anyhow, in real life, those fancy readouts weren't available and I couldn't just balance favorability by clicking a few choices.

I had to socialize, schmooze, feel out the other parties, and get an understanding of the situation on my own.

Thankfully, I have a lot of experience brown-nosing when I was literally stealing from corpses to live.

"Ah, Keeper Justina, well met." I greeted the Goblin with a smile. The steampunk Goblins with imperialist tendencies were a pain to deal with in any game, and it's the same here. Though the devs were usually horny bastards as usual, and the Goblin females looked like women painted green and just made shorter. Thankfully, while the feral male Goblin looked like horrendous monsters, the ones the normal ones were just normal, short dudes with a greenish tint, longer ears, and a bit longer nose. Anyhow, Justina had a nice, big purple hat and wore a formal, matching ballgown, even though she looked displeased with it and she glared at me when I approached her. "You look as displeased with the state of things as always."

"King of Wisdom." My title slipped out of her mouth like it was poison. I sipped my cider in my fluted glass and tilted it her way for a second. Yep, my estimates were correct. Having the most tech and artifacts made them hate me. Good. I'd like to see their city embedded into a mountain. That maximizes the research output of the mountain tail perfectly. "I have nothing to say to you and your flagrant destabilization of the realm."

With a huff, leader of the Goblins picked up the hem of her dress and walked away.

I didn't pursue, though Crusher came forward without a moment's hesitation, even though her guards were most certainly still keeping an eye on me.

"They carry themselves with pride and honor that they have not earned." Crusher was covered up in a mountain of fabric. As fantastic as it would be to see him covered up in a three piece suit, his people's formal wear was somewhere along the lines of eastern steppe culture. Vibrant robes lined with the furs of very dangerous beasts. "I thought them better than meat for their kindness towards my people, but it seems that they see us as prey to be separated from a pack."

"Oh, we're a pack? When did that happen?" I laughed beneath my breath, while Crusher aimed an irate look my way. He huffed when I didn't flinch and took a swig from a mug the size of my head. I cast a glance at the leader of his people. The Deliverer was covered from head to toe in fine textiles and furs, enough to make a tent or two, yet still he looked ready to burst out of it. The man was a mountain that dominated the whole room. His knees, while seated, were at my head height. Nearly two stories tall, easy. Practically, a giant. "I think you need to apologize to the honored Deliverer, Crusher."

That earned me another glare, but Crusher took the hint and left before anyone else took note of him standing by my side.

It wouldn't do to implicate the Conquerors with me at the moment.

The Scholars weren't pleased with me. The Guardians had little intention of letting me lead the Council of Kings. The Forgers, meanwhile, were staying neutral. Ergo, they weren't keen on making enemies or allies. Khalia and his people were already in my corner, so one more ally would effectively make the balance hilariously lopsided. It would be four Citadels against three, therefore the Conquerors couldn't be formally on my side.

So, on the surface, I had one with me, two against me, and two neutral. If you counted the fact that the Academy wasn't here, and the refusal of the Merchants to come, as two more factions who were against me… that was four against me, if all out war happened.

Mhmm, I could probably win and dominate all the Citadels with the Conquerors and the Wardens, but we'd win just to lose against the crises.

Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

Unlike the game, after all, there's no endscreen after you win that ends everything.

With that in mind, I finished my drink, nodded, and walked forward after nodding at Khalai.

The pleasantries were over, and now it was time to start talking to one another.

I only hoped that I could get all these guys to share food.

Or, if I couldn't, get food to the people who I knew could handle the unhappiness from the extra pops.

Thankfully, no one here could call me out for stealing speeches.

…

Interlude: Crusher.

…

The Deliverer was mighty in his throne and so were many others. I was at his side alongside my best, and we cast a tall shadow amongst equals. Our leader loomed like a mountain over all others, even his silence echoed across the room.

The Keeper of the Scholars of the Skies sat on a floating throne held aloft by magics long lost and her guardians were more metal than flesh. Her gaze was sharp, calculating, and reminded me of a huntress, despite her size and stature and attire. Despite the veil of nobility and pursuit of knowledge, she was here to prepare for a coming hunt.

The Forgers were resolute. They brought their leader on a throne of metal hammered and crafted to look like flowing sheets of silk and inlaid between those waves were innumerable stories and pictures of their people's tales and history. Each man, even their leader, was covered in arms and armor unmatched.

The Guardians were resurgent. Like a true people, they arose from the defeat stronger and without grudge. Their defeat strengthened them, and they stood with new weapons and armor and doctrines with their leader clad in clothes fit for a general, rather than a princess. Vigilant warriors of bone were covered in metal and they wielded strong weapons, while Blood Knights stood ready to kill all who threatened their liege.

My eyes neared the Wardens, who were both pious and depraved, but Jack made his move and a silence befell the room in an instant.

Not a hint of surprise was on his face as all gazes turned to him.

He stood with his usual smile, that always reached his gaze.

"Thank you all for coming." Careful, controlled, and practiced. He spoke into a room filled with stopped breaths, complete focus, and the gazes of dozens of trained killers. He only had one guard at his side in plain, steel armor with a sword at their waist… but he was without an ounce of fear. "As you all know, this was held for the sake of speaking for the coming famine. Unfortunately, I must tell you all that even if we all work together and do our utmost, at least a quarter million people will die."

The deaths of nearly a quarter million people uttered with a simple shake of the head.

"The only hope for those people was the empty seats present to arrive and contribute as much as they could spare. The Merchants and the Academy told us all that they would weather the storm of famine alone. They shall and countless peoples will suffer, as they use their gold and lands to feed themselves and only themselves." The Deliverer's hand moved to my right, just in the upper corner of my vision. He always used his mind and mouth before his body, in order to ensure his longevity. Days passed without him moving, keeping himself in his near-comatose state to live as long as he could for his people. Yet, with a few words, Jack made him turn a hand into a fist clenched with anger born from realization. "Yes. I am afraid that with their refusal to come and present a united front, we will not be confronting a mere famine. We shall be competing against them… and perhaps one another. The two wealthiest nations of the land, even with my advantages in play, shall have the run of the markets and the foods brought therein."

A voice suddenly rang through the deep silence born from the King of Wisdom's voice.

"Are you implying that the Academy and Merchants intend to use food as a weapon?" It was the Vampire clad in red and black with skin as pale as milk and eyes as deep a red as blood. She sat straight and upright in a chair composed of bones of hunted beasts padded by velvet pillows. Though she spoke to a man who humbled her nation, she spoke without anger or hate. No, she spoke solely as a leader who wished to make their nation proud. Not a mere beast. "That they intend to starve us all to weaken us?"

The King of Wisdom, of course, chose the perfect answer.

"Yes. It is what I would do in their place. It's what any of us would do, no?" His smile at the words was small and filled with guilt, but his eyes were clear and matched each of his fellow leaders in turn. Each one met his gaze and said not a word. Not even the Deliverer. In an instant, as I grappled with my beliefs of honor, I realized the difference between those who would shape history and those who would merely play their part in it. Despite all my strength and power and might, I felt small for the first time in my life. All in the room, save for the six leaders, were miniscule in truth. "They'll increase the prices of food. They shall watch us bicker amongst ourselves. They want us to eye each other's stores and ignore their 'fairly bought' foods, and they will strengthen their walls, so we can only surge for one another's."

This time it was the leader of the Forgers who spoke. Grey mottled a fiery red beard and a ferocious countenance, while eyes that were practically aglow like the embers of flame peaked past a heavy brow. The leader of the Forgers wore a red cape upon blackened armor inlaid with hundreds of golden lines, each one a victorious battle, and leaning against his throne of flowing steel and metal was an axe whose blade sank into stone like sand.

"Your point has been made, King of Wisdom. You have our ears. What is to be done?" They came here as neutral parties. They arrived and stated that they would do nothing but watch and observe. Clad in powerful armor, covered in magics long thought lost, and some of their number carrying guns larger than I'd ever seen, they came solely to showcase their wares and offer their services. Yet, their leader spoke and pretended that it was his intent all along to do so. In the face of a true threat, no, in the face of words of wisdom, even an animal lusting for gold can be made into a man. "Ye know of what the Academy and Merchants intend, so what can we do against them?"

This was the crux.

The King of Wisdom took hold of everyone's hearts in but a few moments, but here he could lose them without the perfect words.

Of course, he had them.

"Nothing more than a simple, but firm sanction against their gold for our food, and firm trade lines amongst us." With a single phrase, he sought to bind us together through gold and food… through the only method in the continent that could do so. A thing that only he had, which we saw every hour of the day since we arrived. "And, of course, space upon my flying carriages for food for no cost at all for the sake of saving as many lives as possible."

My youngest officer had feared those flying carriages being used for war.

Instead, Jack used them for peace… in a manner far more terrifying.

He would bind us all together, and to refuse would mean starvation and defeat.