Halfway through his stupor, an uproar broke out in the chamber, and Gaius came to with a shock.

“Calm down, calm down!” Kolya was saying. “I’m just making a proposal! It can still be changed, but offer suggestions, not criticism! Our shift to a wartime economy cannot be delayed any longer! Have you lot forgotten about the legends of demonkind?”

“Immortal, yes. But I don’t see how a complete overhaul of every single economy into total specialisation is going to help our cause,” Queen Hyperion replied. “If my Western Holdings are to give up farming to be entirely focused on supplying raw materials, are my citizens going to import food from the other nations? Would you allow your lifeline to be in the hands of others? The Western Holdings is an agrarian nation; we will not abandon that for something as ludicrous as this.”

“There are untold reserves of raw material in your Holdings, Queen Hyperion, enough to manufacture behemoths of war that would significantly lower the number of soldiers needed to hold the front,” the Pinnacle replied. “You know that as well as I do. But without a shift in focus, whatever methods you use to extract them for central processing will be inefficient, at least.”

“Then let me propose a counter-offer, Pinnacle Kolya,” Queen Hyperion replied. “My Holdings will be in the position of supplying an annual amount of nine million tonnes of primary material by January three years from now, instead of this forced shift of three million by the end of this year. How does that sound?”

“Six million, January after next,” Kolya replied. “That’s the latest I can ask for. The manufacturing process needs time; if huge delays arise on your side, we can just hand the Five Lands on a platter to the demons.”

“Seven and a half million, eighteen months from now,” the Queen replied. “I will not let my people stop working on their specialties, and I will not issue decrees either. This shift must be willing.”

The Pinnacle spoke a few words to the man beside him, who had replaced Xanadu while Gaius was zoning out. He scribbled, worked through some numbers, and then reported them to Kolya. The boy wasn’t sure what was going on — he was no economist — but from the looks of it, the Five Lands were probably intending to crank more ships like the Unity.

“We can accept it, but you’ll have to contribute more resources in our construction of the industrial complex,” Kolya replied. “And you must be willing to supply food to any nation who has issues.”

“Hmph. Vulture. Fine.” Queen Hyperion sat down. “We’ll get that down in writing.”

“Good.” Pinnacle Kolya turned to the delegates from the East. “What issues do you guys have?”

“Personally, and as a state, we don’t see a problem,” replied a Paragon that Gaius recognised by appearance only. “However, your proposal makes use of a particular artefact, no?”

“The Display. What of it?” Pinnacle Kolya asked. “The East’s latest invention is something that would see far more use in a military context. Is it wrong for me to ask to use it?”

“No, it’s just this invention doesn’t belong to us wholly, and the three scientists behind this innovation aren’t willing to cooperate,” the Paragon replied.

“I don’t think the East has a tradition of oppressing the intelligentsia,” Kolya replied. “What did you guys do? Should I offer them citizenship status instead? Or do I need to depose of the current Plenum and install capable rulers instead?”

He paused. “That was a joke.”

Some of the others forced out a few laughs, and the Pinnacle folded his arms. “So, what do I need to do?”

“We just need to get into contact with a person who had been particularly famous in the past few months, who’s most likely in your territory,” the Paragon replied.

“And who might that be?”

“The Lost Star, Gaius,” he replied. “He’s probably in the North right now. If you find him, just hand him this artefact and ask him to convince the three of them.”

Kolya glanced at the artefact floating in front of them, his mouth still a thin line. “What am I supposed to tell him?”

“Uh.” The Paragon glanced at the woman beside him.

Clearing her throat, she said, “Ask him to approve the mass production of the Display. He’s the primary funder behind their research, so his requests have legal force.”

“Didn’t you guys recently make him a wanted person?” Kolya asked. “Why is he still able to operate with the backing of your laws?”

“We don’t need to answer that,” she replied. “But for us to contribute the Display, you’ll need his permission for this. You have to find him first, and then convince him to give you production rights to their research.”

“Sounds like you’re washing your hands of this matter,” the Pinnacle replied. “It’ll be tough, looking for him.”

If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

Gaius turned his head slightly and cursed the shameless liar under his breath. Making up his mind to rip the Pinnacle off, the boy looked at Oracle Galina, who was munching on some nuts a few seats away. Beside her was an asleep Xanadu, her head lolling backwards on the chair’s backrest.

“Let us not dwell on this matter anymore,” said the Eastern Paragon. “The next issue we have is regarding the occupation of Eo-Seu by the late Lifespring’s familiar spirits. Most of our fluctite production facilities were based there, along with ninety-three percent of the Five Lands’s fluctite reserves.”

A crimson radiant shadow looked at its emerald counterpart, and Thasvia said, “We’ll handle that part within a month.”

The great gods returned to a state of light mediation a moment later, and Kolya gestured at the Paragon, as if he was saying ‘See?’ After a moment of silence, he turned to the representatives from the Southern Assembly and the Republic of Francois.

“Now, as for you guys…”

Gaius’ eyelids began to droop once more, and before he knew it, time had passed by in dollops. When he next came to, everyone was filing out of the chamber, a warm orange light streaming into the windows.

Day two was over.

But before he could make a break for it, Pinnacle Kolya showed up in front of him, a sunny smile on his face.

“Gaius, Gaius. So…were you paying attention earlier?” the Pinnacle asked.

The boy had a feeling he knew where this was going, so he shook his head. “Grown-up stuff is boring. I was sleeping.”

“I see.” Kolya cupped his chin. “Well, I need a piece of tech — or rather, an artefact — to better prepare us for the upcoming invasion. And apparently, you’re the majority shareholder in this whole thing. I need your permission to mass produce this, for some reason.”

“For some reason?” Gaius repeated. “I mean, I invested tens of thousands into the Display, so it’s for a very legitimate reason.”

“You were listening after all!” The Pinnacle folded his arms. “Well, that makes it a lot easier.”

“I agree,” Gaius nodded, making sure to smile brilliantly. “I’ll sell the manufacturing rights to you, for a tidy sum of a hundred thousand gold per annum. How’s that sound?”

“Are you charging me this based on the emergent demon invasion?” Pinnacle Kolya squatted down and looked Gaius in the eye. “I never knew you were such a charitable fellow. I’ll make sure to announce this to the Five Lands, so—”

“Hol’ up. Are you saying that my price is a bit too cheap?” Gaius asked.

“What else do you think I meant?” he replied. “I expected the price to be four to five times higher, for the sale of manufacturing rights, since there’s no restraint on consumer base. But if we can construe this to be proof of your compassion, it’s not impossible for me to convince the other nations to grant you an irrevocable, permanent tax-exemption.”

“How’s that supposed to help me?” Gaius asked.

“Well, I’m purchasing the rights to the current iteration of the Display. If your team comes with the next few generations, and other people purchase them from you, you’ll be rolling in money in a few years,” said Kolya. “Of course, it’s a drop in the bucket for people like me, but being tax-exempt’s going to make your route to richness so much smoother.”

Gaius pondered for a moment, and then agreed to sell it for a hundred thousand per year. After all, there was only so much gold could do. And he only had a few people he cared about; all that gold wasn’t going to help him much in the war anyway.

Might as well trade it for some brownie points. Gaius glanced at the happy Pinnacle, and wondered why the fellow acted like a child every so often. He was the stately leader of the North, the strongest nation in the Five Lands, and yet…looking at him right now, Gaius was reminded of the three scientists he’d met back at the North.

All of them were eccentric fellows.

Come to think of it, the Pinnacle was actually more than a hundred years old, wasn’t he? Gaius levelled an open eye at the capering fellow, and wondered if there was an old people’s club after all.

“Right, pass that Display over to me,” said Gaius. “The one that the East’s Paragon gave you.”

Kolya hung around his shoulder as the boy booted up the thing. A string, filled with numbers, were tied onto it — it was the scientists’ communication note. Fiddling with the Display, Gaius soon punched in the string of numbers. Moments passed, with a toot-toot sound for company, but he didn’t need to wait too long before someone picked up.

“Bo Shi speaking. This number…who’s on the line?”

“It’s me,” Gaius replied.

“And you are…?”

“The little kid that Ying Xin brought over?” Gaius answered. “The Pinnacle wants to buy some manufacturing rights from me.”

A few seconds of silence followed. “Wait. It can’t be. Are you Gaius? Our little Gaius?! How have you been? I heard that the bastards wanted to capture you! Where are you now? Do you need help! Did the Pinnacle lock you up and force you to make this call?”

Gaius laughed, and then turned to Kolya. “Let me settle my private affairs here, and then I’ll pass this over to you.”

“Sure.”

The Pinnacle retreated into the shadows, and the boy began to retell his long, long story. Bo Shi was joined by the other two old men, Shiki and Ihae. The perfect audience, they ‘oohed’ and ‘aahed’ at the best parts of the boy’s recounting, and Gaius found himself more and more engrossed in his story-telling.

A small stone bounced off his head, and Gaius looked up to see an annoyed Pinnacle and a night sky. Belatedly, the boy realised that he’d spent more than an hour in his excited recounting. Changing the topic, he soon made arrangements to split the profit, and after reassuring that he really wasn’t being coerced once more, Gaius handed the Display over to the Pinnacle, who immediately began to promise a handsome renumeration

It was probably the first ever cross-continent call to boot, now that he thought about it. Or not. He wasn’t too sure. Either way, Gaius was glad that he actually came for the second day of the conference; he had intended to re-join Nakama and Isabelle after the first day.

“That’s it for me, then,” said Gaius.

“Indeed,” Pinnacle Kolya replied, having ended the call. “Your part here is over. And you weren’t all that interested in the nitty details anyway. I’ll send you pertinent information after all this…as well the departure times of the Eastern delegates.”

Gaius grunted. Galina and Kolya were both aware of his desire to get rid of Paragon Shizo, who was doing a darn good job in staying low-profile. But since they were the hosts, they had the exact schedule for departures and arrivals…as well as a complete net of eyes around the place.

“I’ll intercept them alone,” Gaius added, before Kolya could do anything. “Leaders must stand in an unblemished light. A bloodstained shadow is unnoticeable.”

“Very well.” The Pinnacle puffed himself up. “Just don’t die for it.”