Chapter 34 – Diplomacy

A year had passed since Kaemir Lorak's 'retirement,' and as soon as the nobility had realized that this wasn't just a bad joke, the shifting of blame began in full throttle. It didn't take long for the already fragile alliance between the Houses to break into shambles. To begin with, its sole purpose had been to unite against Zeristin and his academy. Therefore, its collapse wasn't too much of a surprise for those involved.

Regardless, Ethena was left severely weakened, without a ruler to guide the empire. In spite of that, the war had yet to progress to a critical stage. Throughout the western border, small skirmishes occurred, but none of them had yet to escalate to an unmanageable degree.

During these chaotic times, Marvis von Erestiv sat inside his office, where he watched the hurrying servants in his courtyard through the window. On his desk were stacks of paperwork that never seemed to decrease despite him working without pause. Since there wasn't a proper form of any kind of government, each Noble House took control of individual conflicts, trying to somehow keep them at bay. For the time being, they succeeded, but whether that was an actual attribution to their management or not was a question no one wanted to think about.

All of that small fighting already posed an enormous problem to their 'government,' and the coming future could be easily imagined. Naturally, the public was kept in the dark about the sudden disappearance of their emperor. But it was only a matter of time until the news would spread, inevitably robbing the entire country of its morale. Regardless, the Noble Houses refused to surrender without trying everything they had in their assets.

“What if...?”

Marvis muttered to himself, slightly amused by his own thoughts. Kaemir's retirement always brought a smile on his face, and he couldn't deny that there were some distinct advantages in doing the same. But, in the end, after carefully weighing all of the points, he didn't choose to abandon his House just yet.

“Try to contact Tristan Stelfort!”

He shouted out, and in response, a pair of footsteps hurried away from the entrance of his office, following the orders they had received. Since certain events were bound to unfold, it was time to choose a side and ensure the existence of the House of Erestiv. Above him, the shouts of the elders of this Noble House traveled to every corner of the mansion. Marvis wondered for some time whether all of this was worth the trouble, but he immediately dispersed these thoughts. This was about his own future, and he shouldn't let his emotions influence his actions. As much as he wanted to see those haughty old codgers fall flat on their noses, he had other interests to pursue.

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All across the continent, that belonged to humanity, people prepared for the great battle that could arrive at any time. For many, this had long been an event that was bound to happen eventually. However, very few were aware of the missing Zeristin Wezlak and Kaemir Lorak, who had led to the escalation of this previous stalemate.

As far as the common populace of the Empire of Ryst and the Republic of Ashos was concerned, none of them knew about the disappearance of these prominent figures. Seemingly, the invasion was still put on hold because of the carefulness of the involved parties. Although there was a non-aggression treatment between Ryst and Ashos, it didn't count for much. Thus, this was a three-way conflict, where neither country could mindlessly charge in and took hold of Ethena as the other party surely wouldn't only stand by and watch. 

That was the status quo of this conflict.

Somewhere to the west of Ethena, there was a mountain range that functioned as a natural border between the three countries. Above the clouds of these mountains that stretched into the distance like a scar that covered the ground, a group of three people traveled through the air, each using their own forms of Magecraft as support. Eventually, they landed on the tallest peak of the mountain range, which was covered in a faint blanket of snow, where another two waited for their arrival.

A large man that resembled the boulder he was standing on more than any regular human, waited impatiently with his arms crossed. In a steady rhythm, one of his fingers tapped onto the brimming muscles of his arms, as an annoying glint flashed through his eyes when he saw the latest arrivals coming closers.

His flamboyant red clothes exaggerated his riches in every manner possible, lacking any form of protection despite being formed in the image of a heavy breastplate. Behind him, his similarly fiery-red cape fluttered in the wind that was adjusted to his wide shoulder pads that depicted the heads of roaring lions. Their ridiculous size would make it hard for the person wearing them to pass through any regular doors. On his face, old scars appeared like ravines on the ground that had been torn apart by the forces of the earth itself.

At last, his finger stopped in its unceasing activity as the group landed in front of him. He turned his head towards them as his crimson hair scattered in the wind, accentuating his wild nature in every one of his movements. When he finally spoke up, his deep voice quaked throughout the mountain they stood on, creating the illusion of the earth taking on the duty of speaking for him.

“You're not only late as always, but also dressed as unnerving.”

“Excuse our late arrival, Emperor of Ryst. I sincerely apologize, but we had urgent matters to attend to prior to our important meeting.”

The Emperor of Ryst snorted heavily in response to the woman speaking up. It was always the same with their stuck-up attitude - he absolutely loathed dealing with them.

The woman who had responded bowed slightly along her waist-line before straightening herself up again in a perfectly trained motion. Her unflinching gaze met the Emperor's ferocious eyes, while her own contained a calmness of unmatched tranquility. Yet, this Emperor knew that this calmness could flare up into a turbulent storm at any moment that would no longer restrain her feisty temper. 

Honestly speaking, he liked dealing with her more when she lost control of her emotions. This act of looking through the countless layers of deceit and putting them up oneself wasn't exactly his forte, nor was he ever fond of playing along with that. That was probably most of the reason their last meeting had ended in such a fashion that left a bad after-taste in the mouths of those involved, albeit for entirely different reasons.

In stark contrast to the Emperor of Ryst, the woman wore a black suit that was perfectly tailored to her slim proportions. An uncommon outfit, and much too restricting for the Emperor's taste. Especially these black 'neckties' were something he'd never understand. Why would anyone carry their death-sentence and own noose around the neck? 

The woman in front was accompanied by another woman, that was the spitting image of her. Wearing the same kind of suit and tie, she appeared more like a mirror image than an individual. There was not the slightest difference in their long blonde hair that was bound into ponytails, reaching down to the bottom of their buttocks. Both contained a maturity that was unlikely for the appearance of young women their age.

If there were a single difference between them, it would be the different color distribution in their eyes. While the woman in front had an unusual pair of emerald-green and sapphire-blue eyes, the woman next to her had the same pair but placed the other way around. They brought with them a surreal display of asymmetric beauty that could be rarely found.

The remaining person among their group was an old man that stood silently to their side. With his white gloves, he appeared to be nothing more than their servant or butler. His hair had already turned into a grey-white, yet, behind the wrinkles, his face contained a healthy vitality, making one question if his outside appearance was even real.

“Don't be like that, Esten. It's not proper to hurry a lady.”

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The other person that had waited on the mountain spoke up. Compared to the Emperor of Ryst, he was much less eye-catching. Donning a simple magus-robe, that had apparently been stitched by simple methods several times, he chuckled heartily as he looked at the irritated man next to him. The brownish robe had been stained by so much dirt that it was almost impossible to recognize the initial color it used to have. His face was much more gentle, almost resembling the present women more than the hard-cut curvatures of the Emperor next to him. Just líke his entire attitude exuded, his black hair fluttered freely in the wind as if living a life of its own.

“Don't get me started on you, Tristan!!”

Esten Ryst growled as he changed his focus from the group of three. He wasn't usually this easy to aggravate, but the kind of people he had been forced to meet with over the recent months left him helpless. They were just too difficult to deal with. One party didn't take matters seriously while the other took them far too seriously.

“Excuse me again...”

The woman in the front of the group, coughed slightly to properly open the conversation.

“How do these two gentlemen prefer to handle this now? I believe each of us had enough time to think matters through after our last meeting that went... slightly unproductive.”

When speaking of their last meeting, the usually calm and collective tone of the woman lost some of its confidence and contained an underlying sigh of exhaustion. She turned her head to the side, where various mountains were rising from the ground like weeds - Except for one spot.

Like a knife that had cut through butter, one mountain was cleanly cut off from the base, leaving behind a blank slate of earth that was smoother than any crafted floor. The whereabouts of the remaining stone that had made up the mountain where nowhere to be seen. Their last meeting had not only ended in disagreement and was unfruitful, but it had also led to heavy fighting amongst two parties.

“What do you think we should do, Lynnden?” Esten Ryst asked, instead of answering her.

“The Republic of Ashos,” She corrected him with a strained voice that tried to ignore the events of the past. “...has not changed its opinion. We believe that all of this can be handled peacefully. The Empire of Ethena is guaranteed to have no future and is unable to put up a proper resistance. I believe that Ryst and Ashos can come to a peaceful agreement on how to divide the country and its resources.”

Without taking a step back, she met Esten's gaze as if leaving no room for disagreement. The latter frowned in response to her attitude, but in truth, since their last fight had turned into a stalemate, he held some respect for the group from Ashos. Thus, he was more willing to listen to them this time.

“As for Tristan, however,... I believe this is a matter for the two countries to decide. A man like you has no place here, nor do your words hold any worth.”

Lynnden looked over at Tristan, who remained unbothered by her insulting words. While she tried to seize up this unknown man that had risen to fame, Tristan himself didn't seem bothered by it and met her scrutiny with a calm smile.

Seeing his indifference rekindled her remaining cinders of fury from their last meeting. Tristan had acted exactly the same after her group, and Esten ended up in a confrontation that was resolved through the use of force. Calmly watching from the sidelines, as if none of this had anything to do with him, and yet, he still appeared in their meetings like he was supposed to be here.

“Now... Now...”

Esten Ryst stepped inbetween the two with his raised hands, trying to mediate. Her proposal was no doubt reasonable and something he could agree to. He wasn't necessarily stepping up for Tristan. Still, he couldn't let this upstart woman take control of the negotiations just like that. Dealing with this pair of twins had been quite a headache, so it was only fair he returned their favor.

“I don't think Tristan deserves to be treated like that.” He turned towards the group of three, standing next to Tristan and taking his side.

“You can no longer ignore him like that, missy.” His words definitely hit a nerve, but before Lynnden could speak up in protest, Esten continued. “I'm afraid if he and I were to exchange blows, I would come up only slightly ahead of him.”

Whether this was true or not, it left Lynnden frustrated regardless. If Esten Ryst was going to behave like this, their negotiations would get nowhere.

Meanwhile, although Esten had been erupting in a burst of laughter while he said so, his gaze contained some seriousness as he glanced at Tristan. It was apparent Esten was confident in his own strength, but this Tristan who had one day come out of nowhere and made incredible, almost impossible, progress, wasn't someone he could ignore anymore.

Audibly clicking her tongue in annoyance, more loudly than she had wanted to, Lynnden watched the two men who left her in this stalemate they call 'negotiations,' without any form of progress while wasting her time.

“So, what does Mr. Tristan Stelfort have to say?”

“It's about time you asked,” Tristan answered with a smile. “You know, if you had asked me from the beginning, we could have saved ourselves quite some time. After all, it is somewhat... inappropriate... for me to raise this topic myself.”

With these words, Tristan clearly raised the interest of anyone present, and regardless of whether they agreed with his nonsense or not, they listened earnestly.

“What you've proposed so far, sounds great and all... but I don't agree.”

“Then what do you propose?” Esten spoke up first, more intrigued than annoyed by his antics.

“Since you disagree, you must have a notion of your own,” Lyndenn added, contrarily to Esten, refusing to play along with this charade any longer if his words contained nothing substantial.

“Since Zeristin Wezlak refuses to cooperate, there is only one thing left to do...”

Tristan's voice no longer contained its underlying playfulness as he uttered his next words that included not a trace of irony.

"With your assistance, I will become the official Emperor of Humanity, and under my guidance, I will lead all of us to regain our former glory that was lost in the forgotten past."

When Tristan Stelfort declared the ridiculous, he didn't look at the people in front of him or waited for their answer. Instead, he stared into the distance, taking no note of the incredulous gazes of ridicule or their remarks. No, his eyes were already fixed onto the future where the fate of humanity lay. Because, in his mind, this matter was already done with. Since Zeristin Wezlak refused, Tristan Stelfort would be declared the first Emperor of Humanity after the Third Beginning. Such was the history that was written that day.

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The three countries were about equal in size. The people living in them, however, were somewhat different from one another. It wasn't the case of contrasting appearances that made them different. Those could be found anywhere in the three countries without a particular distinction in location. But the government that formed the living conditions were vastly different.

Ethena and Ryst were somewhat similar on the surface as each country had its major cities with small numeral villages spread throughout the land. There was one big difference, however. Ryst was ruled by the single party that belonged to the Emperor. No signs of other nobility remained, leaving behind the monarch that had full control over the country.

No one that lived in Ryst was dissatisfied with that or believed their emperor was a tyrant. The class system was no more, allowing for many people to prosper without anything shackling them. Conspiracies and criminals were still abundant, but nothing could be absolutely perfect. So that being said, the living standards in Ryst were, objectively speaking, very good and considered the best by most.

The Republic of Ashos was very different compared to the other two countries. Most people on the outside didn't even know much about this country as entry was prohibited for a long time. Trading had been and still was strictly regulated, and any information about the country barely spread outside. The few scraps of information that had made it to the public created an even bigger mystery around it. Stories were told about monstrous buildings that breathed foul air into the sky, that were nothing like the tower of magi. Most villages were no more, and almost all of the people were living in the few major cities, creating the image of a small populace that could barely sustain itself.

To the people outside the Republic, the image of this forbidden country slowly turned into a land of nightmares. The rumbling sounds that traveled through the earth around its borders were attributed to the existence of an enraged dragon beneath the surface that raised humans in captivity to feed upon them. This was merely one of the countless rumors that drifted around the other countries for a long time.

Only since recent years did the country began interacting more openly and conducting a proper foreign policy. Slowly the veil of this mysterious country was lifted. But most information was still hidden behind that curtain, mixed together with the truth in the rumor mill. There was, however, a single rumor that arose the interest of everyone, regardless of where they lived.

Apparently, in the Republic of Ashos, one was able to practice Magecraft, without needing any form of talent. Whether your sense and control of mana was high or not, didn't matter. All one needed was a properly functioning brain, and the doors to the world of Magecraft stood wide open.

To the traveling devil, none of this was important. Not once had he rested, the new energy in his body, allowing him to continue his unceasing work. For a year, he had traveled to every corner of Ethena and parts of Ryst. For the following year, he would continue to do so, including the Republic, where entry was strictly controlled. Nothing would make him pause. Not the breath-taking site of nature or the humans that changed the world with every passing moment. He would take no note of the ongoing chain of events that would change the fate of humanity. Although they'd started because of him, he didn't care the least about them.

Not until he would break these shackles at any cost. After that...

On the 6th day of Reka, 2373 (attb.), the eight-thousand-six-hundred-thirty-forth contract was made, as a young boy wished for the attention of his parents.