With everyone finally settled in their proper seating, Emperor Yasu rose, his presence filling the hall like the weight of history itself.
With arms extended wide, as if to embrace the room and all its burdens, he began.
"Noble lords and ladies of Atteria, we gather here not to dwell on the conflicts that fractured our lands, nor to mourn what was lost. No—we are here to forge what must come next. A future unified—stronger, safer, richer than what we have known alone."
He paused, his eyes scanning the hall, weighing the gravity of each word.
"We seek not to resurrect the past, but to fulfill its promise. A future where Irie is whole once more—not out of nostalgia, but out of necessity."
"Let the oldfolk saying guide us: 'Let one hand wash the other.' In unity, we find strength. Where one kingdom lacks, the other shall supply. Where one falters, the other shall steady. Let us stand as one—not as relics of old lines and borders—but as allies for the storms ahead."
His voice deepened, the tone shifting—an undercurrent of warning veiled beneath noble intent.
"The World Council that rose from the ashes of the Convergence War, few centuries ago, is not the same Council that governs today. Once, we stood as one, forged by necessity."
Emperor Yasu glanced at the international delegates as he continued.
"Now ambition festers. Each nation claws for dominance, while the foundation crumbles beneath us. And in the shadows, rogue mages stir—unchanging, unbound, unafraid. They do not squabble. They do not weaken. While we fracture, they grow."
He stepped forward, arms lowering slowly as if bringing the room back down to the ground.
"Let us not be the generation that let the darkness in through divided doors. Let us be the wall against the coming storms—or the ruins upon which history weeps."
Duke Vasotrus Aurelius, the first to rise in defiance, his voice stern and deliberate, "Atteria does not need unification. What we need is sovereignty. We have our own crown to ponder—we do not need another dragging us down like an anchor in your supposed storms."
Yasu replied, his tone calm but cutting, each word deliberate, "You speak of sovereignty while your borders crumble. Eiria's armies stand ready—not to invade, but to protect. Do not mistake our pursuit of peace for weakness, Duke. I have seen what lies beyond division—what waits when unity fails…"
"And it does not wait long," he stepped forward, voice hardening, eyes fixed on Vasotrus like a blade drawn across his pride.
Ramone's jaw clenched. Is he talking about Grand Jester's prophecy? Or something even worse?
"You've grown far too dependent on the World Council's C-BAR forces for your security. Strip that alliance away—let Atteria stand alone—and your kingdom wouldn't last the night. By morning, it would be ash."
Gasps rippled through the chamber—veiled threat or not, every word cut close to truth.
Queen Emiko Amano narrowed her eyes, voice cool but firm, "You speak of protection, but it sounds more like occupation."
Another voice barked from the balcony, "Better Eirian occupation than the rogue mages."
"Moment of transpiracy," Yasu said, raising his hand. His gaze swept the chamber, his voice lowering—not to soften, but to sharpen.
"Eiria faces its own storm—a rebellion brewing in my own kingdom."
Ramone's stomach twisted at those words. He glanced from Emperor Yasu to Princess Kiara. For them to leave Eiria, even briefly, while rebellion stirred… the Grand Jester's prophecy had to be cataclysmic.
Murmurs spread. Queen Emiko's gaze hardened. "A rebellion?"
"Radicals who see us as stagnant. They've begun to act," Yasu admitted. "We are not crumbling, but we are not untouchable. Everyone has a threshold."
Duke Vasotrus scoffed. "And you seek to tie your sinking ship to ours?"
Yasu's gaze hardened.
"This world is changing.
Unity must come—not through war, but through trust. I could have hidden this. Crushed it in the dark. Framed it as treason, silenced the leaders, burned the letters, bled the lands dry until they obeyed. But what would that make me? Another tyrant? Another ruler clutching at legacy while the world burns?"
He paused, letting silence draw tight around every noble present.
"There is a path forward. A union. Not of conquest, but of choice. Through bloodlines, not bloodshed. An arranged marriage... between Eiria and Atteria. A future forged together."
He turned, eyes shifting back and forth on two figures seated in stunned silence.
"My daughter, Princess Kiara Ikari Amakusaye De Eiria, and Lord Ramone Mari of Atteria, son of Prime Minister Giovanni Mari."
The room erupted. Voices clashed, chairs scraped violently against marble.
Ramone sat motionless, the weight of Yasu's words anchoring him in place.
This wasn't in any plan. Not in any vision. What the hell is he doing? Is my father in on this, too?
Kiara's head snapped toward her dad, eyes squinted, voice low and dry, "Father, I agreed to discussions, not being offered up like a treaty token."
"Treachery!" one noble roared, drawing steel before being wrenched back by guards. "If only Lord Julius were here."
Another cheered above the din, "This ends the Irie divide!"
A jeweled headpiece clattered against marble as a matron fainted—like the crown of an old world falling.
"This is a coup in disguise!" someone else bellowed.
"Was the duel just a ploy to humiliate us?" a young noble added, voice cracking.
Duke Vasotrus Aurelius, still bristling, crossed his arms. "A political marriage may appease the romantics in this chamber, but it does not erase the fractures between our kingdoms. You propose unity while ignoring the scars?"
Others called for calm, for order—their voices drowned by the rising storm in the chamber.
Ramone's thoughts spiraled, the world narrowing to Kiara's unflinching stare and the weight of a thousand eyes.
I thought politics was just for nobles and old men with titles. Now I'm the centerpiece of the biggest power play in a century.
This changes everything... and nothing at all.
Queen Emiko stood gracefully, her eyes cool as steel. "Let us not pretend we did not foresee this. The rumors of reunification have circulated for months... years even. Yet, I find it… curious, Emperor Yasu, that you propose such a union without consulting Atteria's ruling family."
Her eyes lingered on King Masamune, then Ramone.
"And even more curious… when the Earl, Julius Aurelius, a proven leader, commander of our national guards and rightful successor to the throne, is absent from this discussion."
Murmurs erupted. The name Julius Aurelius stirred the Congress like a hornet's nest.
Emiko's gaze pierced Yasu. "And our dear prime minister, such decisions should not be made without all relevant parties present."
Masamune's voice, heavy with weariness, rumbled. "Enough. We are here to discuss peace, not settle rival claims."
Emiko's smile was wry, dagger-sharp. "Of course, my king."
Emperor Yasu raised an eyebrow, resolve unchanged.
"Their absence is… noted. But delays only weaken both our kingdoms. The world shifts, with or without us."
The chamber barely had time to digest his words before the doors creaked open again, drawing every eye like a silent command.
The outburst dissolved into hushed whispers.
Giovanni Mari entered with measured steps, fully composed, his cloak billowing behind him. His gaze swept the room, a quiet storm behind his eyes. Whispers trailed him like shadows as he advanced.
He offered a curt bow, the barest nod to Masamune and Yasu.
Ramone blinked in confusion. He hadn't even noticed the doors open. Dad? Where were you?
Queen Emiko's eyes narrowed, calculating. "And where, I wonder, was our esteemed prime minister while such a proposal was laid before us?"
Giovanni finally spoke, his tone stern yet neutral.
"My apologies for the delay," he replied, voice smooth as silk. "I had matters to attend to."
His eyes flicked to Ramone—a glance like a closed door—and lingered on Kiara, unreadable but sharp.
"Sensei." Kiara whispered as she bowed in acknowledged.
Masamune's tone was clipped, watchful.
"You arrive at a most critical moment, Sir Giovanni."
Yasu grinned, eyes narrowing. "Just in time for the good part. Your son is now the subject of great… matrimonial interest. And, my daughter has proven her strength in battle and in diplomacy. If there is to be a new future, it must be one where the next generation leads."
Giovanni paused briefly—then smiled. "I see. An interesting proposition," he remarked evenly, moving towards the front of the assembly with his hands clasped behind his back. "One that raises many questions."
Masamune's reply was steady, almost a challenge.
"Some may call it...opportunistic."
Yasu's grin cut across the tension like a blade.
"Or necessary... It would be the strongest symbol of reunification."
The silence was louder than any protest.
Then, a voice sliced through the stillness—measured, but laced with challenge. "Shouldn't the ones involved have a say?"
All eyes snapped from Giovanni in the walkway back to the front, where Kiara sat upright, eyes locked onto Ramone with laser focus.
His throat tightened. His pulse roared in his ears.
Think, Ramone. Fast.
She tilted her head slightly, voice sharp as a drawn sword. "Mari-san, do you think you can handle me?"
Ramone swallowed, forcing himself to sit up straight.
His voice, when it came, was steadier than he felt. "The real question, Princess, is whether you can handle me."
Laughter spilled out—nervous, uncertain.
Behind the king, Akira stifled a giggle behind her hand, eyes wide.
Ramone leaned back, masking his nerves with a half-smile. That wasn't what I wanted to say—but maybe it was what Atteria needed to hear.
Silence reclaimed the room the instant King Masamune raised his hand, palm steady, commanding.
His voice, grave and deliberate, sliced through the silence like steel through silk. "We have fought our wars, upheld our traditions, and forged separate paths. But the world is changing. The question is—do we remain as we are or..."
The heavy doors burst open before he could finish. A man in a brown blazer adorned with gold buttons and gleaming badges stumbled in, chest heaving, sweat on his brow. His uniform—instantly recognizable—belonged to the highest echelon of global military...
"What's a C-BAR soldier doing inside the territory of a sovereign state?" One envoy demanded.
Everyone recognized the anomaly, but no one was prepared for the words that followed.
"Fo- forgive the intrusion, Your Majesties—urgent news from Salvation Island!
"Warden's Maw has fallen!"
The words dropped like an anchor into the hall.
Faces paled, eyes darted, and somewhere, a glass shattered, unable to bear the sudden shift in pressure.
He swallowed hard, "The Walking Calamity is free...along with countless others. The prison is in ruins. The World Council is calling for an emergency meeting."
The room turned to stone.
King Masamune stood, his face etched with grim finality.
"Then… we may already be too late."