Chapter 744: Alliance
But the next topic stung deeper.
"Next motion," Salvatore said. "Support requested by the Moon Kingdom, Hearth Kingdom, and eight others for military and food assistance.
Harley of the Moon Kingdom stood. Her voice was polite and practiced, but the tremor beneath revealed her fear.
"The Moon Kingdom has been holding against the monsters and magical beasts for almost a year. The beasts pouring out of the dungeon is increasing day by day. Our crops fail due to tainted soil. Our people haven’t had a peaceful night for months. We request allied troops and monthly grain transport under ergency support clause #42."
"Clause #42 is reserved for wars," barked council mber Aztor of the Rogue Throne.
"What do you call the current situation then?" she demanded.
Rhea watched the room closely. Faces of pity. But not commitnt.
Council mber Venlor from the Sacred Empire clicked his tongue.
"Sympathies aside, we cannot send soldiers to every crying kingdom. The Empires have their battles."
"Easy to say when your walls are tall and your treasury full," ca a dry voice from the Northern Kingdom’s delegate.
The debate turned heated.
Council mbers from Hearth Kingdom, Highmoor, Goldencrown, and Nythoria stood and made their cases. They spoke of border villages massacred by monsters and beasts. Of crops turned to ash overnight. Of entire towns gone without a trace.
But when the poll ca, the votes were clear.
Support: 194
Oppose: 237
Abstained: 79
The Speaker stood.
"Proposal denied. No aid will be given. We move to the next topic..."
Rhea watched the representatives of small kingdoms and dukedoms hanging their heads in disappointnt.
Before the eting ended, many stood up from their seats and left the assembly hall angrily and frustrated.
And with that, she also left the hall, followed by Edith and Runeth.
The assembly hall was filled with frustration and disappointnt for the next few days.
...
On the twenty-second day of the Council eting, a gathering began to unfold beneath the gilded chandeliers of the rmaid’s Inn’s private hall.
Representatives from the eight small kingdoms — Moon Kingdom, Hearth Kingdom, Goldencrown, Northern Kingdom, Nythoria, Highmoor, Everpeak, and Oakspire Nation — entered with cautious hope in their eyes. Along with them ca over a hundred council mbers from the Thirteen Dukedoms of Edhen World, each bearing their family crests and silent grievances.
Edith stood at the entrance, her gaze piercing. She silently noted each face and greeted them with a respectful nod.
At the far end of the chamber stood Rhea, donned in the crimson-black ceremonial attire of the Iron Kingdom. Her presence held the room together like gravity itself.
Once everyone was seated, the doors shut behind them, and a subtle silence fell. No guards. No servants. Only the gathered voices of the overlooked and ignored.
Rhea stepped forward and began to speak.
"They ignored you," she said plainly, letting the weight of her words linger. "They silenced your voices, rejected your pleas for aid, and trampled your hopes under their boots of pride and profit."
Her gaze swept over the room, resting briefly on each face.
"We saw what happened in the Council Hall. Your requests were denied. Your concerns dismissed. Even the Dukedoms of Greystone, Eldrath, and Sablere—with centuries of mbership in the United Council—were denied a chance to speak."
There were murmurs of agreent.
"And yet, you ca," Rhea continued, her tone becoming warr. "Not to beg... but to stand tall and together."
She turned slightly and motioned toward Edith, who stepped forward with a stack of small parchnt seals and placed them on the center table.
"These," Edith announced, "are alliance tokens. Crafted from the Iron Kingdom’s dark silver tal and sealed by Rhea herself. They represent more than just political ties. They represent protection, cooperation, and most of all, survival."
Runeth leaned against the nearby pillar and smiled, "You all know the truth by now. The Empires don’t care. The Churches are fractured and weakened. Kingdoms like Ember and Arc are already walking towards their doom. And the Council Leader is a puppet. If we don’t unite now, you’ll be the first to fall when the chaos begins — and it will begin. Look around the world. Monster outbreaks, dungeons, cursed lands due to chaos mana, demon appearances, and even evil organizations like the Divine Order operate openly. They are rcilessly slaughtering children, old people, and even the crippled like sheep. You don’t need a prophet to tell you where this is going."
Rhea nodded. "That is why I propose a formal alliance. Between all thirteen Dukedoms and the Eight Kingdoms. If the United Council won’t protect us, we will protect each other."
A few raised eyebrows followed. Then, the representative from Moon Kingdom stood.
"What would this alliance entail, Your Majesty?" he asked.
Rhea replied firmly. "Three things."
"One: A non-aggression pact among all of us."
"Two: Mutual defense. If external forces attack any kingdom or dukedom, the others will provide military, strategic, and resource aid. Additionally, you can send your talented geniuses to the rebirth tower to let them grow and beco the pillars of the world. We will provide education, resources, techniques, and guidance."
"What do you seek in exchange? We all know there is no such thing as free in this world, My Lady." Duke of Greystone said.
"Your concern is valid." Rhea nodded and then spoke.
"In exchange, I want you to support in becoming the next Council Leader. And I want you to back up in creating the Mystic Order."
Although many were still reluctant to follow the forbidden pathway, they agreed to her request.
A smile blood on Rhea’s pale face.
"Three: A New Council of the Forgotten Nations, to be held once every six months. An independent eting where each mber of this alliance will have an equal voice, vote, and respect."
The room fell silent again. So whispered among themselves. Others stared at the emblem etched on the alliance tokens — a silver sword crossed with a quill, encased in a circle of fla.
After a long pause, the Duke of Eldrath rose.
"My family has supported the Sacred Empire for over four hundred years. But yesterday, they didn’t even let us speak." His voice trembled slightly. "We are with you."
A ripple followed. One after another, the council mbers of Highmoor, Goldencrown, Oakspire, and Nythoria agreed.
Soon, all thirteen Dukedoms followed.
Rhea said nothing at first. She bowed her head in deep respect.
Then, Edith stepped forward again and placed a single scroll at the center.
"This is the Treaty of the Forgotten Nations. Sign it now, and this alliance will be sealed by blood and pact."
Runeth waved a hand over the scroll, activating a binding rune array etched with it.
A faint silver light glowed across the parchnt.
The representatives stepped forward, one after another, signing their nas, their kingdom seals, and their oath.
By the end of the hour, all one hundred and ten council mbers had signed.
When the last signature was placed, the light from the scroll pulsed and vanished.
The pact was sealed.
Rhea looked around, her voice steady.
"The tides have turned," she said. "We may be small in the eyes of the Empires. But we are many. And now, we are united."
And with that, the first eting of the Council of Forgotten Nations ended.
...
After the alliance eting concluded, the private chamber fell silent once more. Only three remained: Rhea, Edith, and Runeth. The doors had closed, and the flickering lanterns cast long shadows on the darkwood floor.
Rhea stood near the alliance table, her gloved fingers lightly brushing the edge of the treaty scroll. She didn’t speak. Her gaze was fixed on the faint silver lines where the rune array had faded.
Edith leaned against the wall beside the hearth, arms crossed. "One hundred and ten supporters," she muttered. "Still not enough."
"To beco the Council Leader," Runeth said, finishing her thought, "we need at least two hundred and fifty votes. We’re not even halfway."
Rhea turned her head slightly. "The Empire blocs won’t budge."
"No," Edith agreed. "But the Churches might."
Runeth raised an eyebrow. "Sun Church and Day and Night Church have already shown favor. Each holds about eight votes. That makes sixteen more."
Edith shook her head. "That’s because the Sun God supports us. I’ve used my spell to plant the seed of favor in their minds, but... they’re not puppets. Their core doctrine is still hostile to the Forbidden Pathway. Rhea’s very foundation contradicts everything they worship."
"Their favor won’t last if we push too soon," Runeth added. "Any sudden move will make them retreat."
A quiet mont passed before Edith spoke again. "If we want to gain more votes, we have two choices: target the Churches more aggressively, or expose the truth — that the Gods are not from this world."
Rhea said nothing.
"But that truth," Edith continued, "is dangerous. We don’t have solid evidence. People today truly believe those foreign gods are native. Heroes, saints, miracles — the entire history of Edhen is built around these gods."
Runeth’s voice hardened. "Then it’s not the right ti. That card should only be played when we can prove it. Until the Mystic Order is established and the Ancient Pathway shows clear results, revealing the truth would only backfire."
Edith frowned. "So we wait."
"No," Rhea finally said. Her tone was calm but sharp. "We must do sothing."
There was another pause. Then, Rhea strolled to the map mounted on the far wall — a detailed tapestry of the entire Edhen World. Her eyes moved across it, scanning the Empire lines, the neutral territories, the major Church-controlled zones.
"We should draw more mbers from the Empires," she said. "If we can’t touch the Churches, we should touch the Empires. More importantly, the candidates are not only targeting , but they are already at each other’s throats. We should use it."
"Infighting, huh? But all three candidates are Doomsday avatars and must have a secret alliance." Edith muttered, her words trailing off. "That won’t happen anyti soon."
Runeth looked at her. "Unless soone makes it happen."
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