Seven days.
To ordinary people, it was merely another week in the calendar.
To the leaders of the Human Domain and the Devil Kingdom, however, those seven days carried the weight of centuries.
For the first time in history, the successor of the Devil King would step into the human capital not as an invader, not as a conqueror, and not as an enemy—but as a guest invited to discuss peace.
The announcement had not yet reached the mon people in its entirety, but among the nobles, merchants, guilds, and military officers, the news spread like wildfire.
The entire continent seemed to hold its breath.
And thus began the longest week Edolas had seen in generations.
**********************************************
On the very first day after the invitation was approved, the human capital transformed into a city preparing for war and celebration at the same time.
Carriages rolled through the streets from dawn until midnight.
Messengers ran from one district to another carrying sealed letters stamped with the insignias of the Church, the Authority, and the War Council.
The guards stationed at the capital gates doubled overnight.
Nobody openly admitted it, but everyone understood the truth.
No one trusted anyone.
The Church feared deception.
The Authority feared sabotage.
The War Council feared conflict between the two.
Meanwhile, ordinary soldiers simply feared making a mistake that history would remember forever.
At the eastern gate, hundreds of guards trained under the scorching afternoon sun.
Their captain paced in front of them.
"If a devil noble insults you?"
"Endure it!"
"If someone provokes you?"
"Endure it!"
"If chaos breaks out?"
"Protect the civilians first!"
The soldiers answered in unison.
"Yes, sir!"
Even among themselves, whispers spread.
"What if the devils attack?"
"What if the Church starts a riot?"
"What if the Authority arrests someone?"
The veterans simply shook their heads.
After surviving countless battles, they knew one truth.
Politics was far more dangerous than war.
**********************************************
At the center of the city, craftsmen worked without rest.
Stone masons repaired roads that had remained cracked for years.
Blacksmiths reinforced iron gates.
Workers repainted walls and statues that had faded from time.
Entire districts were cleaned from top to bottom.
Merchants plained loudly.
"Why are they repairing roads now of all times?"
"Because important guests are ing."
"Important guests? They’re devils!"
"Keep your voice down."
Workers carrying lumber passed by.
One elderly man spat onto the ground.
"Yesterday, we fought them. Today, we’re decorating the city for them."
His younger panion sighed.
"That’s politics."
The old man grumbled but continued hammering nails into a wooden platform.
Regardless of opinions, work had to continue.
*************************************************
Near the assembly hall, preparations became even more elaborate.
The meeting chamber itself underwent changes every single day.
Additional seats were installed.
Observer galleries were expanded.
New banners representing the Church, the Authority, and the War Council hung from the marble walls.
Workers climbed ladders from sunrise to sunset.
Dozens of servants rushed through the hall carrying tables, documents, and furniture.
The argument over seating arrangements alone lasted nearly an entire day.
"The Church representatives should sit closer to the center."
"The Authority has equal standing."
"The War Council must remain between both sides."
"The guild masters require additional seats."
"What about the observers?"
The debate continued for hours.
Eventually, mander Rurik simply ordered everyone to stop arguing and decide the next day.
Even preparations for peace somehow became political.
*******************************************
Elsewhere in the capital, inns experienced their busiest week in years.
Representatives from distant territories began arriving one after another.
Guild members filled taverns.
Merchants rented entire floors of expensive hotels.
Nobles arrived with servants and personal guards.
Every conversation inevitably drifted toward the same topic.
"Will peace truly happen?"
"Impossible."
"It has to happen."
"The Church will never allow it."
"The Authority wants it."
"The War Council is divided."
No one knew the answer.
Everyone simply guessed.
*******************************
Markets became equally chaotic.
Merchants sensed opportunity.
Prices rose almost overnight.
Street vendors sold miniature banners carrying the symbols of humanity.
Some ambitious merchants even attempted to sell souvenirs supposedly inspired by devil culture despite having absolutely no idea what devil culture actually looked like.
One shopkeeper proudly displayed red horns made from painted wood.
"Authentic devil accessories!"
A passing scholar stopped and stared.
"Devils don’t even look like that."
The merchant shrugged.
"They sell well."
Children gathered around the stand, pretending to be devils while chasing one another through the streets.
Parents watched nervously.
Some laughed.
Others pulled their children away.
The atmosphere of uncertainty touched everyone.
************************************
Meanwhile, rumors spread faster than facts.
Some believed the Devil King’s successor possessed the ability to read minds.
Others claimed she could transform into a dragon.
One particularly absurd rumor insisted that devils could survive without heads.
Taverns became battlefields of opinion.
At one table, a merchant slammed his cup onto the counter.
"Peace means trade!"
Across from him, a retired soldier shook his head.
"Peace means lowering our guard."
A third man sighed.
"Peace means my taxes will probably increase."
The entire tavern burst into laughter.
For a brief moment, politics disappeared beneath ordinary plaints.
************************************************
The adventurer guilds also entered a state of preparation.
Requests for additional security poured in from every direction.
Guild receptionists worked late into the night.
Veteran adventurers sharpened weapons while discussing possible outes.
"If negotiations fail?"
"We prepare for war."
"If negotiations succeed?"
"We lose work."
"That’s not necessarily bad."
"Easy for you to say."
Even among adventurers, opinions differed greatly.
The younger generation dreamed of a future without endless conflict.
The older generation struggled to imagine a world without enemies.
****************************************************
Far from the capital, preparations continued in quieter ways.
Supply caravans carrying food and medicine traveled toward the city.
Farmers worked overtime to meet increasing demands.
Horse breeders sold their best mounts to nobles and officials.
Blacksmith villages glowed at night as furnaces continued burning long after sunset.
An entire continent was moving without realizing it.
Everyone was preparing for something.
No one knew exactly what.
****************************************
As the days passed, security measures became stricter.
Every visitor entering the city underwent inspection.
Magic barriers were reinforced.
The rooftops surrounding the assembly hall became occupied by archers and mages.
The citizens noticed the changes immediately.
"The city feels different."
"It feels tense."
"It feels like we’re waiting for a storm."
Perhaps they were right.
Because beneath all the preparations, beneath all the speeches and promises, something darker remained hidden.
Within the Church, factions quietly prepared arguments to reject the treaty.
Within the Authority, ambitious nobles discussed how to exploit the changing political landscape.
Within the War Council, manders worried less about devils and more about the possibility of division among humans themselves.
Every side smiled publicly.
Every side prepared privately.
***************************
On the sixth day, the city fell unusually quiet.
The excitement of the previous days faded into nervous anticipation.
Workers pleted their final tasks.
Soldiers inspected their equipment one last time.
Servants polished the marble floors until they reflected the chandeliers above.
Even the birds nesting atop the city walls seemed strangely silent.
That evening, countless citizens stood on balconies and rooftops, staring toward the distant horizon.
Some prayed.
Some worried.
Some simply waited.
For years, humanity had united against a mon enemy.
Now, for the first time, they were being asked to imagine a future without one.
And that frightened people more than they cared to admit.
**************************************
As the seventh day arrived, dawn broke over the capital.
Golden sunlight washed over the towers, roads, and rooftops.
The city looked beautiful.
Peaceful.
Almost normal.
But beneath that ordinary appearance, tension stretched through every street like an invisible thread.
Shopkeepers opened their stores earlier than usual.
Soldiers took their positions before sunrise.
The bells of the Church echoed across the city.
Messengers ran through the streets carrying final orders.
The assembly hall stood ready.
The capital stood ready.
Humanity stood ready.
Or at least, they convinced themselves that they were.
Because somewhere beyond the mountains, the future of Edolas was already approaching.
And whether it would bring peace, chaos, or something in between—
No one knew.
All they could do was wait.
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