Chapter 633: Legendary Lobbyists (Patreon)

“Before I could even consider lending you any help whatsoever, you must make certain concessions for my people,” said a dark-skinned southron elf. “Your kingdom must provide them special privileges, as well as state-subsidized immigration programs allowing them to move out of the Burnt Desert to where ever they wish to go. Considering the limited time I have, I would expect you to promulgate this law in a public address.”

Argrave regarded the greatest emperor of the southron elves, trying not to let his displeasure at this notion show in his face. Such special privileges would surely incite anger from many factions. Even allowing the Veidimen such liberties in Vasquer had caused considerable problems—problems only slightly abated by the fact Anneliese was his wife. To initiate a program like that… it would cause serious unrest.

But it wasn’t merely this one emperor—he was surrounded by giants of the past, each standing here in their original forms that evoked shock and awe. Garm hadn’t been bluffing when he said there was an artistry to his necromancy. The Guardians of the Low Way and other such Order of the Rose abominations had been decaying for centuries when they’d seen them, but long ago, each and all were must’ve looked as cohesive as these twenty-seven heroes of ages past.

Alongside the emperor of the southron elven empire that had elevated them into a hegemony, there was the great Archchief that had once united the human tribes of the Burnt Desert, alongside a zombified wyvern that he had apparently created himself—Durran was rather shocked to learn the Archchief was a necromancer.

There was Felipe I, Vasquer’s mate and father to those that founded the kingdom Argrave ruled. There was the last emperor of the first imperial bloodline of the Great Chu, who Garm insisted was considerably better than the founder. The founder of the Order of the Rose already had a few undead servants at his disposal, and insisted upon the reinstation of his organization. The founder of the Order of the Gray Owl threatened to walk if Argrave reinstated said organization.

Those were merely the sung heroes. Plenty of other unsung heroes, whose deeds had made and broken the greatest empires of old, had been brought back to life. They were every bit as forceful as the great leaders—perhaps even more so. None of them truly denied Argrave’s right to lead, fortunately, but their service was conditional. Just as they had in their first lives, they hoped to leave a long-lasting mark. Argrave became the instrument of their change. He was pulled about like a stretch toy between these juggernauts.

In the end, the first conversation was an utterly disorganized disaster, where nothing got done besides learning who Garm had brought back. Their resumes were certainly up to snuff for their roles, but the idea of making some of these people work together was extremely thin. Some were calling for the genocide of peoples they had fought against—and Argrave said ‘some’ because it was more than one person. Racial tensions were extremely high between some parties.

Amidst this crisis, Argrave thought of what Ji Meng had advised him about. He had asked the emperor how he might win back the loyalty of his siblings, and mend the cracks in the foundation of Vasquer. And to that end, he made a prudent suggestion.

“Giving a show of faith, a show of goodwill, can earn you a great deal. It can’t be forced, can’t be inorganic. You have to be patient. A chance will come, as it did for me.”

And remembering that… there was only one place that Argrave could turn to.

“I need your help really damn bad,” Argrave said, looking between all of those assembled.

The group here wasn’t entirely dissimilar from the composition of the lottery that he had held, and that wasn’t a coincidence. Elenore and Anneliese were who he needed chiefly, but each of these people were impressive problem-solvers on their own. Melanie had shown incredible loyalty and decisiveness, remaining unwavering even before Sataistador and saving everyone’s lives on multiple occasions. Galamon had always been Galamon—a steadfast wall that could always be relied upon.

Those of House Parbon were here: Elias and Reinhardt. Nikoletta and her father, Duke Enrico, had also joined them. Ganbaatar, envoy for those in the Bloodwoods, was showing his support. The Archduchess of the North and her sister Vasilisa were poised to help. Patriarch Dras and Emperor Ji Meng had come from the Great Chu. Orion had not yet ended his leave of absence, but he had agreed to take part in this conversation.

Raven, Durran, Artur, Stain, Rowe… everyone Argrave thought reliable and even-tempered was here, each of them one of the greatest living people of this generation. He might’ve involved the gods, but they wouldn’t have to live with the consequences. Each and all by his side today, would.  

“If I talk to them out there, I’m outnumbered and outgunned. These people are some of the greatest leaders that the world has ever seen—and me, I can barely even claim to be their equal without cringing at the notion.” Argrave shook his head. “I need your help in the negotiation, otherwise, I’ll get steamrolled. We need to be a cohesive front. To that end, I’m wiling to give all of you substantial authority in speaking to these people.”

“How substantial?” Rowe questioned suspiciously.

“What you promise to them… I’ll do,” Argrave vowed. “All of you are doubtlessly aware that what happens today will echo for the rest of this kingdom’s existence. To that end, I trust that all of you will make the right calls today. You have, time and time again—that’s why you’re here, and that’s why I can rely on you.”

It was an immense display of trust in the people that Argrave considered his counsel—and that display didn’t go unnoticed among those present, who seemed affected one and all. Except Raven—frankly, he didn’t look like he cared one way or another.

“Well… I’ll need to interrogate you,” Elenore said. “I need to know what each one of these people is like. Once we have that, I understand the kingdom better than anyone—we can work out a detailed plan of action for everyone present.”

Anneliese nodded in agreement with a smile as she looked upon Elenore.

“Perfect. Let’s handle that right away,” he suggested. “The rest of you—speak amongst yourself, build some synergies. My sister and I will be back shortly.”

“Longly,” she disagreed at once. “We need to proceed with caution.”

“In the meantime—Orion. If you’re willing, can I count on you to keep an eye on the assembled parties? Preferably walking among them, so you can hear what they’re talking about.” Argrave gestured at his brother. “Someone else can handle it if you need more time, but there’s no one I trust more to remain undaunted in front of all those people.”

Orion stared at Argrave, then slowly nodded. “Very well, Your Majesty. I would be honored.”

With a weight lifted off his shoulders, Argrave walked to Orion and patted his shoulder. He cast a glance at Ji Meng, who gave him a knowing gaze and smile. It seemed he knew his advice was taken. Of everyone here, he was most worried about the former sole ruler of the Great Chu. At the same time, he knew no one better to achieve the results he wanted. Ji Meng might be counted among those dead people returned had Argrave taken his life.

With these people… perhaps the great heroes of old could be tamed.

#####

“The Council of the Living and Dead.” Llewellen read the brochure. “Your king is rather bold for publicizing something like this. He’s rather conveniently left out the necromancy involved. He seems the type to take shortcuts.”

Onychinusa brushed her long white hair. “He’s not my king. I should be an empress. We’re just allies.”

“Of course.” Llewellen put the brochure down, and smiled at her.

“Are you laughing at me?” she asked.

“Admiring,” he said simply.

She said nothing in response, but her brush moved faster through her hair in what might be described as embarrassment. Then, there was a knock at the door.

“Come in,” Llewellen called out.

Onychinusa looked annoyed at him, and briefly cast a glance at the door before preparing to dissipate into magic and vanish. But the figure who entered brought her pose, and she dropped the brush she held.

A tan-skinned elf with large, long ears, tan skin, and white hair entered, looking about the room before settling on Onychinusa. The woman stayed paralyzed beneath his amber eyes. He approached with his hands behind his back, stopping just before her. He stayed quiet for a long while, staring down with a stern gaze.

“You look like your mother,” he said.

Emperor Balzat brought one hand forward, but Onychinusa flinched away and he withdrew it with a slightly guilty expression. He looked at Llewellen, then back at his granddaughter. Holding his gaze steady, he fell to one knee.

“Onychinusa… I’m sorry.” He dipped his head. She blinked in confusion. “The empire I built was not enough to protect us. I dare not ask for forgiveness, but I must apologize. To you. To all of us. Because of me, we fell victim to Erlebnis. You, most of all.”

Onychinusa clenched her hands into fists… then burst into magic, disappearing. Balzat looked around in confusion.

“Her A-rank ascension,” Llewellen explained. “Your granddaughter is as talented as you were, Balzat, if a bit… impulsive.”

The emperor lifted his head. “I cannot claim to be talented when all I built turned to ash after I passed.”

“I was calling you talented.” Llewellen shook his head. “What we call ourselves matters little, anymore.”

“It’s good to see you, Llewellen, even with present circumstances.” The emperor rose back to his feet. “I inquired about you often when you disappeared, but… I didn’t know how you’d died.”

“Few enough did.” Llewellen gestured to the chair. “Stay a while, please. Perhaps your granddaughter will return. In the meantime, I’d love to know what you’ve heard about this Council of the Living and Dead.”

“It’s largely jockeying over pointless matters.” The emperor pulled back his chair. “I believe most do not believe just how much leverage King Argrave has. I’ve met his close council—they’ll help demonstrate Vasquer’s supremacy. My sole concern is my granddaughter.”

“She has many burdens, yet she is wonderful all the same,” Llewellen praised unabashedly. “She turned her back on Erlebnis, after all, and lived to tell the tale. Not just anyone can do that. And she has wonderful people by her side.”

“Like you?”

Llewellen shook his head. “I’m a passing boat on the sea, nothing more. We’re both fated to pass her by, while she is fated to be the last of our race.”

“There is still opportunity,” Balzat disagreed. “Reviving the race.”

Llewellen put his hands on the table. “I suspect I might dislike what you’re thinking of.”

“No, I won’t do anything outlandish. I know my role in this play, unlike others. I’ll cooperate with Argrave. But…” he sighed. “Gone. They’re all gone. All of them, to the last. None of our culture persists. And yet I’m here. What does it mean? What is one supposed to do?”

“I suggest you use the time to be a positive influence on Onychinusa’s life, and this kingdom. That is my intention.”

Balzat stared at his hands intensely. Then, he nodded.

“Insightful as always. I had similar thoughts.” Balzat looked out the window, where the stars shone. “I intend to give this kingdom the largest gift it’ll ever receive.”