"Kufufufu, as expected from the first secretary, Shion-san. You are right."
Diablo's sinister chuckle filled the room.
"Right? Then why are they bothering us? If they can't ignore us, shouldn't they just cooperate and work with us to promote our image anyway??" Shion continued, folding her arms with a hint of frustration.
Surprisingly, her words were sharp this time—not just a lucky guess. She had genuinely understood the situation. And the point she made struck at the same doubt Atem himself held. Diablo, however, was already ready with his answer.
"Creatures such as human beings are truly remarkable," Diablo said, voice smooth and venom-laced. "They cannot survive without
cooperation, yet they divide themselves into castes to determine each other's worth. And when groups meet, they clash again to prove who is stronger. The weak, the pathetic, are always afraid their own rights and properties will be damaged. And as for this time—"
"Hmm," Atem interjected, his tone calm but heavy with presence. "Perhaps our opponents fear that Atem-sama will threaten the circle of co-existence within the council?"
"Indeed," Diablo replied immediately, lowering his head slightly in reverence.
Diablo's explanation was simple but precise. And it made sense. The moment his words landed, Atem's lieutenants began to realize the bigger picture. Some of them clenched their fists, their anger building beneath the surface. Diablo, however, only smiled wider—dangerously pleased by the idea.
"How laughable," Diablo hissed. "These ignorant rulers reject reason itself. They refuse to accept the benevolence of Atem-sama. It is best to kill them all."
And of course, Shion agreed in a heartbeat. "Yes! Let's just cut through the trouble."
"Hehe, I see the second secretary shares the same view," Atem said dryly, resting his chin on his hand.
There went all his earlier praise for her. Shion's nature hadn't changed at all. Atem's sharp gaze immediately silenced the two.
"I'm not permitting any of this," Atem stated. His voice didn't need to rise. Authority coated each word like steel. Shion and Diablo straightened, regret clear on their faces. They were deadly loyal but entirely too eager to fight at the wrong time.
Souei broke the tension, his voice quiet but steady. "Anyhow, we cannot leave this unattended. Shall I run an investigation on the previous employers of these merchants in detail?"
Atem considered this carefully. It was a logical move, but not now. "That's also important," he finally replied, his tone deliberate. "But we should sit on it for now. By the way, Myourmiles… what's the deadline of the payment? Have you come up with any good ideas?"
Myourmiles adjusted himself, still visibly tense. "Indeed. They seemed to enjoy the celebration and said they were willing to wait until the next day after the end of the Founding Festival. My friends also tried persuading them, but they said that's as much time as they can spare—"
The next day after the end of the celebration. It was only the first day now. That gave them three days in total. The clock was ticking.
"Right now," Myourmiles continued, "my friends are gathering money for us. Although we will take some losses, they are exchanging the ancient kingdom's gold coins for dwarven ones. But whether we can mobilize enough cash in time… is still unknown."
Atem leaned back slightly, fingers tapping the arm of his chair. His gaze was razor-sharp—piercing through the problem like a blade. The situation was tightening.
The lieutenants could use "Dimension Transportation" to reduce time, but sending them out in haste might just be what their enemies wanted. It was dangerous to scatter their strength when the festival wasn't even over.
He thought quickly. The Beast Kingdom's gold bars came to mind. I could replicate coins from those bars. Atem's magic was precise, powerful—creating perfect duplicates wouldn't be hard for him.
But then he frowned. No… this wasn't a problem brute force could solve.
«Answer. The viability of said solution is zero. Each dwarven gold coin is enchanted with Engravement Magic. They're strictly regulated with serial numbers. Counterfeits will be exposed immediately.»
Atem drew out a coin from his storage space and examined it. His golden eyes traced the engraved runes. It wasn't a simple stamp—it was a magical seal. If two identical coins existed, it would be proof of forgery.
In his homeland of the dead, counterfeiting currency would've cost a man his head. Here, they had bound law and magic to make it impossible.
"If we can't counterfeit, there's probably no way we can buy back…" he said flatly.
The room fell silent.
"Then, even though we'll take losses," Benimaru offered, "can't we just use the massive amount of gold bars we already have to start off with?"
"Any smart merchant will likely agree to the proposal," Myourmiles cut in sharply. "But I'm totally against it."
Atem raised a brow. "Why?"
"It will become our weakness," Myourmiles explained. "In future trades with other nations, they'll use this as leverage. They'll think, 'Even if we corner Eterna, they'll pay their way out.' They'll never treat us as equals. They'll cover it up in contracts, but it will be there, hanging over us forever."
His wry smile didn't hide the seriousness of his words. Myourmiles knew the heart of merchants—because he was one of them. If Eterna showed a soft underbelly, they'd be devoured.
Atem's jaw tightened slightly, but he nodded once. He understood all too well. "I see."
"There are still two days left," Atem declared, rising from his seat. His commanding voice filled the room instantly. "We will use this time wisely. Those celebrating are not conservative with spending. If they bring their wealth into our land, then we will use it to fill the gap. Work hard. Bring it in."
"Understood," they all replied at once, their voices echoing like soldiers awaiting orders from a king.
The meeting's tension eased just slightly as Myourmiles exhaled. His burden had not disappeared, but Atem's absolute confidence had steadied the room. That was the difference—when Atem spoke, everyone believed him.
The Council might be testing Eterna, might be plotting from the shadows—but Atem would meet them head-on. Whether they were enemies or merely cowards testing his patience, they would learn one truth:
Eterna bows to no one.