Milim broke the flow of the meeting at just the right moment.
"It's a good time, so I have something to report."
Her voice carried its usual confidence, but this time there was an edge to it—something deliberate. I turned my attention to her, signaling for her to continue.
"Actually," Milim said, "Obera, one of the Three Phantom Commanders, has approached me. She wishes to side with us. The meeting was conducted in complete secrecy—Feldway and the others should not be aware of it."
For a brief moment, I did not respond.
Not because I was careless—but because the information required precise handling.
"I see," I said at last.
Guy spoke at the same time as I did.
"As expected of you, Milim. How did you manage that?"
"Obera wasn't narrow-minded like Cornu," I added, my tone calm but firm. "She was disciplined. Serious. Someone like her doesn't defect without reason. Explain."
Guy and I exchanged a glance.
No words were needed.
We were thinking the same thing.
Deception was possible.
Milim laughed lightly. "She understood my strength. That's all."
That answer alone meant nothing.
"Don't get ahead of yourself," Guy said sharply. "This could be an enemy stratagem."
"It's fine," Milim replied without hesitation. "She wasn't lying."
I did not accept that at face value.
"There is an ancient tactic," I said, my voice steady, "often referred to as poison burial. You send a trusted piece into the enemy camp to rot it from within. Contacting us now, on the brink of war, naturally invites suspicion."
Milim did not flinch.
"I thought the same," she said. "That's why I discussed it with Karion and Frey. All three of us reached the same conclusion. Obera can be trusted."
That changed the situation.
Milim was not reckless when it mattered. And Karion and Frey were not naïve judges.
"Then tell us," I said. "What exactly did Obera say?"
Milim explained in detail.
When she finished, Guy spoke first.
"Obera is stationed at the Palace of Monsters, monitoring Ivarage, the World-Destroying Dragon. That binds her completely."
I nodded slowly.
Ivarage was not a tool.
He was a catastrophe sealed in place.
"If Obera makes the wrong move," Guy continued, "Ivarage could awaken. That alone prevents her from acting freely."
That logic was sound.
Still, one concern remained.
"If Feldway is truly prepared to let the world burn," I said, "then why wouldn't he unleash Ivarage on us?"
The reaction was immediate—and negative.
"That line of thinking is flawed," Luminas said sharply.
Dagruel shook his head. "Feldway is not foolish enough to release a being stronger and more uncontrollable than himself."
Guy's expression darkened. "That thing nearly tore the planet apart last time. I stopped it—but barely."
Dagruel added gravely, "Ivarage's power can shatter stars if mishandled."
I understood then.
Total destruction was meaningless if there was nothing left to rule.
"I see," I said quietly.
Milim suddenly laughed. "If it comes to that, I'll handle Ivarage myself."
"No."
"Rejected."
"Absolutely not."
The refusal came from all sides at once.
Guy's voice cut through the room—cold, final.
"If Ivarage awakens, I will deal with him. Next time, I end it permanently."
No one challenged him.
Not even Milim.
The discussion returned to Obera.
"Did you extract intelligence?" Dagruel asked.
"I asked," Milim replied. "She doesn't know much. Feldway keeps his forces isolated. Asking too many questions would have exposed her."
"That matches Feldway's nature," Guy said. "He doesn't want subordinates thinking. He wants obedience."
"If Obera were lying," I said, "she would have fed us convenient falsehoods. Her ignorance makes her more credible."
I paused briefly before continuing.
"A man who views everyone as expendable pieces," I said, "inevitably believes himself infallible."
Guy smirked slightly. "Was that aimed at me?"
"No," I answered immediately. "It wasn't."
And it wasn't.
"For now," I concluded, "we observe. Obera is provisionally trusted. Nothing more."
The room agreed.
With that settled, I returned to the core issue.
"This meeting has taken too many detours," I said. "If there are no further hidden variables, we proceed."
Several voices answered at once.
"You're the last person who should say that."
That was fair.
I let it pass.
Luminas took control of the meeting then, her tone sharp and organized.
"Very well. I will summarize the enemy forces."
She laid them out clearly.
At the top was Michael, commanding absolute authority. Under him stood Velzard, the Frost Dragon.
Then came Phantom King Feldway, with Zalario under his command.
There were also the Insectar, monitored by Zalario, and their ruler—Insect Lord Zelanus.
That name alone made me wary.
Every Insectar I had encountered was monstrously powerful. Zelanus himself was dangerous—but his subordinates were likely just as lethal.
Finally, Luminas spoke of the most troubling possibility.
"Undead elves serving as vessels for incarnated angels—beings that could rival us. The only unknown is their number."
"That's already more than enough," Luminas said. "We should focus on countermeasures."
Leon spoke next.
"Do we assign opponents in advance?"
"It would be best," Dagruel said, "if Leon never engages Michael directly."
I agreed.
"Michael's authority can be transferred," I said. "And Feldway has likely borrowed that power. Leon must be kept away from both."
Luminas clicked her tongue. "If Leon were taken, the balance would collapse."
Then I remembered something else.
"Leon isn't the only one who was at risk."
Luminas turned sharply. "Explain."
"Veldora was once placed under enemy control," I said.
The room went silent.
I explained Regalia Dominion—Michael's power of absolute command—and how it had been used.
When I finished, the reaction was immediate.
"You were the one who asked if anyone had more secrets," Luminas said coldly.
I exhaled.
"That… may have been poorly phrased."
No one defended me.
I accepted that.
The meeting moved on.
The board was no longer hidden.
The pieces were exposed.
And as the King of Games, I now knew exactly how this war would be played.
The irritation among the Demon Lords was becoming obvious.
Managing the atmosphere was more difficult than expected—not because of disorder, but because the truth itself was heavy. Powerful beings do not like being reminded that the odds are stacked against them.
Still, I forced the discussion back to its core.
And when I did, the situation revealed itself as even more dire than it first appeared.
If our strength was reduced, then the enemy's strength would increase. Not symbolically—literally. Fallen pieces would return to their board. It was like a shogi match where only one side could reuse captured pieces. A condition under which victory was almost unthinkable.
My failure to explain this earlier was my responsibility. But that did not make it easier for them to accept.
A voice cut through the tension.
"So… there is no one here being controlled by Regalia Dominion?"
I answered immediately, without hesitation.
"There is no such individual present."
I let my gaze sweep the room before continuing.
"Control through angelic Skills shows no obvious subjective symptoms. However, Regalia Dominion is different. It is absolute enforcement. When it succeeds, the ego collapses. Thought becomes unnatural. Behavior turns hollow."
A pause.
"And to be clear," I added, my tone sharpening, "Veldora was never controlled by Regalia Dominion."
That drew attention.
"He was inside the Labyrinth when Velgrynd and Rudra came to Eterna," I continued. "Completely isolated. The only one who faced them—was me."
No one interrupted.
"There was no takeover. No liberation. No recovery. The enemy never achieved dominion over him."
Luminas studied me closely. "Then the earlier assumption—"
"Was incorrect," I said flatly. "The enemy attempted interference elsewhere. Not domination. Regalia Dominion never took hold."
That closed the matter.
Luminas exhaled. "Then the threat is clearer than we thought. If we can identify domination when it occurs, it is no longer an invisible weapon."
"Exactly," I replied. "Which means the question is no longer who is controlled—but how we move when they strike."
Guy nodded once. "Agreed. They won't scatter their forces. They'll move decisively."
"And when they do," I said, "we must be able to respond immediately."
That brought us to the real problem.
"We're spread across the world," Dagruel muttered. "Do we gather in one place?"
"No," I answered instantly.
Guy agreed. "That would invite disaster."
Each of us ruled territory that could not be abandoned.
I would defend Eterna.
Leon would remain in El Dorado.
Luminas would protect Lubelius.
Dagruel and Milim likewise.
"In the worst case," Dagruel said, "retreat may be necessary."
"As a last resort only," Luminas snapped. "And don't even think about claiming my land."
Dagruel grinned. "I'll think about it."
I ignored them and turned to Guy.
"And you?"
"I have no territory binding me," he replied. "I'll remain near Leon."
Leon stiffened slightly, but said nothing.
It was the correct decision. Leon remained the most delicate variable. Guy's presence ensured stability.
That was when Guy spoke again.
"Atem. You can afford it. Send reinforcements—to Luminas, Dagruel, Milim, and Leon."
I stared at him.
"…You're serious."
"I am."
I resisted. Firmly. Repeatedly.
It didn't matter.
Guy was immovable—and pressing the issue further would waste time we didn't have.
So I yielded.
"Very well," I said. "But I decide who goes."
Now came the real test.
Who could be sent anywhere, operate independently, resist domination, teleport freely, and survive alone if necessary?
The answer was obvious.
The Primordials.
However, Testarossa was already coordinating imperial affairs. That left Carrera and Ultima, along with several executives.
"First," I said, "Geld to Milim. Reconstruction must continue, and he's trusted there."
Milim nodded eagerly. "Perfect. And Midray wants to train with Gabil again."
"That works," I said. "Gabil will go as well. Ultima will supervise."
Decision made.
Next—Lubelius.
I turned to Luminas. "Any preference?"
She considered carefully.
"Shion."
As expected.
"I'll send Shion," I agreed. "And Adalmann, with his retinue."
Luminas smiled faintly. "Accepted."
Next—Dagruel.
"I'll send Carrera."
The reaction was immediate.
"No."
Dagruel shot to his feet. "Absolutely not."
Leon nodded. "I second that."
Carrera's reputation spoke for itself.
Dagruel described Damargania—an eroding holy void, fragile ruins buried in sand. To him, Carrera was an apocalyptic liability.
"She's not that bad," I said.
"She is," Dagruel snapped.
Even Leon agreed.
Reluctantly, I adjusted.
"Then Carrera goes to Leon."
Leon exploded.
"No."
Guy intervened immediately. "You can't send her to me. She keeps provoking fights. This is war, not sport."
That settled it.
Then Milim laughed.
"I'll take her."
I paused. "You're certain?"
"Of course."
Problem resolved.
Carrera to Milim.
Ultima to Dagruel.
Dagruel protested—but was overruled.
Finally, El Dorado remained.
Guy would already be there.
I had no intention of weakening Eterna further.
Benimaru was suggested.
Rejected instantly.
"He's newly married. Both wives are expecting. Absolutely not."
Then—
"Diablo," I said.
Guy stiffened.
I ignored it.
"He's sufficient alone."
Guy glared, then clicked his tongue.
"…Fine. I'll endure him."
That was victory.
Leon spoke next. "If you wish, you may visit El Dorado later."
I nodded. "I will, when circumstances allow."
With that, the pieces were placed.
Reinforcements assigned.
Territories secured.
Lines of response established.
The war had not yet begun.
But the board was complete.
And this time—
The King would not hesitate.