A quiet land, pure grass, and a few butterflies flying aimlessly. In the middle of this green field stood a small, pristine dome. Inside the dome sat a girl with long, cool violet hair. She was reading a book peacefully. Her dress swayed gently as she sat in a wheelchair. After a while, a child in noble clothes ran toward her, with a white cat chasing after him.
"Lemia, a group of people from another kingdom has arrived."
"Really?" the girl replied as she closed her book and stood up.
She took the child's hand, and together they left the large garden and headed toward another place—a grand palace. A palace with golden accents and many people around it. It was clearly one of the royal palaces. In fact, this was the palace of Berhol, king of the small kingdom of Talvan, which bordered Deryal to the north and Yarum to the northwest.
But what would be Talvan's fate in this war? And would it become one of the participants? Lemia, daughter of King Berhol, continued walking with her little brother until they arrived. That's when they saw everything—inside the palace were a group of strangers. Their formal clothing was different from the attire of Talvan, clearly indicating they were from another kingdom.
"King Berhol, we are here on orders from our king, and we request a simple conversation," said a bald man wearing long robe-like garments.
"Please leave and wait for the king's decision," responded one of the knights, standing in front of Berhol, who sat upon his throne.
"Of course, take your time."
After that, the bald man and a few others dressed like him left the palace and climbed into their carriage, heading elsewhere to await a signal to enter. The carriage departed, and at that moment, some palace knights began to move. It was clear they were following the carriage.
"This is an insult," muttered a man as he stroked his beard.
"Calm down. Their reaction is understandable. It's the first time a diplomat from Deryal has entered Talvan—and during a time of war, no less. Naturally, they won't welcome us with open arms. Besides, this is actually a good sign. Now we know Talvan has no alliance with Yarum," replied the bald man.
"Sir Simon, there are several knights following us."
"Let them. They're just verifying our destination," answered the bald man—Simon—apparently the diplomat in charge of this mission.
Three days earlier.
The sun shone brightly—but this time over another kingdom. The kingdom of freedom and hope: Deryal. Most of its people were demi-humans, with a few other races. In a peaceful area stood another palace, just as grand—a royal palace like those found throughout the continent. Draped from it were flags: a red background with a black crown—the symbol of Deryal.
Inside the palace, the knights stood in formation, all waiting in silence. On top of a red carpet knelt the bald Simon before a throne. It was a large, red-and-gold throne. Sitting on it was a muscular man in tight clothing that emphasized his build. His hair was red, just like his eyes. He wore an earring and several golden accessories. His face was fierce, with black lightning-like tattoos beneath his eyes and similar tattoos on his large arms. This was Gerard—the current king of Deryal.
"Your Majesty Gerard, what is the mission?" Simon asked respectfully.
"You haven't achieved anything significant in recent years," Gerard replied coldly.
"I'm sorry for that, Your Majesty," the bald man answered, bowing even lower.
"I'll give you one last chance. Listen... your mission is to convince Berhol to form an alliance with us. If you fail, consider yourself unemployed," Gerard said.
"I'll do everything I can."
"Leave."
After this order, Simon left. A girl with cat ears and a sharp gaze stepped forward. Her long brown hair flowed down her back, and her clothes were luxurious. She walked to the same spot where Simon had knelt and knelt herself. It seemed important figures had to wait their turn to speak to Gerard—a strange form of organization, unlike how things were run in Yarum.
"Your Majesty, we received reports from the border. I've passed them to the analysts," said the demi-human girl before leaving.
After she left, another demi-human stepped forward—this time a man with round ears. When he reached the designated spot, he knelt and spoke like the others: "We need more warriors at the border. We've heard that Yarum is finally making a move. And also, Your Majesty, I'm sorry, but this queuing system delays the delivery of urgent news. It would be better if we formed a council like the other kingdoms."
"A council? That will never happen. No one on this continent has the right to sit in the same place I sit in," Gerard replied coldly.
That was Gerard—a man who sat on his throne while others stood or knelt. Apparently, no one had the right to sit if he was seated. He was one of the major players in this war, and in many eyes, the one who started it in the first place. Gerard the Lion, the Mighty, the God of Pride—many titles for one man. But now, let's see how things unfold in three days.
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Simon's POV
I can't lose my job... This is my last chance. I've made a fortune. I'm forty, bald, not a single hair on my head or face. Ugly. Skinny. No woman would ever accept me if I lost my status and wealth. I'd become a beggar roaming the streets. I have to do anything to convince that damned king.
Yes, anything! Because like I said—this is my last shot, and I'm not letting it go easily. I'll do whatever it takes. If I succeed, that muscle-bound bastard will see the true power of Simon, the best diplomat in the kingdom. Not just him—all of you will see who I really am, and what I'm capable of... But what if I fail...? I'll lose everything. Even... even Erla... No. No, I don't want that!!
"Sir Simon, it's been a while since we've been wandering around. Should we head back?"
"Yes, let's go back," I replied.
Alright, now all that's left is heading to the palace. I hope the king refuses to let us in... No, you idiot! That would be considered a failure. This is the diplomat's job—to convince them, even if they refuse entry. Damn it. Years of comfort and sex have dulled me. I don't even remember the basics anymore. But still—I've got no role in this... What if they force us out? What am I supposed to do then, fight? Hell nah.
After a while, we finally reached the palace. The place was just like before—everyone inside, with a few knights lined up at the gates. We stepped down from the carriage and approached. No one kicked us out yet. Good—it seems he hasn't decided to expel us. We advanced until we entered the palace, and there he was—that damned king, sitting in front of me. That beard of his. Fat, with a massive round head and a golden crown resting on it. Damn you.
Ugh, how I hate kings. They enjoy an easy life just because they were born kings... I swear, if I ever became king, I wouldn't give the throne to my son. I'd give it to whoever passes the toughest test. No easy life, you bastard. Food, drink, shelter, whores—you've got everything. Damn all of you.
"After some consideration, His Majesty has decided to allow the diplomat to speak," one of the knights announced.
Yes! Suddenly, some knights approached me and asked me to step forward. I stood directly before the throne, gave a slight bow, then looked into the eyes of the fat old king sitting in front of me. I'd heard he was the wisest man on the continent. Convincing him was going to be tough. Well then, we now have a battle between the greatest sage... and a skinny bald man who enjoys sleeping with fat women.
"First of all, thank you very much for accepting me," I said.
He remained silent. Alright, what should I say? Should I go straight to the point? No way. I have to ease into it with lots of words—words that get him used to listening, words that help him adjust to my voice. This will be the start of everything. The first sentence is the first strike for a diplomat.
"As Your Majesty knows, our kingdom is struggling to achieve freedom, and help from the nearest kingdom is what we need to ease this suffering."
"Achieve freedom?" Berhol asked.
"The freedom of the demi-humans suffering in Yarum, and their families waiting for them in Deryal."
As I answered, someone coughed in the distance. Good! He executed the task perfectly. I learned this trick a while ago—when someone is talking and there's noise around, it makes you focus harder on listening. That's exactly what I just did. On the way here, I asked one of my companions to cough loudly when I mentioned the freedom of demi-humans, just to carve that idea into Berhol's mind. I'll need it later.
"Sounds like the demi-humans in Deryal are annoying. They're asking to free their relatives in Yarum, aren't they?"
"Exactly. But we don't see that as an annoyance. One of Deryal's mottos is freedom, and we'll lose that motto if we don't fulfill it. I hope you understand this, Your Wisdom."
"Don't be ridiculous. We all know this war is driven by political ambition, far removed from any noble goal of freeing the demi-humans. That's just a convenient excuse to mask the true intentions, isn't it?"
What should I do now?... I mean, I could reply easily, but should I answer harshly or gently? If I respond too harshly, will he get angry? He is wise, after all... No, no, my answer would be childish. I'll reply gently, then. I need to prove Deryal's goodness and noble goals. Time to deliver a divine performance in lying.
"I deeply apologize, Your Majesty. I know many major kingdoms use such tactics, but Deryal, along with other kingdoms like Centarla, aims to uphold its values first—those same noble principles reflected in its mottos. We harbor no vile intentions, as you say. I know many won't believe that, and I don't speak with evidence. I'm simply stating what I've witnessed in my years of working as a diplomat."
"If your principles come first, then why did you break the peace treaty with Yarum?"Damn it! I knew he'd ask something like that.
"We know that wasn't noble at all... But unfortunately, protests escalated in the capital, and we couldn't hold back. Also, we sent many letters requesting Yarum to return the demi-humans to us, and yet we received no reply."
"Alright, involving another kingdom in a war isn't easy. So what does your kingdom offer in return for this alliance?" he asked. Of course he'd ask for something. He's like any greedy king in this world.
"Of course! We've gained support from other kingdoms, but none agreed to help us with troops. So we decided to ally with a unique kingdom like yours—Deryal. A kingdom with a very strategic position for this war. Naturally, this special role won't come without reward... In this war, we'll share any lands we conquer with you."
"So you're saying we have the right to take half the lands we conquer together?"
"Exactly."
"And where are the principles in that? Wasn't your goal to free the demi-humans only? Funny how quickly goals can change," he replied with a light chuckle.
You bastard!! What should I do now? Should I unleash the treasure I buried? But he unleashed it on his own... Damn it, damn it, damn it. He's not an easy opponent, just as I expected. Can't you just ally with us already? It's not that deep, fatass. Just a simple alliance. Or are you afraid of losing?... Alright then—I got you.
"Sorry, but it's impossible for Deryal to forgive a kingdom that ignored it like that. Every action has consequences. And besides, our victory is guaranteed, so we can't be too generous with conquered lands."
"Your victory is guaranteed?"
"Yes. As I said, we have supporters, and all of them are united by the same goal—the one I mentioned earlier: freeing the demi-humans. When allies fight for the same cause, their power multiplies. Also, Yarum is already struggling with Diablos. Their chances of winning are nonexistent."
What now? I'm sure he now sees Deryal as a righteous kingdom. I've also shown him how weak Yarum is. There's no chance he'll say no. Alright, what's his answer going to be?... At that moment, my heart started pounding hard. That had never happened before, even though I've spoken to many kings before. But this time is different... Oh right—I almost forgot... This conversation will decide the future of my life.
"Alright, the offer is good. So there's no harm in forming an alliance," he muttered as he rose from his throne.
"I, Berhol Vionsis, declare an alliance with the Kingdom of Deryal!" he proclaimed loudly after standing up. Yes! Yes! Yes! A perfect victory!!!
"It is an honor to fight alongside you," I replied as I bowed. That's when everyone started clapping.
Alright, I pulled it off. I achieved a perfect victory. I convinced him. My goddess, I didn't even know I was this much of a genius, even after all this time. Now I must celebrate in the best way possible. Happiness is such a crazy feeling... What will that bastard king's reaction be?... I did it!!! I preserved everything I had!!! Another victory accomplished!! I'm so incredibly happy—I want to dance like a madman!!!
"The bald man has defeated the sage."