Following the events of Imuru's meeting with Huln and the unexpected battle against Zazarah—three days had gone by.
Now, Imuru sat underneath the new construct in his yard to relax leisurely; his body might've been able to do so, but his mind not so much.
Occupying the space that had once been open grass was a masterpiece of curvilinear design: a white-washed pavilion that seemed to float atop its low stone base, as if the earth had exhaled and this was what remained. Four arched pillars bent gracefully inward, curving like the ribs of a great beast, supporting a roof that culminated in a flat top crowned with an ogive spire a shape both elegant and otherworldly.
Around it, well-groomed flowers bloomed in careful arrangements, pale blues, soft purples, the occasional pop of crimson. Benches curved along the pavilion's edges, inviting rest, conversation, or simply the quiet company of one's own thoughts.
A place for many purposes.
Today, it held a heavy purpose.
Imuru was reading a book, awaiting the arrival of his important guests.
"Lord Imuru!"
A voice called out to him, familiar, bright, edged with warmth. It was Rack, the village chieftain from the Hobgoblin village Imuru had assisted on his journey to Huln. The Hobgoblin carried a heavy gleaming smile on his smile, and from the easy way he held himself, it was clear he was adjusting to life in the town quite well.
"Oy, Rack." Imuru smiled, closing his book with a soft thump and uncrossing his legs. He leaned forward slightly, elbows on his knees. "How are the hobgoblins doing?"
Then, his expression shifted. He pressed his lips then, squinted his eyes… just a little and his voice dropped into something ominous.
"You haven't come across anything... troubling... have you?"
"Aha ha ha ha." Rack laughed, almost nervously, his shoulders hitching with the sound. "No need to worry, Lord Imuru. The Dark Deviders have been quite open to us."
⟨Wonderful~...⟩ The sound of Rack's words was heavenly music to Imuru's ears. His posture naturally relaxed, his body leaning backward into the seat. "Glad to hear it."
From his pockets, Rack reached in and withdrew the item Imuru had given him before. "We are forever grateful." He handed over the compass.
"Ow." Imuru accepted the compass with a somewhat surprised expression on his face. He held it up by its string, a warm smile slowly creasing his lips. "Right… slipped my mind."
"You're hosting a meeting today, Lord Imuru?" Rack inquired.
"Hmm." Imuru looked at Rack with curiosity. "That's the reason for the excess security. Can't have anyone interrupting," Imuru replied back to Rack, giving his answer plainly.
Thanking Imuru for his time Rack bowed then took his leave, leaving Imuru to himself and his thoughts. With that, he opened back the Grimoire he was actively reading, falling right back into a reading trance.
⟨Barriers are complicated…⟩ he mused. ⟨No wonder Belzora struggled to break them down. Even the simple ones can be infused with a fascinating, or annoying—mixture of properties.⟩ He flipped the page, his face a mask of detached indifference. ⟨Not that I ever use them.⟩ He paused, a new thought taking root.
⟨Then again, I've never considered having one of my own. It would certainly round out my capabilities.⟩ His thoughts darkened.
⟨Hmph. After what happened, shutting down the underground operations was the only choice. Better safe than sorry. Until I can shatter that barrier and clear out whatever is lurking beyond, everything stays frozen.⟩
The thought of his enemy shattered his focus. Imuru's indifferent facade cracked, a flash of genuine worry tightening his features.
He swallowed hard, the words on the page blurring as his mind dragged him back to the blood and chaos of the battlefield with Zazarah. Spurred by a sudden spike of adrenaline, Imuru surged out of his chair. He began to pace the floor, forcing air into his lungs in a desperate bid to steady his racing heart.
"Great Lord."
A voice reached him, clearing his mind of its immediate fog. Imuru checked himself, before he turned his body to the voice; it was Huln.
Imuru threw on a smile. "H-Huln. You're early. Hmph?"
"Mannerisms." Huln took his seat. "Aren't we technically the host?"
"We are…" Imuru laughed forcibly, returning to his seat. "Good manners. Your time here; are you enjoying it?"
"Joy. That would be the word," Huln replied back in a reminiscent tone. "I have become… great friends with the Great Wolf. His tales are the utmost fascinating."
⟨Great friends?⟩ "He's amazing isn't he?" Imuru with alacrity.
"Your friends are quite the characters themselves," Huln put out abruptly, which sparked a worry in Imuru immediately.
"Erm." Imuru narrowed his eyes. He did explain everything to the group about their new companion, but he already knew deep down they'd act a certain way when he's not looking.
"Huln—"
"Ire's daughter is trying to claim me for herself. I believe her aggressive warning scared off her the young Devider Arken," Huln spoke in pity of Arken.
"Huh? Yosho?" Was all he could mutter, that was quite the opposite to what he was expecting to hear.
"Well… can't blame her." Imuru crossed his arms, his eyes diverted to the surface of the table. "I want to be able to handle what's to come on my own, but I don't think I'll be able to."
He looked to Huln. "I have a question to ask. If I become more of a demon… what can I expect?"
"A physical change is unlikely to take place…" A piercing gaze of blue lit in Huln's eye sockets. "Behaviour is a cause for worry. Some lose themselves in the process of the demon path… fading emotions, the loss of their humanity. Not all can be called evil, per se—merely indifferent."
"I sense you're worried about what you'll become. If you possess the will to keep true to who you are, then you will be the Imuru we've come to know and love."
"... If not… then…"
"Hmph." Imuru gave a quiet nod that carried understanding. "I would want you to." His gaze shifted down to his trembling hand… clenching it, he tucked it away.
At the crossing path to Imuru's residence, Collon dismounted his horse. Behind him stood Captain Mult and a contingent of elite guards, their armor clinking in the sudden quiet of the woods. Waiting at the path's mouth were his sister, Yosho, and Arken. They stood with a fierce, protective patience, though in Arken's case, it looked less like patience and more like a man actively looking for a reason to draw his blade.
Before Collon could even open his mouth, Yosho stepped forward.
"On behalf of the Demon Lord, this meeting of Great Forces will be held in strict privacy," she announced, her voice cutting through the rustle of the leaves.
"No one outside of the Great Forces themselves may enter."
She turned her gaze to Collon's personal guard. "You may return to the town; in fact, it is preferred. The path ahead is narrow, and your presence will only cause congestion. Thank you."
Yosho delivered the edict with her classic professional flair. Collon couldn't help but smirk, resting a hand casually on his hip.
"Isn't that my little sis?" Collon teased. His eyes darted past her, scanning the dense, suffocating forest from both sides that hemmed them in. "Hmm. What if I just—"
"You will be ripped to shreds," Yosho interrupted, her voice entirely, terrifyingly calm.
Collon froze. As his eyes adjusted to the deep shadows of the treeline, the forest seemed to grow teeth. Dozens of Gray Pseudorises glared back at him, low growls vibrating in their throats.
Raising his hands in mock surrender, Collon took a careful step back onto the center of the path. "Clever use of them. Guess there's no cutting through the woods, eh?"
"That is correct. A necessary safety precaution for the meeting." Yosho gestured smoothly up the trail. "Please, Great Collon, do not keep the Great Imuru waiting."
"Ooh. You're really taking this seriously…" Collon nodded, his smirk softening into genuine respect. "Thank you, Yosho. I admire your professionalism. In fact, it's the highlight of my day."
Turning back to his men, Collon's posture shifted into that of a commander. "You heard the lady. I will carry on alone from here. Return to town, but remain on standby. That will be all."
That was all the discipline they needed. Captain Mult gave a sharp nod, signaling the elite guards to wheel their mounts around and head back toward the town. Collon turned and vanished up the narrow path.
A heavy silence settled between the two remaining guardians. Arken's gaze slid over his shoulder, watching Collon's retreating back until he disappeared down the path.
"You heard what happened, didn't you?" Arken's eyes flicked over to Yosho. "Aren't you concerned? Usually, humans like to display a little worry after an event like that."
"Collon can take care of himself," Yosho replied firmly, her expression unreadable.
"I have never fought him, so I will refrain from taking your word for certainty." A boastful edge sharpened Arken's tone, but it promptly simmered away into something darker. "Besides, Imuru left it up to our interpretation… he didn't quite explain what occurred."
"Whatever Great Imuru decides to share with us is for the best," Yosho replied casually, refusing to take the bait.
"...He's broken."
The words slipped from Arken's mouth with brutal honesty. Yosho's eyes widened just a fraction, not out of fear, but curiosity.
"I may be wrong… but in this case, I am not," Arken continued, staring blankly into the distance. "He no longer has that will. I can't explain it. He is as physically strong as ever, but he is no longer the man he used to be."
Arken fell into a long, brooding silence. Yosho watched him, perplexed and slightly unnerved by his assessment.
Suddenly, Arken's mood flipped. He triumphantly clenched his fist, a fierce grin breaking across his face. "Disappointing. But! That only means my rise to the throne of the Demon Lord has come—"
Thwack!
With a tightly folded fist, Yosho brought her knuckles down hard on Arken's head, cutting him off mid-sentence.
"Enough. We have work to do," Yosho said, shaking her head in exasperation.
"Ugh, dear me…" Rubbing her temples, she finally realized just how long of a day awaited her.
"Imuru, Imuru, Imuru, Imuru~…" Collon hummed the name like a catchy tune all the way up the winding path to the pavilion.
Stepping inside the open-air structure, he cheerfully waved a greeting to Huln and Imuru. But as he looked around, his smile faltered slightly. The grand pavilion was conspicuously empty.
"Uh!" Collon blinked, glancing between the two figures already present. "I'm early? Let's just hope the others actually show up," he added, a sudden crackle of wariness bleeding into his voice. Shrugging off the unease, Collon took his designated seat at the massive roundtable. Now, the waiting game began.
They didn't have to wait long. Almost as if on cue, the ground near the pavilion's edge began to churn and violently buckle.
Murk erupted from the earth, crawling his way to the surface and thoroughly ruining Imuru's meticulously kept grass in the process. Imuru immediately face-palmed at the sight, a quiet sigh escaping him as he stared at his unnecessarily destroyed property.
"Morning, Murk," Imuru greeted tentatively, rubbing his temples.
"Imuru!" Murk boomed, his expression instantly lighting up as if he had just reunited with a long-lost family member. "My very close ally!"
Collon raised an eyebrow, shooting a skeptical look across the table, while Imuru just stared back at Murk, thoroughly bewildered by this sudden blast of overwhelming friendliness. Forcing himself to realign his focus, Imuru cleared his throat.
"Right. Allies. Moving on…" Imuru gestured toward the towering, silent figure seated nearby. "This is Huln."
The pair met eye-to-eye. An oppressive, heavy silence immediately slammed down upon the pavilion. They had crossed paths before, and the quiet intensity of their locked gaze spoke volumes of a deep, mutual dislike.
"I can see that," Murk said, his voice dropping into a register of profound seriousness. Without breaking eye contact, he swept around the perimeter to the other side of the room, deliberately choosing a seat as close to Imuru as possible.
The resulting tension was thick enough to be cut with a knife. Imuru darted an uncomfortable, pleading glance over to Collon. Collon, however, was leaning forward, casually observing the unfolding drama; he wasn't the least bit surprised by the bad blood.
And then, there were four at the roundtable. The easy familiarity that used to define meetings between these powers was entirely gone, replaced by a suffocating, awkward silence.
A few agonizingly long minutes ticked by, the silence stretching until it was finally shattered by a sharp, incoming presence: the Cat Daughter, Vunaru.
"What an unsightly gathering!" Vunaru loudly remarked, stepping into the pavilion and idly scratching the back of her head. Her eyes scanned the table before locking onto Murk with terrifying focus. "...You must've gone absolutely wild if you think you're leaving here alive."
Her attention eventually shifted, and her entire fierce demeanor dissolved in an instant into one of genuine surprise, if not outright excitement.
She greeted Huln with deep respect, and Huln returned the gesture in kind. Vunaru promptly went on to express how thoroughly impressed she was with Imuru, marveling at how he had managed to convince someone of Huln's stature to come here.
After her energetic outburst, Vunaru swept around the room to take her seat. As she passed by Collon, she paused, leaning in to whisper a promise directly into his ear. "I get first beating on him."
Meanwhile, Murk just sat there looking like an exasperated student trapped in detention. He didn't spare a single drop of his attention for Vunaru. Instead, his fingers idly lifted and gripped his trident, tapping a silent, impatient rhythm against the shaft.
Despite Vunaru's threatening parting words, her entrance managed to break the ice. The heavy, awkward energy around the roundtable finally shifted. Imuru relaxed a fraction, offering a nervous smile, fully aware that the encounter could have gone horribly wrong.
Looking around the table, only one Great Force remained vacant. All that was left was for the Kitsune Highest to join them.
It wasn't much longer before the final guest arrived: Mikimi, the Kitsune Highest.
The moment she stepped into the pavilion, Vunaru couldn't help herself. She leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms with a loud scoff. "Took ya long enough. I don't have the patience for your delays, fox. Last time I checked, you could teleport."
"Hmm-Mmmm…"
Mikimi narrowed her eyes playfully, snapping open her handheld fan to cover the lower half of her face. "Fun fact: I've taken care of a few stray cats in my time." she replied, her tone dripping with a patronizing sweetness.
Vunaru's jaw clenched, her tail lashing behind her. "Who are you calling a stray cat, you dirty fox?!"
"Darling, why make such demeaning assumptions about yourself? Are you a stray cat?" Mikimi asked with mock innocence.
Vunaru's cheeks flushed a bright, furious red from pure embarrassment, completely tongue-tied.
Satisfied with her victory, Mikimi lowered her fan slightly. "I merely wanted to arrive normally like everyone else. Besides, I simply couldn't pass up the opportunity to see Imuru's town," she said, flashing a warm, elegant smile toward him.
Turning her attention to the undead king, Mikimi beamed brightly. "Master Huln," she greeted, her eyes crinkling. "Age hasn't changed you a bit," she added, the sarcasm dancing in her voice.
"The same could be said for you," Huln rumbled back smoothly.
Mikimi then offered a friendly wave to Collon, who nodded in return. Finally, she turned her bright smile toward Murk, greeting him just as warmly, a gesture that caught the entire roundtable off guard. Soft murmurs of surprise rippled through the pavilion; after the palpable hostility of the last few minutes, no one had expected the Kitsune Highest to treat the earth-crawler with such easy friendliness.
With the arrival of the Kitsune Highest, they were at last all gathered together, a historic alignment that had not occurred in what felt like an eternity. They sat around the grand roundtable, a volatile cocktail of clashing personas, centuries of deep-seated trust issues, and raw, suffocating tension.
Yet, the storm was far from over. One seat still remained empty.
To disturb the peace a loud, booming laugh echoed through the pavilion, a sound intimately familiar to some and completely foreign to a select few. Heavy footsteps shook the ground as the Beast King, Kemono, strode into the light, a broad, triumphant grin splitting his face from ear to ear.
The moment he appeared, the remaining energy drained completely from Vunaru's body. Her ears drooped flat against her head, and her tail slumped, swaying lifelessly in the sudden draft.
"Seri-ously…" Vunaru mumbled under her breath, utterly unwilling to accept that Kemono had actually shown up to a summit of this gravity.
"Ooh. Now who is this?" Mikimi's fox ears perked up in burning curiosity, her eyes sparkling as she took in the giant, entertaining newcomer.
Kemono marched straight up to the head of the table, throwing a heavy, boisterous arm around Imuru's shoulders. "HAAAA—HAA HA HA HA! You did not need to cement our alliance any further, my friend, yet you did! By the Beast Master's honor, I will repay this favor!"
The camaraderie was short-lived. In a fraction of a second, Kemono's bright, jovial personality faltered, instantly replaced by a sharp, predatory distrust. His gaze cut across the table, locking entirely onto one person.
"The dishonorable king," Kemono stated. His words were forward, cold, and brutal. Unlike Vunaru's earlier jabs, this instantly demanded the full, dangerous attention of Murk.
"And who might you be?" Murk mocked, his voice dripping with casual disinterest.
"A man with empty-headed ideals, no doubt. I'd be thoroughly surprised if your people manage to survive until the next season."
The insult struck a nerve. Vunaru surged up from her seat, slamming both hands onto the table with a deafening crack. "Watch your mouth!" she snarled, a fierce, golden aura beginning to ripple off her shoulders.
Instantly, the atmosphere warped. Murk and Kemono's respective auras bled into the air, rising to the surface like a physical weight. The air between the three combatants thickened, pushing outward across the pavilion in a wave of raw, oppressive force.
Mikimi merely leaned back in her chair, a mildly amused smirk playing on her lips behind her fan. "Nothing ever changes, does it?"
A panicky Imuru looked back and forth between the trio, a sinking feeling in his chest confirming that he had completely lost control of the room. "W-Wait! Uh… Kemono, please, just take your seat. This is not what we came here for!"
Because the request came directly from Imuru, Kemono was willing to let the matter rest. Grunting, the Beast King suppressed his aura and claimed the final empty seat in a tense, brooding silence.
⟨Phew. Thank goodness.⟩
Imuru sank back into his own chair, his eyes darting anxiously from one powerhouse to the next.
⟨For the time being, it doesn't seem like they'll kill each other right here. Hiya-hiya... I'm going to have a monumentally long day.⟩
He leaned all the way back, instinctively shutting his eyes in sheer, preemptive exhaustion.
⟨Wait…⟩
Imuru snapped one eye open.
⟨Right. I'm the host here. I brought them all together… I really should show some semblance of enthusiasm, but I honestly can't find a single drop of it in this state.⟩
Clearing his throat, Imuru forced himself to stand up. His movements were rigid, almost entirely unwilling.
"Thank you all for your arrival today," Imuru began, his voice echoing under the pavilion roof. "I'm Imuru, your host. If the first phase of our meeting goes well, then we have some incredibly important matters to discuss."
⟨How did that even sound? I didn't care enough to practice since I had much bigger problems to worry about. They better just suck it up… I am entirely not in the mood for complaints.⟩
"Huln, if you may," Imuru concluded, promptly reclaiming his seat.
The ancient, undead king nodded slowly, his hollow gaze sweeping over the assembled rulers. "There will be no need for posturing," Huln rumbled, his voice carrying the weight of a crypt. "My title of Great Force… I will no longer serve under it."
At the spoken words, a collective shockwave rippled through the pavilion. Aside from Collon, and those who already knew the score, the leaders sat stunned. But before anyone could voice an objection or demand an explanation, Huln drove the final nail into the coffin.
"I will now serve the Great Lord Imuru, as his direct subordinate."
An absolute, breathless silence fell over the roundtable.
"I support your decision," Mikimi spoke up first, shattering the quiet. Her tone, characteristically mischievous and soft. "It must have been a difficult choice to make… but I'm sure you'll come to be happy with your decision."
"Yeah," Vunaru added, her fierce posture softening slightly. "If that is what you truly wish to do, then I have no right to stop you."
Collon smiled easily, leaning back with his hands behind his head. "Then that's settled. Quick and easy."
"Now, if no one minds," Vunaru said, her tone shifting as she politely raised a hand. "It would be wise to turn our collective attention to that guy." She leveled a sharp, accusing finger at Murk. "If we speak too freely, who knows what he might do with the information."
At Vunaru's blatant accusation, Murk simply offered a casual, dismissive wave of his hand. "The Sacred Forest had already fractured by then anyway."
"What kind of excuse is that?!" Vunaru screamed at the top of her lungs, completely losing her temper. "Tell me this, I won't destroy you were you stan—"
"Sit," Murk cut off Vunaru at the last second, to correct her.
Vunaru paused momentarily from the rude interruption, a twitch of her ears. "Just who the hell were you working with?!"
"Hmm."
Murk looked off into the distance, his expression cartoonishly dramatic as he pretended to think deeply on the matter. He raised a hand, slowly counting up on his fingers one by one.
"Those assassins… that particular group of adventurers… ooh, and those two… 'Demon Kings,' they call them…? I don't know," Murk sighed, a mocking, wicked glint in his eye. "My memory gets so terribly foggy in my old age."
"Alright. It's fair to say we can kill him now, right?" Vunaru asked.
Every intense, lethal gaze around the table instantly locked down onto Murk. Imuru, meanwhile, was the only one left with any actual inside knowledge of the situation.
Feeling the heat of the room, he awkwardly looked away, whistling silently to the ceiling.
Mikimi tilted her head, her tone deceptively polite. "Excuse me, Mr. Murk. I think I misheard you. Did you happen to mention the words... Demon King?"
The pavilion fell dead silent. They all just stared at the earth-crawler.
"You even worked with—" Vunaru smacked her hands over her face, groaning loudly as she fell backward into her chair.
"I will forever be perplexed by your morals," Huln mumbled, his voice carrying no anger, only a profound, crushing disappointment.
For Kemono, this was simply further proof of his low opinion of Murk, and he looked entirely ready to lay a brutal beating down on the spot. Collon, on the other hand, didn't seem all too bothered. Instead, he looked intrigued. His eyes flashed over to Imuru, who was still pointedly avoiding eye contact with the rest of the table. Watching his host sweat, Collon quickly deduced that Imuru was already entirely familiar with this terrifying piece of information.
"Your trust is not the reason I am here; that part of our relationship is unlikely to ever heal," Murk said, completely unfazed by the glares. "However, I am closely tied to Imuru, so I chose to participate in this meeting. He is the reason I am here, and the reason you all are gathered together. We do not have to like each other, but I am willing to see this through."
Despite what they thought of him, Murk held a valid point, and the room knew it.
It wasn't easy for Vunaru to admit it, but she sighed, letting her hands drop. "Guess we can't dwell too much on the past, or this whole thing will crumble before it even begins. For the time being, I'll lay off ya. But there are going to be strict rules regarding what you are allowed to know going forward."
⟨Wow. That actually went way better than expected.⟩
Imuru cleared his throat, seizing the sudden peace. "This might be sudden, but there's another topic that requires a majority vote." He gestured respectfully toward the Beast King. "With Huln revoking his title, I'd like to propose that Kemono take up the mantle of Great Force."
"Absolutely not!" Vunaru was swift to protest, shaking her head in rapid, violent denial. "You are not getting that vote from me. All of y'all must've gone goddamn wild."
"I agree with the proposal," Collon said, raising his hand.
"I clearly see Imuru's point," Murk added, his hand coming up soon after.
"Maybe we should reconsider…" Mikimi mused, purposely keeping her hand down, bringing the tally to a tense deadlock.
Imuru looked over to the fox split-face. "Why, Mikimi?" he asked.
In response, Mikimi simply offered him a subtle, mischievous wink. Imuru's stomach sank.
⟨...Oh no. Vunaru is going to get upset again.⟩
"Ugh!" Vunaru exhaled deeply, entirely misinterpreting Mikimi's hesitation. "Thank goodness someone else has some common sense around here. If we're stuck in a deadlock, then let's allow our former Great Force to cast the deciding vote. Huln?"
A couple of minutes ticked by in agonizing silence, and Huln had yet to give his reply, seemingly lost in deep thought, or perhaps simply observant to allow Mikimi to play her trick.
"Oh, I switch my vote to Kemono!" Mikimi abruptly announced.
"Uh?!" Vunaru glared at her in absolute shock, her tail puffing up. "Mi—Mikimi… what the hell?!" she wheezed through strained, disbelieving words.
"Whaaat?" Mikimi feigned utter innocence, fluttering her fan. "I merely ended a potentially year-long deadlock."
Imuru just stared at Mikimi in comical, wide-eyed shock. ⟨Eh?⟩
"Damn fox, you did that entirely on purpose!" Vunaru complained bitterly, slamming a fist on the armrest. "Whatever… If this is what the majority wants, then so be it. But I'll say this once: if some massive problem arises because of him, I am not getting involved."
"It is done!" Kemono finally bellowed, having waited with uncharacteristic patience for the results. He stood tall, his chest puffed out.
"This is a wise decision! I, Beast Master Kemono, future Demon King; shall guide the forest to unprecedented prosperity and a true utopia!"
As Vunaru listened to Kemono's grand speech, her shoulders shrank, her face contorting as if someone were violently scraping glass right next to her ears. The grim reality was setting in: she was going to have to work with this loudmouth from now on.
"As for you," Kemono turned, addressing Vunaru directly. "Rejoice. I have found new land to relocate my people. It is unfortunate, but we must part—"
"Do you need some help packing?!" Vunaru spat out. It was, without a doubt, the best news she had heard all day.
"Don't even worry about a thing! In fact, the absolute moment we get back, I will personally divert my own resources to help you pack promptly. Free of charge, and absolutely no strings attached. A cat's honor."
"Hmph." Kemono blinked, genuinely surprised that Vunaru was offering assistance so willingly. "How... generous."
"With that settled, allow me to welcome you, Kemono," Collon said, standing up from his seat and offering a respectful bow across the table.
"The silent warrior!" Kemono roared. He stepped over, opened his massive arms, and scooped Collon entirely off his feet, crushing him in a boisterous bear hug. "A great friend of Imuru is a great friend of mine!"
Collon cleared his throat hoarsely, wheezing out his thanks as best he could until the giant finally set him back down.
With the politics mostly out of the way, Imuru spoke up once again, tapping the table to draw their attention.
"I'm glad to see we're getting along nicely. Before I move on to the main topic of our discussion, does anyone have anything else to add? If you do, can it be stated now?"
"Oh, that's right," Collon spoke, his tone shifting to one of casual recollection. "This is minor for the most part, but our old currency is making a massive resurgence outside of the Sacred Forest. Thanks to the extensive work of Ern S' Ri, we've reignited the trade relationships we once shared with the two human nations."
Collon paused, adjusting his coat. "As a bonus, we have the Kingdom of Fernum, who kindly allowed me to meet with a sovereign nation they themselves are quite close with: the Kingdom of Rungus, composed of both dwarves and humans."
"That again?" Vunaru groaned, rubbing her temples at the mention of an unpleasant economic headache she had already dealt with before.
Kemono sighed heavily. "Sounds like a tedious inconvenience. My utopia will not require such trivial things. If I am to implement currency at all, it will be strictly for the sake of external cohesion and familiarity."
"I'm sorry, guys," Collon apologized with an easy, diplomatic smile. "I know it's the boring, tedious side of leadership, but it has to be done to keep our borders secure and fed. Don't worry too much about it; I'll take full responsibility for managing the treasury and handling the foreign currency exchange. I just wanted to make you all aware of the situation. Is that alright with everyone?"
"Yes," Kemono rumbled.
"Take it away. It's all yours," Vunaru said without a shred of hesitation.
"That can remain entirely your concern," Mikimi finished, officially closing that chapter of the meeting.
Imuru sat silently at the table.
⟨…Alright. It's time. Za—⟩
Imuru cut his own thoughts short, his throat tightening as he swallowed deeply.
⟨Him… and the Demon Kings… We need to prepare for them. Prepare for them? Who am I kidding? I couldn't even beat Zazarah properly. I probably shouldn't have ever come here…⟩
A heavy, suffocating dread began to pool in his stomach, the weight of the coming war pressing down on his chest.
"Imuru."
Collon's voice was gentle, cutting softly through the fog of Imuru's spiraling thoughts. Imuru blinked, snapping back to reality. Collon was looking at him with a steady, supportive gaze, before casting a meaningful glance around the table.
"It's about that time," Collon murmured softly, offering his friend a quiet nod of encouragement. "I think we've settled everything else."