Chapter 716: Meeting day I- Indecisive
Chapter 716: Meeting day I- Indecisive
For a minute after Commander Rurik’s words, the floor became silent.
No one moved.
No one spoke.
The only sound inside the massive assembly hall was the faint tapping of rain against the tall windows.
The words civil war still hung in the air.
They had not been spoken directly by anyone.
They had not needed to be.
Everyone in the hall understood what Rurik had meant.
The Human Domain had survived a war against the Devil Kingdom.
But now, after victory, the people were beginning to divide among themselves.
The Church and the Authority were already locked in a struggle for influence.
The War Council was caught between them.
And outside the hall, thousands of people had already begun choosing sides.
For several seconds, no one seemed willing to move first.
Then a few murmurs began to spread through the chamber.
Quietly at first.
Almost cautiously.
"I suppose the commander is not wrong."
"We have been arguing about power."
"The people are already divided."
"We cannot allow this to become something worse."
The words were soft.
But they continued spreading.
One person spoke.
Then another.
Slowly, the atmosphere inside the hall began to change.
The representatives who had been glaring at one another moments earlier now began looking toward the document placed at the center of the table.
The peace treaty.
The reason they had gathered.
The reason the Human Domain had been forced to confront its own divisions.
Commander Rurik remained silent.
He had not expected his words to suddenly solve anything.
He had simply said what everyone had been avoiding.
But perhaps that was enough.
Sometimes, a problem did not need to be solved immediately.
Sometimes, people simply needed to admit that the problem existed.
The senior bishop of the Church slowly stood.
The movement immediately drew everyone’s attention.
He looked toward Commander Rurik.
Then toward the Authority representatives.
"The commander is not wrong."
The words surprised several people.
The Authority representatives exchanged glances.
The bishop continued.
"But neither are the concerns raised by the Church."
His eyes moved toward the treaty.
"A peace agreement with the Devil Kingdom is unprecedented."
No one disagreed.
"Humanity has never entered into a formal peace treaty with the devils before."
The bishop placed both hands on the table.
"That alone means we cannot treat this decision casually."
His voice was calm.
But unlike before, there was no accusation in it.
"Such a decision cannot be made on a whim."
The room remained silent.
"Nor can it be decided simply because the people are tired of war."
The bishop’s eyes moved across the hall.
"Nor can it be decided simply because certain institutions see political advantages in it."
The Authority representatives immediately stiffened.
The bishop continued before anyone could respond.
"Every concern must be heard."
He looked toward the War Council.
"Every military concern."
Then toward the Authority.
"Every security concern."
Then toward the Church.
"Every religious concern."
His expression hardened slightly.
"And every concern raised by the people who lost family members in the war."
No one spoke.
The bishop’s voice became heavier.
"However small an opinion may seem, it must be heard here."
He slowly looked around the entire chamber.
"Not outside."
The words carried more weight than expected.
The bishop turned toward the doors.
"The arguments must remain within this hall."
Several people exchanged glances.
"If this debate leaves this room before a decision is reached, then the commander’s warning may become reality."
The hall fell completely silent again.
The bishop continued.
"If the public hears only the most extreme arguments from either side, the people will not see a debate."
"They will see enemies."
His gaze moved toward the Authority.
"The Church will be portrayed as an obstacle to peace."
Then toward the Church representatives.
"The Authority will be portrayed as an institution attempting to seize control."
He looked toward the War Council.
"And the military will be forced to choose between them."
Commander Rurik’s expression became serious.
The bishop lowered his voice.
"Once that happens, the discussion will no longer belong to this hall."
Everyone understood what he meant.
The people would decide for themselves.
And once they did, no institution might be able to control the result.
The bishop slowly returned to his seat.
For several seconds, no one spoke.
Then the highest representative of the Authority nodded.
"I agree."
Several people turned toward him.
He continued.
"Not because I agree with every position raised by the Church."
The bishop’s expression remained unchanged.
"But because the commander is correct."
He looked toward the document.
"We have allowed our own interests to become part of this discussion."
No one denied it.
"Perhaps that was inevitable."
His fingers touched the table.
"Every institution in this room has something to lose."
The Authority representative paused.
"And something to gain."
The admission caused a strange silence.
The Authority had not openly acknowledged its ambitions before.
Now, however, the room had reached a point where pretending was becoming useless.
The official continued.
"The question is whether we are capable of putting those interests aside long enough to make the correct decision."
A senior priest gave a quiet laugh.
"That is easier said than done."
"Yes."
The official looked at him.
"Which is why we are going to be here for a while."
********************************************
For the first time since the meeting began, the three powers appeared to be discussing the actual proposal.
The arguments did not disappear.
They changed.
The Church still believed the devils were dangerous.
The Authority still believed the treaty could benefit the future of the Human Domain.
The War Council still feared that either decision could create new problems.
But now, instead of attacking one another directly, they began presenting their concerns.
The first question was the portal.
"The permanent passage is unacceptable without military supervision," one commander argued.
The Authority representative nodded.
"Agreed."
A Church official immediately objected.
"Military supervision alone is insufficient."
"Then what do you propose?"
"The Church must be included."
The Authority official frowned.
"Why?"
"Because the Church possesses the greatest experience dealing with demonic energy."
"That is exactly why the Church should not control the portal."
The argument began again.
Commander Rurik closed his eyes.
The unity had lasted less than five minutes.
Still, the debate was different now.
The voices were raised.
But they were no longer attacking the existence of the other side.
At least not directly.
The discussion continued.
Who would control the portal?
Who would guard it?
Who would decide which devils could enter the Human Domain?
Would humans be allowed to travel freely into the Devil Kingdom?
Would Lilith be allowed to send representatives?
Would the Church be allowed to inspect them?
Would the Authority be allowed to monitor them?
Would the War Council be responsible for security?
Each question created another question.
Each answer created another disagreement.
The treaty itself was only a few pages long.
But the consequences of every line stretched far beyond the document.
*******************************************
The discussion continued for nearly another hour before one of the representatives suddenly raised a different issue.
"The wording is unclear."
Everyone turned toward him.
Commander Rurik stared.
"What wording?"
The representative pointed toward the document.
"The first paragraph."
Several people leaned forward.
"The word ’cooperation.’"
The Authority official blinked.
"What about it?"
"It is too vague."
A few people stared at him.
The representative continued seriously.
"What exactly does cooperation mean?"
The bishop looked at the document.
"It means cooperation."
"That is not a legal definition."
The Authority representative sighed.
"Are you suggesting we spend time defining the word cooperation?"
"I am suggesting that words matter."
The room became quiet.
The man was not entirely wrong.
But the expression on Commander Rurik’s face suggested that his patience was being tested.
The representative continued.
"If the Devil Kingdom interprets cooperation as military support, then—"
"Nobody is going to interpret it as military support," someone interrupted.
"You cannot know that."
"That is why the treaty contains additional conditions."
"Then the word should be changed."
The debate continued for nearly twenty minutes.
Eventually, the word remained.
Nothing changed.
Commander Rurik looked at the ceiling.
The day was going to be long.
*********************************************
A short break was eventually called.
It was supposed to last fifteen minutes.
It lasted nearly forty.
The representatives had begun leaving the hall in small groups.
Some gathered in the corridors.
Others went to speak privately with members of their own faction.
A few remained in their seats.
The War Council members used the opportunity to stretch their legs.
One commander walked toward the nearest window.
"How long do you think this will take?"
Rurik did not look at him.
"Which part?"
"The treaty."
Rurik stared outside.
"The decision?"
"Yes."
"Days."
The commander frowned.
"Days?"
"If we’re lucky."
Another War Council member joined them.
"If we’re unlucky?"
Rurik remained silent.
The other commander answered for him.
"Months."
Nobody laughed.
The rain outside had stopped.
The streets below were still wet.
From this height, the crowd outside the assembly hall could be seen.
Even after hours, people had not completely dispersed.
Some banners remained visible.
Peace.
Justice.
Revenge.
The words were written on different pieces of cloth.
But they were all being held by people who believed they were fighting for the same thing.
The future of humanity.
Rurik looked at them.
"That is what worries me."
One of the commanders followed his gaze.
"The crowd?"
"The fact that both sides believe they are right."
****************************************************
Inside one of the smaller side rooms, the Church representatives had gathered.
The senior bishop sat at the head of the table.
Several priests stood around him.
"The Authority is attempting to use this treaty to expand its influence," one of them said.
"We know."
"Then why did you agree with their statement?"
The bishop looked at him.
"Because the statement was correct."
The priest became quiet.
The bishop continued.
"Do not mistake agreement on one matter for agreement on everything."
Another priest frowned.
"Then what is our position?"
The bishop looked toward the closed door.
"Our position is unchanged."
"The treaty must be rejected?"
The bishop did not answer immediately.
"The treaty must not be accepted without conditions."
That answer was different.
Several of the priests exchanged glances.
"Would you accept a modified treaty?"
"That depends on the modifications."
"What modifications?"
The bishop looked down at the document.
"Control."
The word was simple.
But everyone understood what he meant.
The Church did not necessarily need the treaty destroyed.
It needed to ensure that peace did not make the Church irrelevant.
*********************************************
In another room, the Authority representatives were having a similar discussion.
"The Church will not accept the treaty unless it receives authority over the portal."
One official said.
The leading representative leaned back.
"They will not receive authority over the portal."
"Then they may reject the treaty."
"Perhaps."
Several officials looked at him.
He continued.
"But the Church cannot openly reject peace without damaging its relationship with the public."
One of the officials frowned.
"Unless they convince the people that the treaty is dangerous."
The room became silent.
The leading representative’s expression became serious.
"That is exactly what we must prevent."
"How?"
"By ensuring the people understand that this is not a surrender."
He tapped the treaty.
"It is a controlled agreement."
One official smiled.
"And if peace succeeds?"
The representative looked toward the window.
"Then the Authority will have accomplished something the Church could not."
No one spoke.
The ambition had not disappeared.
It had simply become quieter.
*************************************************
When the representatives returned, the meeting continued.
The next issue involved the human prisoners who had been taken during the war.
The Authority wanted information about them.
The Church wanted proof that no humans remained in danger.
The War Council wanted the names of every soldier who had gone missing.
The discussion became unexpectedly emotional.
A commander stood.
"There are soldiers whose families have been waiting for information for months."
A Church official replied.
"And if the devils refuse to provide it?"
"Then that must be included in the treaty."
The Authority representative nodded.
"Agreed."
The Church looked at him.
"You agree too quickly."
"I agree because it is reasonable."
"Or because you want the treaty to pass."
The official’s eyes narrowed.
"Not every agreement is a conspiracy."
The commander between them sighed.
"Please."
Both sides turned toward him.
"Can we argue about something else?"
For a moment, the room became silent.
Then, unexpectedly, one of the older representatives laughed.
It was a small laugh.
Almost unwilling.
A few others smiled.
The tension eased for a moment.
It was insignificant.
It changed nothing.
But for a few seconds, the people in the room remembered that they were still people.
Not institutions.
Not factions.
Not symbols.
Just exhausted individuals sitting in a room arguing about the future.
Then someone brought up the issue of taxation.
The tension immediately returned.
****************************************************
The treaty contained a section concerning future trade between the two nations.
The Authority wanted a clear structure.
The Church objected to allowing devil-produced materials into human territory.
The War Council wanted to know whether those materials could be used for weapons.
The Authority wanted to know whether the Devil Kingdom possessed resources that humans needed.
The Church wanted to know whether those resources were connected to demonic energy.
The discussion became so complicated that even the people who had originally introduced the topic began losing track of it.
Eventually, a clerk was forced to stand.
"Could we perhaps postpone this section?"
Everyone stared at him.
The clerk swallowed.
"I mean... the trade agreement could be discussed separately."
The room remained silent.
Then Commander Rurik nodded.
"That may be the first sensible suggestion we’ve heard in the last hour."
The matter was postponed.
Nothing was decided.
But at least the discussion had moved forward.
Barely.
*********************************************
As the day passed, the representatives slowly began to understand something.
The treaty itself was not the only problem.
The real problem was fear.
The Church feared that peace would weaken humanity.
The Authority feared that rejecting peace would waste an opportunity.
The War Council feared that either decision could lead to bloodshed.
The people feared another war.
The families of the dead feared that peace would mean their loved ones had died for nothing.
And those who supported peace feared that humanity’s hatred would create another war before the treaty had even been signed.
Everyone was afraid of something.
And because of that fear, every side wanted control.
Control of the portal.
Control of the military.
Control of information.
Control of the negotiations.
Control of the future.
The treaty had become a mirror.
Every institution was looking at it and seeing a different threat.
**************************************************
By late afternoon, the representatives had reached the section concerning military cooperation.
That was when the debate became serious again.
"If a devil force crosses the border without permission, what happens?" a War Council commander asked.
"The treaty will be considered broken," the Authority answered.
"And then?"
The Authority representative paused.
"Then the Human Domain will respond."
The Church representative leaned forward.
"With what?"
"That depends on the situation."
"That is not acceptable."
"Why?"
"Because if the treaty is broken, we must be prepared to retaliate immediately."
The Authority official shook his head.
"That is precisely the type of thinking that could turn a small incident into another war."
"And hesitation could allow an invasion."
The War Council commander placed both hands on the table.
"Both of you are proving the problem."
The two sides looked at him.
He continued.
"The Church wants immediate retaliation."
The Church representative frowned.
"The Authority wants time to investigate."
The official nodded.
"Yes."
"Those positions cannot both be implemented."
"Then find a third option."
The commander stared at them.
"That is what we’ve been trying to do all day."
***********************************************
The discussion continued until the candles had burned low.
At some point, food was brought into the hall again.
This time, no one bothered to leave their seats.
Plates were placed on the tables.
Some people ate while listening.
Others forgot about the food completely.
One elderly representative fell asleep for several minutes.
A nearby priest quietly woke him.
The man looked around in confusion.
"Have we reached a decision?"
"No."
The old man sighed.
"Of course not."
He picked up a piece of bread.
"Wake me if we do."
Commander Rurik overheard the exchange.
Despite himself, he almost smiled.
It was a small moment.
It had no importance.
It did not affect the treaty.
But it made the endless meeting feel strangely real.
People became tired.
People became hungry.
People lost track of arguments.
People forgot what point they were trying to make.
Even when the future of the Human Domain was being discussed, everyone still needed to eat.
*************************************************
As darkness began to fall, the light outside the windows disappeared completely.
The candles around the hall were lit.
The representatives had spent the entire day arguing.
And yet—
No decision had been reached.
The treaty remained exactly where it had been when the meeting began.
On the table.
Waiting.
Commander Rurik looked around the room.
The Church had not changed its position.
The Authority had not changed its position.
The War Council remained caught between them.
But something had changed.
They were no longer arguing only for themselves.
At least not openly.
The discussion had become focused on the actual consequences.
That was progress.
Perhaps.
But progress was not the same as a decision.
The senior bishop finally leaned back in his chair.
"The discussion should continue tomorrow."
The Authority representative looked toward him.
"Agreed."
Several people around the table sighed.
The meeting had lasted the entire day.
And they were no closer to an official decision than they had been in the morning.
Commander Rurik slowly stood.
He looked around the hall.
For one brief moment, he felt something close to relief.
The meeting had not collapsed.
No one had walked out.
No one had openly declared the others enemies.
The debate had remained inside the hall.
That was something.
But it was not enough.
As the representatives began leaving, Rurik remained seated for a few moments longer.
He looked at the treaty.
Then toward the closed doors.
Outside those doors, the Human Domain was waiting.
The people wanted an answer.
Some wanted peace.
Some wanted war to clean up
And every day without a decision gave both sides more time to grow angry.
Rurik finally stood.
"Tomorrow," he muttered.
But even as he said it, he knew the truth.
Tomorrow would not be easier.
The ambitions inside the hall were too deep.
The wounds outside were too fresh.
And the fear of what might happen if the wrong decision was made was too great.
The first day of the assembly ended without a decision.
The Human Domain remained divided.
The Church remained determined.
The Authority remained ambitious.
The War Council remained trapped between them.
And the peace treaty remained exactly where it had been when the meeting began.
On the table.