In the study, the Finance Minister of Gephra sat opposite Mr. Herbes. Neither of them spoke.
The room was suffused with a unique atmosphere—one ford from wealth, status, and power. It was an air of nobility, of extravagance.
“Extravagance” wasn’t an exaggeration. The lifestyle of aristocrats was beyond imagination. The wealth these families had accumulated over centuries was vast and staggering.
This wealth allowed for an exquisitely refined life—where even the most minute details radiated opulence.
A random painting on the wall might be a masterpiece from a legendary artist’s peak period, worth a fortune.
A book pulled from the shelf might open to reveal the handwritten signatures of historical figures on the inside cover, proof they’d once read it.
Even the carpet under Mr. Herbes’s feet was worth more than an ordinary person could imagine.
This was perhaps the most infuriating and helpless mont Mr. Herbes had ever experienced—it went beyond re humiliation.
The Finance Minister glanced at him, let out a quiet hmm, then smiled faintly. “Still about that last matter, I suppose?”
Their previous conversation had involved Lynch’s batch of bonds. At first, the Minister hadn’t realized the implications, but he later connected it to the wager between Mr. Herbes and Lynch, and inferred the underlying issue—specifically, when those bonds Lynch used as collateral would be redeed.
Mr. Herbes had repeatedly expressed goodwill, and since the Empire couldn’t afford to release too much reserve capital at the mont, the Minister had resolved the matter easily.
Now, things had clearly changed.
Mr. Herbes nodded. “Yes, I beg your help.”
The Minister leaned back, sighing. His eyes swept over Mr. Herbes before he finally nodded noncommittally. “I’ll try, but you should be prepared. The Emperor’s will supersedes mine. If he changes his mind and is resolute, even if you laid all the world’s treasures before , I couldn’t change the outco.”
“Of course. I understand.”
After the conversation ended, Mr. Herbes quickly left the Minister’s residence. He had done all he could—now all that remained was prayer. Prayer that the gods would not abandon him.
Two days later, the business negotiations between the Federation and Gephra were nearly concluded. Honestly, no one—be they Gephran, Federal, or from other countries—had expected such a smooth process.
Neither side wasted much ti or energy on any issue. There was no intense hostility, not even much table-slamming.
It may have been the textbook example of diplomatic negotiation, a model case for foreign relations or world history books.
This negotiation embodied the core principle: striving toward common goals and making appropriate concessions to reach a mutually acceptable outco.
No one clung too stubbornly to their demands. Through friendly, efficient probing, they quickly found solutions. Agreents were reached one after another, and so Federal businessn had already begun preparing to participate in the Gephran governnt’s bidding sessions.
At this ti, the Emperor of Gephra requested a private audience with Lynch.
“Did you do sothing I don’t know about?” asked the Deputy Minister of Foreign Affairs in a low voice, as they traveled together to the palace.
The Gephrans were proud, and so was their emperor. A proud emperor didn’t summon a foreign envoy without a compelling reason.
The deputy continued, “Just give a general idea so I can write the report more easily. Otherwise, once you’re back, the Security Council will want answers.”
A one-on-one audience with a foreign leader was never taken lightly. The Council would inevitably investigate—asking why the emperor summoned Lynch, what was discussed, and whether any national interests were compromised.
There were no small matters in diplomacy. Despite modern technology, understanding other nations still fundantally relied on people.
Official ssaging always concealed key details. If everyone believed what others said at face value, the world would already be united.
Even during the Federation’s campaign in Nagaryll, they had pressured and bribed its ambassador, who then transmitted false information back to his holand. With coordinated efforts across several fronts, that ultimately led to today’s outco.
Lynch, however, showed no concern. “The President is aware. I’ll be fine. But I still appreciate your concern, sir.”
As they spoke, they arrived at the palace. The deputy looked at the lavish structure, eyes filled with a complex emotion.
A few years ago, the Federation had been insecure, feeling inferior to Gephra and most other countries. Citizens indulged in comfort and feared death. Back then, the Foreign Ministry had been treated like a joke, a powerless formality.
Other nations frequently imposed demands—requesting military port access, the export of valuable resources, even harassing or seizing Federal rchant ships.
People feared war and avoided reality.
But now, everything had changed. They stood on Gephran soil, holding firm to their principles, demanding concessions—and now, standing at the very core of this nation, witnessing its center of power up close.
“I’ll wait here for you. If anything happens, rember to be patient. Don’t put yourself in danger,” the deputy advised earnestly. He knew Lynch probably understood all this already, perhaps even better than he did.
But whenever he saw Lynch’s youthful face, he couldn’t help but offer a few words of caution. Youth was Lynch’s greatest asset—and perhaps his most volatile trait.
“Don’t worry. I know what to do,” Lynch replied. With his head held high, he followed the Gephran attendants into the palace until his figure disappeared completely.
Ten minutes later, Lynch t the Emperor of Gephra.
This was their second eting. The first had been brief, more of a formality. This ti was different—closer, more personal.
The emperor appeared youthful, perhaps in his late forties or early fifties. His face was flushed—not a healthy, rosy complexion, but an unhealthy, almost glowing redness, a sign of hypertension.
“You’re very bold,” the emperor said, eyeing Lynch without much expression. His position and authority lent him a natural, daunting presence.
He sat slightly elevated, allowing him to look down at Lynch. “You don’t seem like a Federal. I’ve heard Federals are more timid than a needle’s tip. I’ve seen it myself.”
“Our warships fired just one volley and so of your people wet their pants…” he chuckled. So nearby ministers laughed as well.
Lynch smiled too, which intrigued the emperor. “So you agree with ?”
Lynch shook his head. “No. I was thinking about a past naval battle. That so-called invincible fleet was nearly wiped out. If so ships hadn’t been reassigned at the last minute, their nas might only exist in history books now.”
“Yet those who should be thanking the heavens for sparing them the sha are now mocking the victors to comfort their egos. I find that laughable.”
The laughter in the room ceased abruptly. The emperor’s face darkened, radiating danger. His whole body felt tense. Each heartbeat pulsed painfully in his temples.
“You are very bold.”
Lynch gave a slight bow. “You already praised my courage once just now.”
The emperor seed ready to speak, but Lynch didn’t give him the chance. He continued, “I ca here hoping we could resolve so mutual problems—not to witness your so-called imperial grandeur.”
“Gentlen, please understand: the Federation fears no one. We don’t use force to shove others into submission, but when faced with threats or provocation, we will not hesitate to defend our rights by any ans necessary.”
“If your intention was to summon here just to mock and intimidate for your amusent, I suggest we not waste each other’s ti.”
“Instead of trying to humiliate , you’d be better off thinking about how to address the Allia issue.”
“That’s what truly matters.”
Lynch’s calm, assertive tone—laced with sharp words—infuriated the emperor, yet also forced him to remain rational. Any competent ruler would recognize that Lynch wasn’t wrong.
Though the emperor disliked Lynch, he had to acknowledge his point.
“I’ve heard you claim you can resolve the Allia issue,” the emperor said. “I’m curious—how do you plan to do it?”
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