President Fofana Steelers.
The third-term president of the Mathema Kingdom, and a former legendary hero.
She was a woman in her aunt’s generation, with deep navy hair and a naturally fair complexion. She was most often seen in her trademark yellow suit, pinned with Mathema’s red emblem.
Nora had seen her since arriving, but hadn’t gone over to greet her.
The president was someone Nora had crossed paths with on numerous occasions. Mathema’s system of government was unique—the people elected their leader by vote, and each president could serve up to four terms. That meant Fofana could move about far more freely than any royal figure; she wasn’t burdened with the ceremonial obligations that came with a crown.
It was a political structure unique to Mathema: the head of state and highest authority was simply called “President.”
Through her male interpreter, President Steelers’ words carried across the hall:
“I oppose this shipping route.”
It wasn’t the kind of thing just anyone would permit—letting demons sail right past their doorstep.
President Fofana saw right through Everton’s proposal: requesting a route that cut through the middle of a country meant there had to be another motive.
“We do not agree with the route you’ve proposed.”
“And neither do we,” added Velmount’s delegation through their interpreter.
Everton knew exactly what she meant.
“That route would get us to Snowhaven the fastest,” he replied.
“You must understand, we Diablo also have resources to manage. Sailing all the way around the far side of the world to reach Snowhaven is far less efficient.”
An excuse, plain as day.
President Fofana leaned back in her chair while her interpreter relayed the words.
“Madam President,” one of her aides murmured in her ear.
“Mhm… I see.”
In truth, this was expected. Before the meeting even began, the human nations had already done their homework and agreed on the route they wanted the Diablo to take.
“We propose…”
Instead of letting the Diablo cut through the middle, they wanted them to skirt along the coast—passing through Velmount and Mathema in sequence, from south to north, to reach Snowhaven.
This, of course, was a far longer journey—weeks longer.
Luminus would never open its waters to them, and Zentinel, a vast landmass to the east, would take even longer to cross than the west side with Mathema and Velmount together.
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Even if common sense favored the shorter path, in the current climate, people still saw the Diablo as monsters from the depths of hell. Allowing them on the main shipping route was not appealing—it could spread fear among the populace and undermine national defense.
Nora jotted notes. Then glanced toward the Diablo side.
Would Everton push back?
“That much of a detour? Why? Wouldn’t that be a waste of resources?”
“There’s no reason for you to take that route,” the Velmount side pressed. “That’s the trade artery for human shipping. Your vessels are too large—we fear accidents. Any incident, whether caused by you or us, would cripple the economy.”
The river cutting through the continent was the world’s main economic lifeline—it connected every kingdom. Any disruption would fracture supply chains and halt transport.
“That’s fine. We have smaller ships; we can use those instead,” Everton countered.
Not just Nora, but the whole assembly felt the tension spike between Mathema and the Diablo.
Everton’s message to President Fofana was clear: We will pass here.
Her message back, as the most powerful leader in the room: No, you won’t.
“Aren’t you worried yourselves? Shadows might already be on your land, waiting to sabotage you. Will you wait until it’s too late?”
“We are concerned, but there have been no reports of Shadow attacks so far,” came the measured reply.
In other words—
I’m not risking demons walking on our soil now. Let Snowhaven be the guinea pig; we’ll talk later.
And by instinct, with “big brother” Mathema refusing the central route, “best friend” Velmount would stick by them.
Snowhaven didn’t care about the journey; they just wanted the Diablo to come wipe out the Shadows.
That left Zentinel under pressure to side with Mathema. As the world’s largest agricultural and manufacturing nation, they too had no interest in letting demons walk their land.
So they’re happy to throw us in as a sacrifice? Bastards, Nora thought.
Just then, her eyes met Fury’s. She could tell from his look that he knew she had just learned something.
She turned to her mother, Empress Ophilis XIV, whose expression betrayed nothing.
“Very well. We agree to use that route,” Everton said.
Nora froze.
Seriously? Was he backing down?
Or just testing the waters?
“And we have a condition,” President Fofana’s representative said to the demons.
“We three kingdoms agree to send representatives to observe your operations.”
So not only were they making Snowhaven the test subject, they wanted to watch, too?
“That won’t be possible,” came her mother’s voice—flat, firm—through the interpreter, addressed to the other three nations.
“We will not allow outside personnel to interfere with our official procedures. Sensitive geographical information could leak to rebels in other countries.”
“But you’ll let the Diablo know?”
“Of course not. But we can control them.”
“And why can’t you control us?”
“Because we know for certain—even rebels wouldn’t dare approach the Diablos.”
It was a solid answer… but Nora knew the real reason.
The “rebels” were just an excuse.
Snowhaven wanted the Diablo’s Shadow-hunting methods all to themselves. Why would they let the very countries willing to sacrifice them as test subjects get a peek, too?
No way.
The “data leak” excuse was a polite way of saying: We, Snowhaven, don’t trust your countries.
This was a mind game on multiple layers—Humans vs. Diablo, and Humans vs. Humans. As she grew, Nora would need to handle both fronts. It would not be easy.
The Empress held firm: no observers.
“Unless… everyone reverts to the original river route.”
Snowhaven’s offer: allow observers, but only if the demons could pass through all five kingdoms.
“This is urgent for us. If you close your waters to the Diablo, Snowhaven will lose precious time handling the problem. Every second counts—it could mean innocent lives.”
Liar… you didn’t care about sacrificing over a million of your own for a railway, Fofana thought, biting her finger.
The offer was selfish—Snowhaven knew no one would open their waters, so they could feign moral outrage. And if someone did agree, they might slap on extra demands.
She leaned back, turning to her advisor.
“We can’t let Snowhaven hold this knowledge alone. I want that secret. What can we do?”
“If we allow the Diablo on the main route, we risk trouble with Luminus.”
“…What’s Velmount’s position?”
She glanced at Velmount’s side—their delegation clad in red and black—deep in discussion.
If anyone could decipher the spells in the Diablo’s Shadow-trapping scrolls, it would be Velmount. No other country in the world was more versed in magic.
Even just a glimpse, and they could likely name the type of magic instantly.
In Velmount’s eyes, they wanted that know-how as much as Mathema did.
The problem was: taking the main route meant trouble with Luminus.
Even though Luminus was an old power past its peak, they still respected Luminus as the only nation capable of challenging the Diablo. It was why they still tread carefully around them.
Then—soft chimes rang through the hall.
Break time, before the afternoon session resumed.