Dismay Cruise Ship
Later on, delegates from the three nations gathered inside a pristine conference hall deep within the cruise ship.
Despite the absurd exterior of the vessel, the interior meeting room looked perfectly professional.
Seated around the table were:
Rondo Stoneale, Dwargonian Diplomat Hannya, Acting Foreign Minister of Murica King Luxius, Ravendawn Admiral Lorenzo, Ravendawn
Lorenzo began the discussion.
"We regret the altercation between our patrol ship and one of your merchant vessels," he said. "We are still investigating why our ship went rogue."
"Hmph!" Rondo snapped immediately. "How convenient for you to call it 'rogue.'"
He leaned forward aggressively.
"Perhaps this is how you provoke a war so you can invade us and plunder our resources!"
"We have no intention of invading Dwargonia," Hannya replied calmly.
"If anything, Murica prefers friendly relations and mutually beneficial trade."
"And our investigation suggests an unknown faction orchestrated these incidents to create conflict between Dwargonia and the Murica–Ravendawn alliance," Luxius added.
Rondo scoffed loudly.
"Investigations conducted by 'you two,'" he said with clear disdain. "Our findings show something very different."
"Then please enlighten us," Hannya said politely. "What did Dwargonia discover?"
Rondo leaned back in his chair, clearly pleased with himself.
"Fine," he said.
"What we found… is that Murica engineered the 'accident' with the Atlas ship so Leviathan could infiltrate our capital!"
The accusation hung dramatically in the air.
"And what exactly would we gain from that?" Hannya asked.
"OBVIOUSLY," Rondo barked, slamming a hand on the table, "so Leviathan could wipe out our Grand Council!"
He pointed accusingly at Hannya.
"Decapitate our command structure! Leave us vulnerable for invasion!"
Hannya stared at him for a moment.
Then she sighed softly.
"…And yet Hearthguard Cairn still stands," she said. "Your Grand Council is still breathing."
"Hmph!" Rondo shot back immediately. "Only because our military thwarted your plot before it happened!"
---
Langley, BICH Headquarters
Inside a secure meeting room at BICH Headquarters, a large screen displayed the live diplomatic conference taking place at the Tri-Border Ocean.
Janet, Mo, and several intelligence agents watched the broadcast.
"Who the hell is this clown?" Janet growled.
One of the analysts quickly checked his tablet.
"Rondo Stoneale," he replied. "Leader of a minor Oakenbrew sub-clan. Nothing particularly noteworthy in his record."
Janet's fist slowly clenched on the table.
"Then why," she said slowly, "would Dwargonia send someone like him as their lead diplomat?"
She pointed at the screen where Rondo was currently shouting at everyone.
"He's accelerating a war instead of preventing one."
Mo remained silent.
His eyes stayed fixed on the screen, expression thoughtful.
The dwarves were proud. Aggressive, yes. Stubborn, definitely. But they were not reckless.
Sending someone this inflammatory to a three-nation summit made no strategic sense.
Which meant one thing.
Someone else's hand was moving the pieces.
And Dwargonia might not even realize it.
---
Tri-Border Ocean
Inside the conference hall aboard the Dismay Cruise Ship, the discussion had already gone downhill.
Rapidly.
"Enough of this!" Rondo suddenly slammed his fist on the table.
The sound echoed across the room.
"A few days ago, our Moth Pole prison was destroyed!"
"We know," Hannya answered calmly. "And we tried to warn yo—"
"It was destroyed!" Rondo shouted over her voice, refusing to allow interruptions, "because your minister and ambassador attempted to kill our Grand Marshall, Dwordoug Axebreaker!"
"What?" Hannya's eyebrow twitched slightly.
Rondo straightened his posture, voice swelling with dramatic pride.
"But our Grand Marshall is a valiant dwarf!" he declared. "He sacrificed himself by ordering a bombardment upon the prison—burying the demons and himself beneath mountains of rubble!"
The room fell quiet for a moment.
"I doubt our minister or ambassador would do such a thing," Hannya replied calmly. "We even sent aircraft to help you—and we have recordings of unknown black airships bombarding the prison."
"Of course we turned your aircraft away!" Rondo snapped immediately. "They might have been aiding Leviathan!"
He pointed accusingly across the table.
"And how do we know your recording isn't fake? We know you're capable of something called 'video editing'!"
Even with her usually cold composure, Hannya's irritation became faintly visible.
Just barely.
Luxius quickly stepped in before things deteriorated further.
"Why would we— If Murica and Ravendawn wanted war with Dwargonia," he said carefully, "we would already be at war."
He spread his hands calmly.
"Let the investigations continue. We are still searching for why and who is behind all of this—including the destruction of Moth Pole."
Rondo shook his head slowly.
"The 'why' no longer matters," he said coldly. "Too many dwarven lives have already been extinguished by your hands."
He leaned forward slightly.
His eyes stared directly at Hannya.
"I will ask only once."
A pause.
"Does Murica admit responsibility for the death of dwarves?"
"Nay," Hannya answered immediately. "We will not claim responsibility for something we did not do."
Silence filled the room.
Then Rondo stood.
"Then from this moment," he announced coldly, "Dwargonia declares war on the United Demon Kingdom of Murica… and its ally, the Ravendawn Kingdom."
The words landed like a hammer.
Luxius froze.
Lorenzo visibly paled.
Across the table, Hannya simply blinked once.
Inside her mind, calculations ran rapidly.
The old Murica would have been thrilled by this announcement. War meant killing spree. Muricans loved killing spree.
But this time…
Her assignment had been different. She had been told very clearly to prevent the war and this was her first important meeting as Acting Foreign Minister.
"…Sniff… sniff…"
Hannya lowered her head slightly.
"…How can you declare war so easily…?" she murmured in a soft voice.
She try to do Levi usual theatrics.
"War is never good… countless lives… wasted… for no reason…"
Everyone else staring at her.
"Ehm… miss," Lorenzo whispered politely, "your face and your words… don't really match…"
The performance failed. Spectacularly.
"Tch." Hannya clicked her tongue.
Her old boss could do emotional theatrics perfectly. Even her bratty adopted sister Ivy could fake sadness better than this.
"Whatever… THAT WILL BE ALL!" Rondo suddenly roared. "THE NEXT TIME WE MEET WILL BE WHEN YOU SURRENDER!"
He turned and stormed out of the room dramatically.
The door slammed behind him.
The remaining delegates sat in silence.
"…Maybe I should take an acting class," Hannya muttered quietly.
Her face was still completely expressionless.
---
Bashington DC, The Black House
"I am terribly sorry, sir. I failed to prevent the war with Dwargonia."
Hannya bowed deeply before Solo and Lilith inside the Black House briefing room.
Stan, Monny, and Mo stood nearby, having just finished reviewing the conference footage.
"Don't worry, it wasn't your fault," Solo said, waving a hand dismissively.
"We watched the footage," Lilith added. "They clearly wanted war from the start."
"Tch. Another war," Monny groaned, rubbing her temples. "Not only did we fail to secure dwarven minerals, now I have to prepare an extra military budget!?"
"Well, blame the dwarves this time," Stan said cheerfully, sounding almost relieved that the military would finally be busy again.
"Stan, just coordinate with Ravendawn forces and make the necessary preparations," Solo ordered calmly. "Mo—anything that could stop this war?"
Mo shook his head slowly.
"Not yet," he sighed. "We're still following several leads in Vandoria."
Lilith leaned back slightly, "But I'm surprised they used the Moth Pole incident as the excuse."
"Yes…" Mo nodded thoughtfully, "It seems our mastermind has infiltrated Dwargonia quite deeply."
Solo rubbed his chin.
"…Do you think Levi survived Moth Pole?"
The room fell silent for a moment.
Then—
"Uh huh," Lilith answered immediately.
"Yep," Stan replied.
"Of course," Mo nodded.
"Definitely," Monny shrugged.
"He's like an annoying cockroach that survives even a nuclear blast," Hannya added flatly with far too much detail.
Everyone slowly turned to stare at her. They collectively decided not to comment on that.
By the end of the day, the news spread across Talvaris:
Dwargonia had declared war on Murica and Ravendawn.
Some nations grew worried.
Others quietly smiled.
---
Meridinia Alliance, Carravin
The Meridinian Alliance—Talvaris's closest equivalent to the Soviet Union—was not driven by ideology.
It was driven by profit.
The alliance functioned as a federation of neighboring kingdoms dominated by merchant guilds, where trade dictated politics. At the center of it all sat King Cassemir, a man who effectively ruled both the alliance and the guild that controlled it.
Geography had long favored them.
The Meridinian Alliance occupied the central region of Talvaris. Nearly every major shipping route passed through their waters. For centuries, merchant vessels crossing the continent had little choice but to stop at their ports for mandatory resupply.
Each stop meant tariffs.
Each tariff meant profit.
But recently, that comfortable arrangement had begun to crumble.
Murica and Ravendawn had built a new Canal, a shortcut that bypassed Meridinia entirely.
If left unchecked, it would drain centuries of easy revenue.
Which was why King Cassemir now sat on his throne wearing a wide, satisfied grin as he welcomed two special guests.
Members of the Church's Seven Virtues.
"Kukuku… After a year of dirty work, it's finally done," Cassemir chuckled. "Murica is at war with Dwargonia."
"Congratulations, Your Majesty," the two priests said in unison, bowing politely.
"Those Muricans…" Cassemir muttered irritably. "Selling goods everywhere without paying merchant guild dues. And then opening a new shipping route on top of that? Hmph. The losses we suffered this year are unforgivable."
"Worry not," said Sachiel, the elderly priest adjusting the monocle over one eye. "War will force merchants to avoid their Canal."
"And when both sides are weakened," added Camael, the handsome younger priest, "the Meridinia Alliance—supported by the Church and the Celeste Empire—will help Dwargonia crush Murica."
"My forces will be ready soon," Cassemir said, leaning forward slightly. "But are you certain the dwarves will request our aid? They are famously prideful."
"One of our own within Dwargonia will ensure it," Camael replied calmly.
He paused before adding with a faint smile.
"And even if they do not, as a nation that believes in the goddess, you hardly need a reason to fight demons. The Church and the Celeste Empire will support you—and pressure other nations to follow your lead."
"Good," Cassemir nodded with satisfaction. "No more smuggling explosive scrolls or infiltrating spy networks."
He leaned back in his throne.
"Just pure war. My armies and the dwarven mercenaries have been aching for battle."
"And your merchant guild is likely aching to control the Canal," Camael said with a grin.
"HAHAHAHA!" Cassemir roared with laughter.
"Of course! Once the Canal falls under guild control, Meridinia will prosper beyond imagination!"
He pointed accusingly at the priests.
"But don't pretend the Church isn't benefitting from this too."
The two priests exchanged knowing smiles.
"Of course the Church benefits," Sachiel said calmly. "With this war, we can purge demon influence while guiding the dwarves back onto the proper path of Celes."
"Then let us toast," Cassemir declared, snapping his fingers.
Servants immediately appeared, placing wine glasses before them and filling them with dark red wine.
"Salute."
"Salute."
Their glasses raised high together.
The storm of war was already beginning to form beneath that quiet toast.