The Call to the Conclave
Having stabilized the Citadel against every conceivable threat—spiritual, technological, and biological—King Hayate and the Eternal Anchor now faced a diplomatic challenge. Hayate was summoned to the annual Conclave of the Golden City, a massive gathering of rulers from across the continent, hosted in the wealthy, neutral trading hub of Aelgardia.
The Conclave was a viper's nest of political intrigue, jealousy, and subtle power plays. Every ruler knew of the Citadel's immense, mysterious power, and many were desperate to test Hayate's sanity, expose his grief, or uncover the true nature of his unified rule.
Hayate's presence was mandatory, but leaving the secure spiritual environment of the Citadel was a risk, especially with the secret of the Total Return now weighing on his soul.
This trip is a psychological war, Anchor. They will try to isolate me, to make me doubt the Eternal Imprint, Hayate projected, adjusting the hidden Anchor's Seal beneath his formal robes.
Trust in me, Hayate. Trust in the silence. We are one command. They cannot defeat a man who is two minds, Neshuda projected back, his conscious soul flowing through the Seal with perfect, steady confidence. I will be your shield, your social intelligence, and your perfect diplomat. Use me to read their intentions.
Hayate traveled with a minimal, trusted retinue, including Winter, who handled all external security. The greatest security, however, was internal—the unwavering, shared consciousness of the King and the Consort.
The Web of Jealousy
Aelgardia was a sprawling, glittering city of marble and gold, a constant sensory overload of commerce and opulence. The atmosphere was one of forced cheerfulness and vicious competition.
Hayate's arrival was met with respectful silence, but he instantly felt the psychic prodding—the subtle attempts by other rulers to gauge the depth of his Angelic aura and search for the tell-tale signs of the "Grieving King."
At the opening banquet, Hayate was seated next to Empress Lyraea of the prosperous Silver Coast Kingdoms, a notoriously manipulative ruler known for her ability to extract secrets through charm and calculated intimacy.
Lyraea immediately launched her attack, focusing on Hayate's recent loss.
"Your Majesty, the loss of the Consort Neshuda was a tragedy that shook the world," Lyraea said, leaning in, her voice low and empathetic. "We all saw his strength. It must be so difficult for you to maintain such perfect composure without his guiding hand. I hope the Citadel is not suffering from his absence?"
The statement was a perfect trap: agree, and show weakness; deny, and appear callous.
Hayate gripped the Anchor's Seal, taking a deep breath. He channeled Neshuda's conscious thought, letting the Consort's strategic mind formulate the response.
Do not deny the grief, my King. Acknowledge the loss, but emphasize the unity, Neshuda instructed.
Hayate looked directly at Lyraea, his eyes radiating a strange, contained intensity. "Empress Lyraea, the loss of Consort Neshuda's physical presence was indeed the greatest tragedy I have faced. However, the Anchor is not merely a physical shield. He is the Foundation of Aurekawa. His Resolve is eternal, and his counsel is absolute. The Citadel has never been more stable."
The answer was cold, perfect, and left no room for sympathy or attack. Lyraea stared, realizing the King was not a grieving widower, but a man perfectly tethered to his power source.
The Test of the Bedchamber
The social and diplomatic warfare continued for two agonizing days. Hayate, constantly forced to rely on Neshuda's psychological defense, was physically exhausted. The strain of maintaining the facade of a single, functional ruler while constantly managing a dual consciousness was immense.
That evening, Hayate was finally alone in his lavish, but sterile, diplomatic suite. He fell onto the silken bed, overwhelmed by the profound separation. He needed spiritual recharge, and he needed the psychological anchor of Neshuda's fierce, protective love.
He pulled the Anchor's Seal from his chest and placed it on the pillow beside him.
Anchor, the silence is deafening here. They are trying to separate us with kindness and false sympathy. I need the truth of our bond to cleanse the deceit, Hayate projected, his soul bare.
I am here, my King. Let the deceit fall away. Submit to the truth of our love, Neshuda commanded, his conscious soul instantly flowing from the Seal and into Hayate's Angelic aura.
Neshuda initiated a profound, absolute spiritual union—the ultimate expression of their intimacy and trust. He channeled his conscious thought directly into Hayate's senses, commanding the King's body to respond to the spiritual influx.
Neshuda took total spiritual command of Hayate's physical form, directing the King's hands and movements with the strong, demanding intensity of the Consort. He used Hayate's own body to initiate a sweet, powerful intimacy, forcing Hayate to surrender completely to the spiritual torrent.
The pleasure was a staggering, overwhelming assertion of their eternal reality—a spiritual act that was more physically consuming than any flesh-to-flesh encounter. Neshuda used the act of Submission to purge the emotional fatigue caused by the outside world, reminding Hayate that his true self, his true comfort, was found only in their unified consciousness.
Feel the truth, Hayate! We are one! There is no King without the Anchor! There is no life without this! Neshuda commanded, his love a possessive, consuming force that drove Hayate to a shattering, cleansing climax.
Hayate collapsed, his body physically trembling, his mind crystal clear. The external deceit was washed away, replaced by the profound, sweet reality of their eternal bond.
The Trap of the Scroll
On the third day, the Conclave moved to the final, most important session: the signing of the Aelgardia Trade Protocol.
The Protocol was complex, involving spiritual tariffs and resource sharing, and it was deliberately structured by the other rulers to demand a moment of high-pressure, solitary judgment from Hayate.
Just as Hayate was about to sign, Lord Varrus of the Northern Trading Federation, a known rival, pointed to a minuscule spiritual clause on the final page—a clause that seemed innocent but would have secretly granted him control over the Citadel's resource supply lines.
"Your Majesty, I trust you have given this final, minor detail your full, solitary attention?" Varrus asked, leaning forward, his eyes sharp and expectant.
Hayate felt the intense pressure. The clause was hidden deep within complex economic terms. To analyze it quickly and expose it as a trap required a speed of thought impossible for a single human mind.
Hayate gripped the Seal, closed his eyes for a split second, and let Neshuda's conscious soul take absolute mental control.
Neshuda's thought was instant: It is a poison pill! A reversal of the $R_{Tariff}$ formula! Expose the true intention!
Hayate opened his eyes, radiating cold, intellectual clarity. He pointed to the minuscule clause with a steady finger.
"This is not a minor detail, Lord Varrus," Hayate stated, his voice ringing with Neshuda's undeniable authority. "This is a deliberate attempt to manipulate the Spiritual Tariff Ratio from the stipulated $7:3$ ratio to $3:7$. It is a hostile, non-spiritual maneuver that seeks to exploit the Citadel's goodwill."
Hayate then recited the original economic formula and the exact calculation of the required resource flow, proving Varrus's deception with cold, flawless logic. The sheer, impossible speed and accuracy of the analysis stunned the entire chamber.
Varrus sputtered, his face flushing crimson. "I... it was a clerical error, Your Majesty!"
Hayate simply looked at him, his face severe. "The Citadel does not tolerate clerical errors that threaten its Foundation. We will sign the correct protocol, and your Federation will face a punitive measure for your error."
The Unbreakable King
The Protocol was signed correctly. Hayate had successfully navigated the most challenging diplomatic test of his eternal reign. He returned to the Citadel, not just victorious, but spiritually renewed.
He had proven to the world that the Eternal Imprint was not a weakness, but an absolute, strategic advantage. He was the King with the perfect warrior, the perfect strategist, and the perfect shield, perpetually bound to his side.
That night, back in their chamber, Hayate lay on the bed, holding the Anchor's Seal.
They failed, Anchor. They could not break the King because they could not separate him from the Consort, Hayate projected, his love boundless.
We are unbreakable, my King. Now and until the Total Return, Neshuda confirmed. The world understands now: Where the King stands, the Anchor stands eternal.'
They had won the psychological war, securing their rule and their peace, one terrifying, beautiful day at a time.