At a long table, Ling sat among frost-white heads, with a few ink-haired youths sprinkled in like pupils brought to watch, not players in today’s game.

A golden-haired girl in that chair looked a little out of place, a lantern set among aged pines.

But no one here was foolish. No one came to tap her shoulder and coo, “Little miss, you shouldn’t sit there,” with a smile like stale bread.

Even the youths, most seventeen or eighteen, carried a touch of polish. None rushed in like rich heirs who knew nothing, to tease or flirt with Ling and make a scene.

This peaceful hush suited her. Even ringed by elders like winter trees, she had no real complaint.

Only one thorn pricked her. Why was the old man beside King Alex watching her with eyes like drawn blades?

Even a casual glance brushed a wall of tar-thick hostility.

If King Alex hadn’t cut him a glare, and if the old man hadn’t sheathed his gaze at once, Ling would’ve loved to stride over and ask, “Did I put an arrow in your knee?”

“Ahem! All right, everyone’s here. Let’s begin. Ling, you start.”

At King Alex’s voice, heads turned in a tide. Dozens of eyes pinned her like cold pins. A flutter caught in her chest before her words.

“Ahem, okay. I won’t go over what happened with the Demon King. It’s not the point.

Right now, it looks like she has something she has to do, and it seems tied to Beastfolk slaves.

Most known Beastfolk have already been taken. She still isn’t satisfied, so she plans to seize the Beastfolk slaves inside the Empire as well…”

An elder raised his hand like a schoolboy and cut in cleanly.

“We got that from Elusen already. I’m curious—does the Demon King’s plan threaten humans?”

“Mm… that’s a question for the Demon King, not me.”

Relief loosened in her chest like a knot undone.

Lucky that while she waited for Rafi that night, Alicia had slipped her a few tricks.

Speak as a third-party who only relays facts. Say what a messenger should know. Say more, and you risk baring something you should not.

Like now—if she claimed the Demon King’s plan was harmless to humans, someone would ask, “How do you know?” Even a clever patch leaves a shadow for doubt.

“All right. Go on.”

“According to the Demon King, if we hand over all enslaved Beastfolk to her, she’ll pull back her army and leave us a proportional number of Demon Elite—the ones posted outside the city gates right now.”

No elder showed surprise. Clearly Elusen had briefed them; Rafi’s guess hadn’t been wild.

The seventeen- and eighteen-year-olds gaped, whispers buzzing at their elders’ ears. A couple elders, annoyed, pushed them back like flies.

King Alex raised a hand, and Ling’s attention clicked to him.

“Ling, how many Demon Elite can we get?”

“Not sure. At least a hundred, I’d say—if we give her all the Beastfolk slaves.”

“Then… if we hand over half, can we still trade for Demon Elite?”

“I don’t think so. The Demon King seems to value Beastfolk slaves a lot.”

“So it has to be all Beastfolk for the exchange?”

“Yeah. Even the dead. If there’s a body, complete or not doesn’t matter. All of them have to go to her.”

King Alex met her eyes, then leaned back, gaze drifting to the ceiling like rain seeking old cracks.

“Even the dead…”

After a long beat, he came back to the room, sat straight, and swept the gathered faces like counting stones.

“If you have questions, ask. I agree to this.”

An elder opposite Ling raised his hand.

“I want to ask—do we have absolute control over these Demon Elite?”

“If the Demon King gives us the Elite, she’ll give us the right to control them.”

“Is it worth trading so many Beastfolk for just over a hundred Demon Elite?”

“If you think a daemon who can match a hundred Beastfolk isn’t worth it, I’ve got nothing else to say.”

“Last question. These Demon Elite… are they safe?”

“An existence under your absolute command—where’s the danger in that? I’ve spoken with the Demon King for a while. I don’t think she’d pull a lie here.”

The elder looked around, met a few gazes, nodded, and lifted his hand high.

“I agree.”

Hands rose in a steady wave. “I agree” echoed around the not-so-large chamber like drumbeats.

When nearly everyone had voted, the elder beside King Alex lifted his hand at last. His withered lips parted.

“I do not agree.”