“Fighting in the Asturian–Gallian front has nearly dried out. Ever since the MN pulled out of occupied Asturian lands, both sides have mostly hunkered in their defensive positions. Strategic attacks against the republic have mostly ceased as well, as they have been refocused instead against Latia and Poznek. The possibility of ongoing peace talks between the MN and the Asturian Republic has been floated by members of the Larissan Revolutionary legislature, accusing the republic of harboring ‘traitorous’ interests. This has been denied by the Asturian President.”

  - Geopol Press

  +++

  Republic of Asturia

  Loviedo City

  February 28, 2026

  Asturia.

  It was a lone nation on this side of the West Vaeyox region. It was also one of the nations where the men's revolution began years ago. It was neither a popular nor a well-received revolution. It was only really possible because of extremists in the Asturian Military, who launched an audacious coup against Asturia’s paralyzed regency council.

  The newly-born nation started off being on fire. Women and men fought each other viciously, massacres between those with magic and those who wanted to suppress magic became the first horrors that reached international airwaves. Minister Adelaide Wallenstein knew that all too well.

  She remembered shuddering when the Loviedo massacre happened, and she remembered personally backing Gallia’s idea to interfere militarily. It was only right after all. The revolution had to be tempered.

  Alone, with their backs against the wall, without reinforcements or allies, it was expected that the Asturian Republic would collapse either to Gallia, or to its darker elements. Instead, Asturia was tempered not by outside forces, but by a group of men who wanted something more than a blood-lusted revenge attempt.

  That man now entered the room with her, privately. His name was none other than President Carlo Enriquez—the man who not only moderated the revolution greatly to bring it to its more democratic roots, but also, the man who rallied his nation piece-by-piece to challenge the Mandate of Nations.

  He stood in front of Adelaide however with a neutral face. He neither looked heroic nor arrogant with the impossible victories he managed to snatch. No, all Adelaide could see was a tired, aged, and practically emotionless forty-year-old man. No words came from him as he took the seat in front of Adelaide, while she tried to smile a bit at him.

  “I thought you were trying me there for a bit, Mr. Enriquez,” Adelaide respectfully said.

  “No. I had to run here after a meeting with my generals. I apologize.”

  “Apologizing to your enemy is quite the interesting start.”

  “Orland has never been truly Asturia’s enemy. It was Gallia and Lorathia, and we’ve broken their spirits.”

  “Is that so?”

  “I view your Queen as someone commendable. I know why she had to fight us. I know she doesn’t want it. That’s why you’re here again.”

  Adelaide smiled further, starting to love this exchange. There wasn’t much diplomatic finesse or elaborate rituals between the two. This man seemed to strike her straight to the point. Thus, Adelaide decided she should copy that.

  “Mr. Enriquez, I made the decision to come here because of the cooling hostilities between our sides. What is your opinion on switching sides?”

  “It’s not happening,” he flat-out refused. “Not yet at least.”

  “Oh?”

  “Not without great concessions, which you cannot meet,” he leaned forward, his red eyes striking deep through Adelaide’s soul. “Concessions which even your Queen cannot take. It will break the MN.”

  “...We gave great concessions to the Gallian Junta,” Adelaide paused a bit, grabbing her cup of tea. “As far as I can tell, the Asturian regime is either no different to the Gallian Junta, or even a great improvement. If we can do something to ally with them—why not with you?”

  “Do we look like we have a Queen at the moment?”

  “The Gallian Kingdom has a Queen yet she has no power.”

  “That alone bears a symbolic significance. The Gallian government may be in control, but to the eyes of your allies, so long as the Queen’s place is guaranteed, the generals running the scene aren’t eternal,” he laughed. “That’s the only way these people can accept men doing something more than being ruled by them.”

  “What are these concessions that you speak of?”

  “We want out.”

  …What?

  “Out?”

  “And we want to be paid in full after we were dragged into this,” he narrowed his eyes. “I want to rebuild my country in peace. I want an Asturia that is a republic, a democracy, where men and women are equal under the law and the eyes of the state. I want prosperity and peace. That is the concession I want. I want Gallia and Lorathia to pay for the damages they caused, and then, I’ll withdraw from the CFN and sign peace. No territorial changes, no regime changes, just payment for your allies coming in to kill my people and destroy our nation, and nothing else.”

  This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

  “...We wanted an Army at least for this.”

  “And that’s why you cannot accept,” the President started to stand up from his seat. “I suppose this meeting is done, isn’t it? Our nations will remain functionally at war.”

  “Wait. We should talk this out more.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yes.”

  He sat back in his chair.

  “What will you even propose this time?”

  “I want to know your price. How much is this ‘repayment’ that you speak of?”

  “We estimate the damages you have cost us is in the trillions, but eight hundred billion Orlish blancs is a reasonable number. It’s not like your wartorn countries can pay more than that anyway. What I want is…to use it at least to commence reconstruction, and pay down our war debts.”

  Adelaide’s eyes widened.

  “Eight hundred billion?”

  “What?”

  “Nothing…it’s just…that’s a large sum of money,” Adelaide laughed. “And how long do you want it paid for?”

  “At least ten years.”

  “I’m sorry,” Adelaide shook her head. “You were right. This is impossible for us to accept. Politically, and economically. It will be too much of a blow.”

  “I suppose that’s it then,” he stood up. “There’s nothing more for us to discuss. Thank you for coming here, Lady Adelaide. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

  “Before you go,” Adelaide stopped him.

  “What?”

  “Will you please at least always, at all times, keep contact with us open?”

  “...The CFN will not like that. This is already a breach of our alliance’s code. Not that I care about it anymore. They don’t do much for us anyway.”

  “Exactly,” Adelaide stood up, closing the gap between the two. “I have an informal proposition to make. If you can keep in contact with us, I’ll convince Her Majesty to never, ever, organize an attack on Asturia. In exchange, you will remain in perpetual defensive mode, never to attack Gallia or Lorathia.”

  She tried to raise her hand close to him.

  “Can we do that?” She asked.

  “I have no answer to that,” the man shook his head. “But I’ll keep informal communications open. That’s all.”

  “I see…” Adelaide sagged. “At least it’s something.”

  +++

  February 29, 2026

  This morning, Adelaide would once again attempt to gain the audience of the Asturian President. She had already called him once earlier, as she had received further instructions from Amelie last night. Their talks over the phone were inconclusive, but still, Adelaide hoped he would relent and let her visit today.

  Done with it, she had her breakfast with her team, and they talked deeplky about their revised strategies. To pull Asturia out of the war, into the Mandate of Nations, was now confirmed to be their main goal after Adelaide reported things to Amelie last night. The Queen wanted Asturia because of their massive military that had great veterancy and proficiency.

  “I need them to break Poznek,” were her parting words earlier.

  Unfortunately, her team was unable to figure out good things to offer as strategies. The entire reparations angle and the demands about white peace were something that was still difficult to take easily: not to mention it was impossible to pay that reparation money. But then, what could the Mandate of Nations offer?

  Adelaide pondered about long, until the meeting with her team ended, and she was forced onto the balcony of the hotel they were staying at.

  She watched silently as the early morning dragged through Loviedo. Down below, traffic was fairly light. Most people walked to their workplaces, whether they be men or women rushing to the factories or their offices. Rationing was strict in this nation. While Loviedo had enough oil and synthetic oil production to meet the demands of the Army, it had nothing enough to meet the demands of the public.

  The blockades on everything by the MN navies were certainly choking this nation, yet, it remained stubborn. Adelaide thought about that factor longer and longer, trying to discern if it would be useful for the negotiations, but, soon enough, the Queen called again.

  As usual though, when the two finished talking, it was inconclusive as well. Amelie was a good Queen, but she wasn’t really a mastermind at these kinds of things. Her constant calls were usually just an act for her to keep tabs on her underlings, which Adelaide always tried her best to meet.

  Placing down her phone, a soft smile graced Adelaide’s face.

  “That woman certainly doesn’t like being left in the dark about anything,” she sighed.

  Hours and hours passed in the hotel, as Adelaide continued to wait for that phone call from the Asturian President.

  By noon, she was already eating a fine steak she had ordered, alongside a crème br?lée on the side. She mindlessly scrolled on her burner phone, checking updates in the international media. Surprisingly, the Asturian Republic kept its internet largely open, though many Orlish social media apps were definitely restricted.

  Still, she could get news quite easily, so much so that she could even check live updates from Geopol Press about the ongoing offensive in Kusari and Hebei, which still, even when it now reached its third month, dragged on.

  Her phone suddenly rang. It was the President. She immediately placed it on her ears, speaking in a slightly hushed tone.

  “Mr. President—?”

  “Come to my office. Details will be given in a secure line. That’s all.”

  The call was immediately cut off.

  By afternoon, Adelaide had received the details of their appointment. She made a few more calls with Eutstadt to report to the Queen, then she met again with her team for further briefings. By five in the afternoon, she was out with her driver, straight into the former Royal Palace.

  It was already raining at this point, and she and her driver, who acted as a bodyguard as well, rushed to get through the entrance. Her bodyguard, who was a Royal Guard knight, constantly eyed the soldiers inside the palace, suspicion clear in her eyes. Adelaide on the other hand shrugged it off.

  Soon, they reached the President’s office, and the guard outside opened it. Her knight stayed outside, and Adelaide walked inside.

  “Mr. President. I am here,” she respectfully called out. Immediately, President Enriquez turned his swivel chair in her direction, away from the glass window that provided a great view of the Loviedo Central Business District.

  “Good,” Carlo leaned forward on his desk. “I know I rejected you flat out last night, but I presume you have better terms this time, don’t you?”

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