After about half an hour, John and Eliza were invited back inside and the approval of making a last signal given. Some leaders seemed unhappy with the decision. Well, all leaders looked unhappy with the decision, it was just that they understood that, should push come to shove, this was necessary.

Ahanu and John pretty quickly got a signal agreed on and that discussion was finally done with. Much to John's relief, nobody brought any further complaints up, potentially slipping the info he kept from Eliza. It was done, dusted and even those John found to be unsympathetic moved on.

Now they could turn to the actual discourse of the day. “Well then, President Newman,” the Chieftain-Elect gave him the honorific with a friendly joking tone. “I suggest you explain to us, in detail, what you envision us joining Fusion would look like.”

“Phew… okay,” John had expected to be riddled with questions while they discussed things, rather than him being allowed to take the initiative. Had he known it would take this course, he would have prepared some sort of presentation. “To summarize things up front, I don't intend to redraw any borders, to meddle in your internal affairs – as long as you agree to a set of principles – or force you into disbanding your current power structures. That being said, as a guild member of the federation, you pay either direct taxes or part of your own taxes to the central government, in which you will, of course, be represented. Also, people will be drafted into the army.”

“Does this mean we will no longer be allowed to maintain our own defense forces?” one of the leader's tossed in.

John shook his head, softly, to keep his glasses steady on his face. “No, you will be allowed to maintain militias. However, those could never be used to act outside of your territory, with some exceptions during wartimes. We would also have to discuss sizes if the local army ever got dangerous for the centralized one.”

“What are those principles you spoke of?” another chieftain threw in when there was a moment of silence.

“Freedom of expression, the ability for anyone who hasn’t committed a crime to get involved in the political process, absolute intolerance towards any practices that take away an innocent human’s right of self-determination, free markets and free exchange of ideas with the bare minimum of necessary governmental involvement,” John more or less cited the list public on his own governments website.

“Human?” Ahanu asked. “I assume this is just because of your mundane past? Surely you don’t want to include all of the magical races that live within barriers?”

John almost asked the stupid question who would even want to exclude sexy elven women from being included into society, then he remembered that there were literal Nazi magicians one continent south of his location. “Yeah, just a slip of the tongue… I should double check with the constitution I wrote… All humanoids, then? No, wait, that would exclude people with a different shape. All sapient creatures?”

“Sapient?” Ahanu asked. “Don’t you mean sentient?”

John quickly explained that there was a difference and left it at that. Since he had to be schooled on this topic himself initially, he had no right to complain that others weren’t aware of the definitions there. Common mistake and all that. “So, there we go, clarification error removed. Further questions?”

There were, tons of them. Eliza closed her eyes not even halfway through the entire thing and just dozed off while John had to answer, listen, weigh in on discussions and negotiate. It quickly became apparent that the Hidden Tradition was fine with just about everything John proposed. The only real hang-ups they had were the part about the military and the way of representation. Everything else, they agreed on very quickly.

“I simply cannot agree to sending our people into your wars,” one of the less sympathetic leaders cried out, a sentiment generally met with nods by the other leaders.

One of them was Ahanu himself, “I must agree, John, not only by the way our ancestral-given powers work but also by the pacifist traditions we have upheld the last two-hundred years, joining an army meant for expansion would be against our interests.”

“The goal of you joining the greater collective I aim to build is for safety, correct?” John asked, causing Ahanu to hesitatingly nod. “If everyone was as reasonable as you people are, I wouldn’t need an army. Fact of the matter is, however, that there are enemies all around that need to be beaten into accepting the principles we want the entirety of America to follow. Forming a federation for safety is useless if it doesn’t conquer enough land to make us a force unattractive to be attacked. To that end, I need people that can fight.”

“That is right, but…” Ahanu mumbled as if he had a counter, but what the Gamer had said rang true. If they weren’t willing to see Fusion expand further, aiding it in the first place would have been more dangerous than staying out of this entire affair.

John could see the general resistance in the room. It was obvious that more than half of the chieftains, as positive as their stance was towards his ambitions, refused to partake in any structure that would send their children out into war without the blessing of their predecessors. The other half looked at best willing to go along with what was necessary.

‘Well, time for the bread and butter of politics… favours,’ John thought and very visibly pondered. “Let me make a call, maybe we can work something out that works for both of us,” he said and pulled out his phone. Many of the people in the smoke-filled room went to get a refilling of cake, while listening to the Gamer’s phone call.

It took almost a full minute for the person on the other side to pick up. “What’s up, John?” Chemilia’s teasing voice, harsh and equally soft like rough linen, answered from the other line. “Or do you want me to call you president over the phone?”

“John is perfectly fine,” the Gamer answered. “I am in the conference with the Hidden Tradition right now.”

“Really? I mean, I got the update that you were going, but that’s pretty fast.”

“Sometimes, things just happen all of a sudden.” Not that he had to lecture her on that. The Gamer softly waved the blood mage left and right, like a child in her cradle. In her sleep, Eliza murmured something about skinning those annoying fuckwits alive. Not the cutest assortment of words, but John loved the situation nonetheless. “Right, I’m calling for business.”

“Get on with it then, I have to storm a smuggler’s den in like three minutes,” Chemilia answered. “No wonder the south rebelled when they have criminal hives springing up everywhere…”

That sounded like something that John wanted to know about in more detail another time. “Would you protest if I offered a general position to someone?” John asked, causing the chatter in the room to cease and the Hidden Tradition’s leaders to listen more carefully.

“We are still three short, so no, if you find someone capable, I would be more than happy to welcome them into the ranks… although I may complain down the line if they are a total cunt,” Chemilia quickly answered. “Is that all you needed?”

“Well, I would explain it to you in more detail, but since you’re in a hurry… Take care.”

“I will, I have Metra with me,” Chemilia assured him before hanging up. That put John at ease a fair bit. Her or Ted fighting again so shortly after getting their replacement limbs was dangerous as far as he was concerned. Probably necessary to get used to them as well, though.

‘I should start doing some mock fights as well soon,’ John thought, hoping that would speed up his recovery. ‘Just some low-level dungeons where things can barely hurt me anyway… worst case, I can use Undine to…’

“John?” Ahanu pulled the Gamer out of his thoughts, impatient to find out what that had been about.

“Sorry,” John tried pocketing his phone, found that impossible with Eliza in the way, and thusly just threw it into his inventory. “Okay, here is my compromise. Be it purely symbolic, I still need you to join the central army.” Quickly raising a hand to halt any complaints, for which several leaders drew breath already, John continued. “However, we can easily design it so that all people drafted from your lands will only enter the unit of the general from amongst your own ranks. Then we declare that unit to only be used for defensive purposes around the east coast.”

Letting that sink in for a few moments, the Gamer waited for somebody to ask the obvious question. Elu was the one who finally took the bait. “Could you not just appoint somebody else as the general for that unit eventually?”

“In return for you coming to my aid when all was stacked against me, I am more than happy to promise and guarantee, in whatever way you may want, that you will always have a general amongst my ranks and that that general will always be the one leading the unit responsible for defence of the east coast,” John said clearly and with conviction. That he didn’t have a (visible) steady gaze to back this up irked him in that moment, but the people around seemed quite receptive towards this idea.

This promise would necessitate a rework of the military system as taken over from the Little Maryland, John realized, but with the shortage of manpower he had been given and his ambitions covering way more land than the now subordinate guild had ever done, that was just a question of time anyway. Probably not what Chemilia had in mind when he had called her just now, but he had to get this show on the road already.

“This way, you wouldn’t have to operate too far away from your centres of power, not lose anybody in offensives and get more representation,” John continued to sell them the idea. A dash of realism would make this proposal more grounded, “Of course, if we were to lose in a war, you would still have to fight the advancing enemy. Similarly, if there is a surprise attack, you are the first responders.”

“Against invaders, we would happily help,” Ahanu assured. “And if Fusion is something for which to fight it’s worth, we certainly would defend it in a losing war you started.” With all the guarantees that John had made just now, that was met with widespread agreement. There were still one or two hecklers amongst the crowd, who drew out the final verdict by asking a lot of detail questions.

‘Definitely should raise my Charisma some more,’ John thought, not quite happy yet with his performance in negotiations. This new position in the military prompted a lot of interest in the exact system of draft, how the military was financed and so on.

John admitted that the exact style of leadership had to be redone, but for the remaining questions he had quite easy answers. There would be several systems of recruitment, largely dependant on mobilization. Primarily, the army would be made up of people that chose to fight on their own accord. Since this was the Abyss and people that didn’t specialize in combat spells couldn’t really just be given a rifle and thrown out there (although there were definitely less effective methods), mass recruitment wouldn’t be particularly effective.

To maintain a steady flow of potential soldiers, as well as a uniting culture, John did want to introduce a mandatory one-year training for people that reached adulthood. During desperate times, even those who decided not to join the army but had gone through that training would one by one be drafted. For the financing, the central government would handle all of it.

It was a pretty basic and well-oiled modern, western military system, with adjustments to be made for the Abyss and its different demands in terms of equipment, feeding, pay, shelter and all of that jazz.

“I think we have heard enough,” Ahanu spoke loudly when the discussion finally came to a complete stop, people happily chatting about other things as they ate the remaining cake. “Everyone who is for the Hidden Tradition joining the federation Fusion lead by Coll…ide? Was that the name?”

“Yeah… what did you think?”

“Colander was what went through my mind, to be honest,” the Chieftain-Elect smiled apologetically. “English isn’t my first language, you will have to take it slow with me.”

“No offence taken,” John assured.

“Yes… anyway, everyone in favour, raise your hand.” Out of the twenty-one present chieftains and other leaders, sixteen raised their arm immediately, with another three slowly joining and only two keeping their hands down. “Anyone against?” Not a single raised hand. “Thus, the council of the Hidden Tradition decides for joining Fusion with 19 for, nobody against and two withdrawn votes. Thanks be to the ancestors and mother nature.”

“”Thanks be to the ancestors and the blessed spirits,”” the room echoed and people suddenly pulled heavily decorated pipes out of pockets, regular or dimensional, along with wooden bowls and a number of bags of different herbs.

“Now it is actually time for the ‘peace’ pipe,” Ahanu explained to John who made an unwilling face.

“I am not keen on smoking,” he admitted, hoping that wasn’t too rude.

“Don’t worry, there is no tobacco in the ceremonial mix used for approval of a treaty,” the Chieftain-Elect assured as he grabbed several different herbs, tossed them all into the wooden bowl, mixed them with his hands and then put them in the elongated pipe. It didn’t take long for it to be lit and, after Ahanu had his huff, he handed it to John with a sense of urgency.

Imagining that a denial here would be equivalent to refusing to sign a treaty, John grabbed it and carefully inhaled through the wooden, hollow stick. Nothing happened, so he pulled a bit harder and suddenly his entire mouth was full with the taste of jasmine and daisies. Although not unpleasant, it still scratched in his throat. His exhale was ungraceful, dominated by coughing and him handing the pipe back.

“You really aren’t keen on smoking,” Ahanu chuckled and took the pipe back.

After that things went down easefully. Elu was quickly agreed upon as the general that should stand in for the Hidden Tradition, which was only in John’s interest. With her level, be it only defensively, she would be a massively useful asset. Also, she could handle Eliza, which was its own useful skill to have.

One by one, the leaders excused themselves afterwards. With the ritual agreed to start tomorrow, with how much time they had wasted on discussion, there was little reason to stay outside of the good company. John himself was amongst the last five before he decided to wake up Eliza and they left.

Stretching, a yawn on her pulled back lips, Eliza stepped into the daylight with the Gamer. It wasn’t that late, barely even evening, but driving back to DC and their home would have only had the advantage of their own beds. John opted to find them a hotel instead and book a room.

“Something wrong?” John asked when Eliza stopped dead in her tracks while they walked up to the entrance. It was a pretty dull looking building, with presumably dull rooms, but it would do for the night.

“…Nah, just my own fucking paranoia,” Eliza stated and they went inside. The transaction was pretty quickly done with and John was handed a key.

Granted, he had no intention of sleeping in the actual room, for the sole reason that he and Eliza would get noise complaints if they didn’t retreat into a barrier, but he would have felt odd not to pay when he had more than enough money. That and he was likely to use the shower, which he could hardly do inside a freshly created barrier.

“So, what are we going to with the remaining time?” Eliza asked, throwing herself on the bed, sprawling out her limbs and waving her arms like she could draw a snow angel into the sheet. “I am up for fucking.”

John still had a choice to make. “Let’s go on a date,” he said just to break the uncomfortable silence that settled in the room when he didn’t answer. “We get to have sex all the time, how often is it just the two of us in a new town?”

“I don’t really give a shit about exploring whatever city,” the blood mage spoke her mind, but jumped back on her feet. “But fuck it, I am down, where do we go?”

“Wherever we want… within legal and geographic boundaries of course,” John answered with a smirk. Then that smile suddenly died when he realized that heading out and parading through the city was a massive risk. What if they stumbled into Sigmund by pure chance? Would he be foolish enough to attack Eliza?

John blinked, a question bubbling to surface. One that he couldn’t solve and had no time to either as Eliza was already stepping towards the door.

“On second thought, let’s stay,” he hastily urged and grabbed her extended hand.

Eliza turned to look at his hand, then up to him. “What the fuck is wrong with you today?!” Immediately, she exploded into a tirade, “You keep doing cryptic shit, keeping things from me and being way less decisive than usual. WHAT IS IT?!”

“I…” John inhaled deeply, very slowly building the sentence he wanted to say next before speaking it out loud. “I don’t know what to do, Eliza, about something that is urgent.” Her expression melted in a mixture of shock and disbelief. In the reflection of her eyes, John could see his own vulnerable silhouette. “I don’t know which decision is better. One is definitely going to save us a headache in the long run, but the other every emotion in my body tells me to pursue. I have no fucking clue whether to go with what seems logical or what I feel is necessary.”

The elementals all had weighed in on this decision and been unable to find the perfect answer either. Salamander and Siena had had a clear answer, but even they admitted that they didn’t know it was the best one. Although one option was dominated by emotion, both had their logical framework, both had their necessity, both had pros and cons, and what John wanted to go with went against what his Wisdom told him too.

“Going with either could make what I unleash on the world ruin countless lives… Eliza, I can’t tell you the details, but what do you think I should do.”

“…Do you have a coin?” the blood mage asked, and John laughed out loud.

“That’s your idea to solve my conundrum?” he was honestly amused. “A coin flip?”

“Yeah, but listen to me, you annoying motherfucker,” Eliza growled and snapped the dime from him when John pulled one out of his inventory. Not for the first and certainly not the last time, he wondered how the money he created with his ability was automatically part of the global finance system. “Heads, you decide what you want to do,” John opened his mouth to protest but the blood mage held his mouth shut with her left hand. “No, don’t protest, you brickhead. You are John fucking Newman, you hear me? Make your fucking decision like a man and then breed me, you cum dispensary.” Somewhere between amused and actually intimidated, her hand was almost crushing his jawbone, he nodded. “And if it’s tails, I tell you whether to do the stupid, emotional, crapshoot thing or the ‘logical’, ’smart’, ’John-Newman-definitely-isn’t-a-dumbass-robot-who-should-shut-the-fuck-up-and-just-do-somethings-sometimes’ thing.”

“I get the feeling you are biased,” the Gamer joked when his face was released.

“No really?!” Eliza was properly worked up by now, her eyes spinning and her clenched fist almost colliding with the furniture, which would doubtlessly have resulted in shards of wood flying everywhere. “What tipped you off, Shitlock?!”

Eliza tossed the coin into the air with such force that her dark red fingernail damaged the metal. While it still tumbled, John tackled the smaller girl, threw her over the shoulder and marched to the bed. Behind him, the flat piece of currency hit the carpet with a dull thump.

What side it landed on was of no matter.