Chapter Text
After the war, there was much healing to be done by everyone in the world. Many had been injured, of course, but the casualties had been incredibly high and a huge number of people were grieving. So, when the Emperor returned to the world, battered and bruised, but still alarmingly alive, the world held its breath in horror. Princess Hilda of Fynn immediately called the rebel heroes that had saved the world from the Emperor's ambitions. But, much to everyone's shock, as the Wild Rose Rebels were still preparing their quick response to take down the Emperor for the third time, it was he who extended the white flag of peace.
This came in the form of a letter that was delivered to Princess Hilda by a Palamecian messenger. In it, the Emperor called for an indefinite truce. He explained that the situation in Palamecia was dire, and as no suitable ruler had been found in his place, it was his duty to rebuild his empire. He would cease his conquests indefinitely, accept his loss in the war and pay a reasonable restitution to the affected kingdoms, and in return, Palamecia's borders would be respected, allowing the empire to keep the territories that had willingly surrendered, and Fynn and its allies would stay out of Palamecian affairs. Most importantly, they would not send assassins to kill him again.
Princess Hilda read the letter to Gordon, Firion, Maria and Guy. All of them had grim faces as they listened. The Emperor's words had been polite, but none of them wanted to believe his sincerity.
“He can't be serious!” Maria exclaimed. “After what he did, he just… expects that we will forgive him? No way. We're going to go and find my brother and then we will go back to Palamecia and send him straight back to hell where he belongs.”
“I'm not inclined to believe he really has given up on his ambitions,” Firion said, shaking his head. “In that call to battle by the gods, it was all he could think of. If he hadn’t been stopped…”
“Me think Emperor lying. He no want peace. But maybe he want live,” Guy said.
“That may be a good point,” mused Hilda. “Perhaps he has not given up. But at the same time, he has to know that you are strong enough to take him down again.”
“So… what? We're just going to let him live? After all he did? After all the people that don't get to live because of him?” Maria asked.
“I will admit, it makes me feel ill to spare that monster's life,” Hilda said. “Though Minwu returned due to the gods that brought the Emperor back, all the others that we lost because of him… cannot. It feels unfair that he gets a second chance when so many thousands will not.”
“And yet, as much as I am loathe to admit it, what he said about Palamecia is true. It is, indeed, in a desperate state,” Gordon sighed. “And we do not have the means to do anything about it.”
“What do you mean? After the Emperor's death, surely Palamecians are better off,” Maria said.
“Unfortunately, no. Whatever else he might have done, the Emperor kept his empire running like clockwork. And after his death, the power vacuum was immense. The people of Palamecia are proud and will not take any ruler that is not from the Palamecia lineage. His advisors have done what they can, but things are very unstable. Paramecia is on the verge of collapse," Gordon explained. "If Palamecia collapses, the people have to go somewhere. We don't have the means to deal with a mass exodus of Palameclans if they choose to come to Fynn. And if they do, we can't just turn away people in need..."
Maria sighed. She had heard about some of this, and she couldn't help but feel sympathy for the people of Palamecia. They were innocent of the crimes of their Emperor. And it was true that no kingdom was in any position to take in a massive amount of immigrants.
“Surely there are members of the Palamecia family that can take the throne,” Firion said. “It doesn’t have to be him. We can’t just… spare him.”
“Unfortunately, none have come forward. The Palamecian people think the throne is cursed due to the way that the Emperor became a demon after his first death,” Hilda said. “Even though that only lasted a short time, it was… a striking situation. Perhaps in time, they would accept the situation, but… Palamecia does not have that long. Palamecia needs its ruler... Much as it pains me. I will have to accept his terms. I will add some of my own, however… and should we have any reason to suspect hostility, then… we will fight him again.”
Princess Hilda ended the meeting with Firion, Maria and Guy, and reluctantly set about writing a diplomatic letter to Emperor Palamecia. In it, she agreed to the truce, though she added that she expected the Emperor's full cooperation in any plans she might bring to him, and that he should expect that Fynn would be watching him like a hawk, ready to take him down the moment he made a move against them.
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Emperor Mateus read the letter with a frown on his face. Of course Hilda would add her own terms. But what choice did he have? He did not fear death, that was true. Though hell was a horrific, torturous place to be in, he was still master of Pandemonium. And yet… he didn’t want to die again. If he did, he might not be able to return to the world of the living. He would lose his empire and any hope he had of fulfilling his ambitions. He simply could not let that happen.
Filled with disgust, he picked up a quill and wrote his acceptance of Hilda’s terms. After he signed it and marked with the Imperial Seal, he couldn’t help but bitterly note that this new chance at life was its own kind of hell. Not only were his ambitions entirely unreachable for the foreseeable future, but he was forced to surrender to his enemies. Still, as long as he still could draw breath, he had some hope that someday, he would get his chance. Someday, he would return to his conquests, and bring his justice to the world. Just like Pandemonium, he would conquer this hell too. The truce with Fynn was shaky, but he was a careful man. He would keep it and his life intact.
For now, he would focus on rebuilding Palamecia. He’d managed that once, back when he was younger and inexperienced. He would do it again. He sighed, glancing at the pile of paperwork that was already piled up on his desk, acutely aware of the cobra headpiece on his head.