After Alexander's accusation, the hall plunged into a charged silence. Kayris Golden-Ember's pudgy face contorted through a series of grimaces before settling into an expression of utter disdain, his third chin prominent as his substantial stomach jutted forward. 'Fat bastard,' Alexander thought, nearly losing his composure as he waited for Kayris to respond. He seized the quiet moment, letting it linger to sow doubts among the clans gathered around them.

The truth was far more straightforward—only Pascal, Lila, and select members of the Moorgrelian nobility knew that Alexander had used the refugees as a means to secure part of the island. His motives were layered: addressing security concerns, crafting a charitable image, and even supporting Lila's dim-witted sister's wager—all while ensuring his hands appeared clean in the end. Even the prospect of war would have been advantageous, allowing him to profit by supplying weapons and resources while ensuring the refugees became an untenable burden for the Essence Alliance.

Nobody wanted to fight desperate folk struggling for a piece of land deemed worthless. Orbis, far larger than Earth, had its value systems shaped by mana, making it an entirely different concept. Some areas were considered absurdly useless.

Circumstances, however, forced him to scramble for a solution. Besides the obvious, now that they had uncovered a dungeon in that territory, its potential value soared. Before it could be fully exploited, he would need Pascal's closer cooperation since territorial gains of this nature often sparked conflicts.

Drawing Pascal closer to his side was relatively easy, given her modest standing within the Essence Alliance. Alexander had already set plans in motion to fracture a significant portion of the Essence Alliance, spreading rumors within her territory to shift opinions, stoke jealousy, and sow discord.

Before Alexander could muse further, Kayris lumbered forward with the gracelessness of an elephant, straightening his posture as he radiated condescension. "I see," he said, his voice gruff and disdainful, "and this spectacle is your doing?" He shifted his gaze to the strikingly beautiful djinn woman, who watched him with an air of muted amusement. "Are you using this creature to stir discord within our Alliance?"

Theressa Hearthstove rolled her eyes. "You have quite the imagination, Kayris," she replied, crossing one leg over the other with graceful poise. "You should know I have only the purest of intentions~," she added, her tone honey-sweet, drawing an angry twitch from Kayris.

Kayris Golden-Ember's eyes narrowed. "Is that so?" he asked, voice heavy with disdain as he looked back at Alexander. "That boy is clearly part of your… coalition of humble clans, isn't he?"

Theressa glanced curiously at Alexander, mischief dancing in her gaze. "What do you think, darling?"

Kayris flicked his third chin upward at Alexander. "Boy," he said, dripping condescension so thick that Alexander almost considered detonating the mana artifacts, powerful magical objects the Golden-Ember representative wore for protection. "Tell us the truth: why wear such ugly trinkets?"

Alexander forced a faint smile and gestured to his earrings. "I find them rather charming, don't you?" he replied. Inwardly, though, he noted that the conversation had veered, causing some attendees to lose interest, but nothing he couldn't steer back. "They have a certain heartwarming quality… Very welcoming and generous. And I love their food—oh, especially those little—"

Kayris's scornful tone abruptly cut him off. "Those lowly clans, you mean? Mr. Alexander, I'm utterly appalled by the disgrace you've brought into this hall, a place of deep historical significance." The deeply red-skinned djinn sighed theatrically. "Then again, what else could one expect? Birds of a feather flock together." His words oozed smug superiority, calculated to appeal to those who valued status and to belittle those deemed beneath them.

An uneasy hush fell over the gathering. Golden-Ember had crafted his words precisely, subtly demeaning beast-kin as little more than unruly pets. It was a calculated move to pacify the slightly more privileged djinn while alienating the clans that viewed Alexander as a promising ally, seeking to shame and humiliate them for their associations.

'This is going to be fun,' Alexander mused with glee, noting how Golden-Ember's attempt to insult had also inadvertently targeted someone else. 'He definitely doesn't realize what he's stirring.' He glanced at Lavafist, who watched with a fleeting smile that turned stony when Kayris's barb alluded to lowborn origins.

Through Peter's unmatched Nine-Fire intelligence network, Alexander had learned that Lavafist had risen from the slums, adopted by a mediocre clan, thanks to his prodigious abilities. That background was a tightly guarded secret he couldn't openly acknowledge without jeopardizing Lavafist's current political clout. Their initial meeting had been chilly because Alexander's knowledge of that secret looked dangerously close to blackmail. However, the time had come to show where he truly stood.

'It's time for my present,' Alexander thought, a sly grin tugging at his lips. Though his plan was chaotic and largely improvised, he could feel the pieces falling into place, heightening the audience's anticipation for the impending climax.

"I've seen that misery," he said, raising his voice. "A despair so profound I wouldn't wish it even on those who tried to murder me—those who bound me to a sickbed for months, humiliated me, shattered almost my spirit." His tone turned hoarse, tears brightening his eyes. "I know that sensation, and someone who treats those under them, their own kin, that way can't pretend they don't view others as pawns. I recognize that desperation—it's your clan's doing, isn't it?"

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A heavy silence followed Alexander's accusation. 'Come on,' he thought, locking his unwavering gaze onto Kayris Golden-Ember and Orayas Pure-Steam. Their fury simmered beneath a thin veneer of composure, like steam trapped in a sealed pot. 'That's right. Don't leave me hanging,' he mused inwardly, fully aware of the pressure building.

When Orayas looked ready to speak, Alexander worried his plans might unravel—but Kayris held her back. He studied Alexander with a sneer. "They call you a saint, right?" His smile broadened. "So why didn't you help them if you feel that despair? Could it be that your own kin matters more to you, and you shouldn't meddle in our matters?"

Alexander's eyes widened in mock disbelief. He recognized this tactic: Kayris aimed his barb at everyone else in the hall, not just Alexander. No matter how many nuances existed, he wanted to paint Alexander as hypocritical. 'Can't believe I have to thank my old theology teacher,' Alexander mused, having braced himself for the worst.

"Whoever shuts their ears to the cry of the poor will also cry out and not be answered." His calm words echoed around the chamber as he reached into his blazer and withdrew a wax-sealed envelope marked with a hearthstone sigil. Holding it aloft, he announced, "I'm establishing a charity here, The Hearthstone Embrace, as a counterpart to The Helping Paw. It will be led by djinn and beast-kin, for djinn and beast-kin, in this territory. I've already pledged my own funds—one hundred thousand gold coins—and His Majesty Lavafist has personally approved this endeavor."

Alexander locked eyes with Lavafist, whose momentary confusion shifted into an approving smile—one reflected by Theressa Hearthstove and John of Steel-Mountain. They represented a significant majority of clans but lacked the vast resources held by Golden-Ember and his associates, who favored "pure" fire-djinn lines. Pure-Steam, an extreme faction, had been pushed forward for reasons that were yet unclear.

A rising tide of excited murmurs spread among the hall's more minor representatives—those who knew of Alexander's success in Wolfsteeth and beyond. Their hope reverberated in hushed voices, and many remembered the positive transformations his charities had sparked elsewhere.

On a positive note, Alexander's decision to allow djinns from the Eros Alliance to join his school had profound consequences. These students, from lower clans and sent merely to observe, became catalysts for change. Everything shifted once their letters home described their experiences, and inspections confirmed their truthfulness. The school began receiving an influx of donations and an overwhelming demand to enroll more offspring. The loudest proposal soon became the idea of opening a school within the Eros Alliance itself—an idea Alexander was eager to embrace. However, such an exchange also drew heavy criticism, particularly from the faction Pure-Steam was part of, who viewed it with suspicion and disdain. The murmurs softened, and with Alexander present once more and proposing such a charitable initiative, many found it difficult to deny the merits of his efforts.

Orayas rallied herself, the confusion on his face replaced by mounting anger. She turned to Lavafist. "That animal cannot—"

Lavafist's voice thundered, cutting him off. "You want me to stop this young man from investing in my people?" Lavafist glared, though a quiet smile took shape at the corners of his mouth. "He'll feed, educate, and treat us with respect, as proven by the exchange students he's hosted—students who return to us with new insights." His voice dropped lower, echoing through the hushed hall. "You'd deny us that? Why?"

Kayris interjected, managing a crafty smile. "We'll accept the gold, of course, but perhaps we'll implement it differently." Beads of sweat glistened on his forehead. "How could a beast-kin know what we need? Are we supposed to go live in the forests again, hunting animals?"

The crowd grew more animated at this point, with reactions ranging from those who exploited the lowest to those who had suffered under such exploitation. Both sides sensed the precarious corrective in Alexander's proposal, whether they viewed it positively or negatively. In his own territory, Alexander wielded absolute authority, compelling businesses, and underworld factions to comply with his vision. However, power was fragmented here, leading to perpetual gridlock whenever a prominent clan perceived potential losses.

Alexander inwardly conceded that he was an outsider imposing his will, despite how cruel or unjust their system might be. None of that, however, concerned him. His determination to gradually reshape the world to suit his vision was unwavering, capitalizing on every ounce of potential he found.

'Time to steer the conversation back on track,' Alexander thought, recognizing that few things united people more than their shared hatred of war. He needed to use this sentiment now, weaving it into his strategy to unite the room and firmly shift the blame onto Kayris and Orayas.

He raised the envelope again, confronting Kayris Golden-Ember. "When you say differently, you mean skimming it off the top while your own people starve in wretched misery—while you bathe in luxury? Or," he nodded at Orayas Pure-Steam, "maybe financing the war, forcing your own kin to fight and die for no better reason than petty greed or prejudice? See how misery just because of something so nonsensical as lineage will—"

"Petty?" Something in Orayas Pure-Steam snapped as she interrupted Alexander. She slammed her staff on the ground with such force that even Kayris flinched. "We didn't start any war; if we ever do, it would be an honor for those lowlives to bend the knee!" Another blow of her staff unleashed a searing tidal wave of flame, an attack aimed at Alexander. Yet in an instant, Barry stood before him, clad in well-worn but reliable armor, effortlessly blocking the strike.

A blade hissed through the air, and John's measured tone—deep with disapproval—rang out. "My dear Orayas," he said, "we don't intend to provoke a conflict with the Moorgrelians who once overpowered the First Servants, do we? They killed three heroes' parties, and rumors claim a new Merlin has risen among them."

Alexander stared at the scene with genuine surprise—this had escalated more dramatically than expected. All the same, it was his chance to secure the crowd's support. "Look around," he called, his voice still rough from his recent brush with death. "A guest brings you gifts, and you try to kill him?" Turning to the hall at large, he continued, "Have I shown you any disrespect? No—I praised your culture and language. Have I threatened or shouted at you? I've honored your customs. Your Majesty," he added, meeting Lavafist's gaze, "have I ever insulted your loyal servants while I've been here? Not once!"

He spread his arms wide, gesturing toward Golden-Ember and Orayas. "If they call me a filthy animal, accusing me of bringing nothing but misery, death, poverty, and trying to get rid of me—do you really believe they wouldn't seize the chance to overrun a young Dame's territory? They're thieves! I," Alexander brought his hand toward his heart, "have the purest intentions! Can't you all see how I treat you like my kin but only got blocked by those with ill intent?"

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