119. Voluntary Dissolution and New Tasks from International Organizations
The dissolution of parliament by its own volition. New tasks from international organizations. And even the internal political reforms of the Balhut Cult following the disbandment of the grand coalition cabinet. Even as they waged war against the Immortal Cult in Ulsan, the Balhut Cult thrashed about, ceaselessly seeking new paths forward.
None of these could be resolved in the short term. Rebuilding international organizations required every U.S. ally to agree before even the first spade of earth could be turned. The same held true for the Balhut Cult's internal political reforms after the grand coalition's dissolution—they, too, demanded time.
Thanks to the peculiarities of the apocalypse, swift legislation and administrative processing were possible. But there was one special event that simply couldn't be handled quickly.
"Thus, the Yongsinhoe demands the voluntary dissolution of parliament from Lord Bahamut."
"The Heonmin Democratic Party concurs. We likewise demand voluntary dissolution from the Dragon Priestess."
After the grand coalition cabinet dissolved, this latest meeting—another tacit grand coalition—immediately demanded parliament's dissolution right there on the spot. It wasn't a dissolution due to a no-confidence vote against the cabinet, but a self-imposed one through parliament's autonomous resolution.
Parliament had already unanimously approved the dissolution. Now, they simply formally requested it from Bahamut and his proxy, the Dragon Priestess Choi Yu-na.
"Very well, I accept your proposal. From this day forth, the current parliament shall dissolve."
"Next week, on New Year's Day, Sunday, January 1st, we shall hold a general election for National Assembly members. Does anyone object?"
"""No objections."""
Bahamut and Choi Yu-na accepted the assembly members' request for dissolution on the spot, and parliament was disbanded immediately. With that, every member lost their seat from that day forward. Next week, on New Year's Day, January 1st, history's first general election for National Assembly members would take place.
"Let's settle this."
"Yeah. And we can gauge internal sentiment while we're at it."
However, their tacit grand coalition didn't end there. From the start, their push for voluntary parliamentary dissolution and a general election was less about securing their parties' legitimacy and more about definitively confirming the cult's internal public opinion.
Private journalists and pollsters were already surveying cult members' views, but that hardly captured the full picture. Proof lay in the extra-parliamentary parties advocating Dragon Slayer as official policy, or the lunatics insisting Bahamut was a dictator. The two major parties saw this election as essential to truly understanding internal sentiment.
"Above all, we can emphasize that we're restoring democracy."
"To maintain our alliance with America long-term, we need to highlight the recovery of democracy on the Korean Peninsula."
Secondly, it was about restoring democracy. Before the apocalypse, it had been the universal ideology and system, and South Korea a democratic nation. This meant a return to a familiar system for Koreans and a way to shed the image of a notorious religious group externally.
It was also a step to improve relations with America, which had always valued democratic ideals, while addressing the Balhut Cult's infamy on the peninsula. If they became a democratic nation rather than a pseudo-religious state, expectations ran high that the cult's bad reputation would gradually fade.
"Of course, it won't solve everything completely."
"Still, holding an election lets us show the world we're a democracy."
To that end, communities were already buzzing with massive promotion of Yeongnam's first general election. Before this meeting, the Yongsinhoe and Heonmin Democratic Party had plunged into public opinion campaigns and electioneering to win votes. Party members were out on the streets campaigning, dangling countless promises to capture public interest.
"To prevent any ridiculous conspiracy theories about election fraud."
"We should entrust the institution to someone as impartial as possible. How about leaving it to Lord Bahamut?"
And to prepare for any contingencies, they asked Bahamut to oversee election management. Every election season brought baseless fraud conspiracies, which they'd logically debunked—but even after relentless fact-checks, the term "election fraud" had seeped deep into society.
So, to counter those theories and ensure no one could call this election fraudulent, they'd hand it to the most neutral entity of all: the Dragon God! It was a simplistic, one-dimensional idea, but...
"That's a good idea."
"It makes sense when you think about it."
If the Dragon God himself managed it—not human hands—everyone would trust the process. And if fraud conspiracies still cropped up afterward? Well... cross that bridge when they came to it!
I'm so busy as it is!!!
Of course, Bahamut, saddled with this unexpected new task, could only clutch his head and lament.
Bluntly put, Bahamut's workload was far too heavy for election oversight. "My daily schedule starts with waking up to supply water and power to Gyeongju and Pohang. At the same time, I mint Bahamut Coins for the cult and America. I advise on incoming reports to the cult. Weekends mean counseling visiting cult members. Emergencies require borrowing Yu-na or Seol-hwa's sight or using magic to scout areas. I patrol for threats near Gyeongju and Pohang. And now cult awakeners want me to oversee practical magic research for civilian and military use on the side!? And election management on top!? Aigoo! Aigoo! I'm dying! I'm dying!"
Yes, his current tasks were overwhelming. If they ranked the cult's busiest, it would be the Dragon Priestesses at the top and Bahamut. He supplied energy resources to Gyeongju and Pohang, produced Bahamut Coins for cult and American use. A single snap solved it, and he'd systematized it so it wasn't too hard—but he juggled it with everything else.
Unmentioned, but he personally handled urgent requests or proposals from Special Envoy Steven David. Other tasks piled up, and clearing them daily was his routine. Still...
"No helping it."
This timid dragon couldn't refuse their plea. If they'd tried to foist it off casually, he'd reject it outright and have no intention of doing it. But their justification—preventing potential election fraud conspiracies—was ironclad. Bahamut knew pre-apocalypse communities burned with such theories each election. In this apocalypse, if they erupted, who knew what chaos? Back then, basement Lü Bu's online rants could be laughed off or ignored. Now, that Lü Bu might be an awakener. If groups of them rallied around fraud claims, countering would be a nightmare.
"Have Yu-na run the Central Election Management Committee."
"Understood, Dragon God."
"If needed, seek advice or help from America."
Fortunately, Bahamut had a proxy in the Dragon Priestess for this. He immediately delegated election management to Yu-na. Realistically, handling all his duties plus perfect election oversight was impossible.
Everyone sees Yu-na as my proxy anyway, right? This should be fine. Yeah.
More and more in the Balhut Cult viewed Choi Yu-na as Bahamut's representative. With the Heonmin Democratic Party even built around that logic, he resolved to center everything on her and promote the Dragon Priestess.
Any more work and I'll drop dead! I want to play! I want to live!
Honestly, any more tasks and he'd face the unfunny fate of overwork death!
"And to prepare for contingencies, both I and the Dragon Priestess shall always abstain from voting. Strive to maintain neutrality, Dragon Priestess."
"As you command."
He hadn't delegated thoughtlessly; he'd prepared for risks. To the world, unlike Bahamut, Yu-na was human and could favor one side. Mindful of that, he instructed her to always abstain and maintain political neutrality.
"But I don't have voting rights yet. For the general election, I'll be 17. According to the Balhut Constitution, I'm a year short."
"Ah."
One issue: Yu-na, tasked with election management, lacked both voting and candidacy rights. The election was next week on New Year's; she'd turn 17 by full age that day. Like South Korea's constitution—which theirs mirrored—the Balhut Constitution granted rights only to those 18 or older. Legally, she couldn't vote on election day.
"Seol-hwa doesn't have rights either. She's 15 on election day."
"Ah."
Same for the younger Seol-hwa. She'd likely command the fleet for East Sea security, but legally, neither Dragon Priestess—Choi Yu-na nor Baek Seol-hwa—had rights. They were minors ineligible for this election.
What? That's scary, I didn't realize.
Only now did Bahamut register his contractors' ages—17 and 15—staring blankly. They'd always responded maturely, treated as adults, but they were still minors needing protection. Yet they ruled Gyeongju and Ulsan as monarch and governor.
"Right. It's preparation for any new Dragon Priestess."
"Brilliant! That makes sense."
Accounting for that, he framed it as foresight for future priestesses. In truth, he'd just realized their ages and made an excuse—but as he said, setting precedents avoided future issues.
With election management successfully delegated to Yu-na, Bahamut faced the problem that...
"I still have work left...!"
Magic development? The now-established mage clubs would handle it with his support—occasional advice or demonstrating original spells for them to dissect and enjoy.
What Dragon God Bahamut prioritized most now was...
"Winning the war."
Victory over the Immortal Cult. Amid international diplomacy and internal reforms' chaos, survival in this apocalypse was paramount. Victory over zombies—no, undead—regardless of means.
Zombies resist poison gas anyway. America holds back on drones and WMDs due to optics.
The undead foe limited lethal options. They had the undead hard-counter Turn Undead spell, but only Yu-na, Seol-hwa, and Bahamut could cast it. Elsewhere, new weapons were needed against undead advances.
"Finally, the first prototype."
Through U.S. cooperation, he'd imported various ores, using Magic Craft to infuse them with mana—like their staple Bahamut Coins.
"This will be our trump card to win the war."
At last, his efforts bore fruit. Gazing at the eternally un-tarnishable silver in his hand, Bahamut smiled, as if all his labors had been rewarded.