121. General Election
New Year 2023 approaches, and the Balhut Cult holds its first major event: the general election. Though incomparable to pre-apocalypse Korean national elections in scale—with just 60 seats at stake—it revives the fervor of those heated campaigns enough to stir the blood.
Each party pushes its ideology and promises, pleading for votes. As the Balhut Cult's debut general election, it draws massive public interest. Hwang Geun-chul of Yongsinhoe and Park Cheol-gon of the Heonmin Democratic Party—both veteran politicians—throw everything into the race.
"I have no idea how this will turn out."
"It's traditionally a conservative stronghold..."
"And we've cut ties with the old political forces."
In truth, neither party has a clue. Pre-apocalypse, this was Yeongnam, TK territory—where conservatives dominated polls without question. But now it's the apocalypse. Catastrophe forced a generational shift, radically reshaping voters' mindsets by 360 degrees. Those who didn't adapt simply didn't survive this grim world. To endure the end times, citizens vote more cautiously for parties offering real survival plans.
Polls show Yongsinhoe and the Heonmin Democratic Party commanding enough support for a two-party system.
"Speaking of which, the Republican Party... So many nostalgic names."
"Even our old party names are in the mix."
"No need to dwell on it."
"Agreed."
While new apocalypse-era parties like Yongsinhoe and Heonmin Democratic emerged, some clung to pre-catastrophe legacies. Claiming true inheritance of Korea's parties, they demanded votes on that basis.
"Didn't work out for them, though."
"Color theory, North-sympathizer smears—none of the old rhetoric holds water anymore."
Unfortunately, it fell flat. With undead staring them down, outdated smears only disappointed voters. On this peninsula, survival—not abstract ideologies—tops concerns. Voters crave concrete long-term plans against the undead threat, tailored to end-times realities.
"Phew. We didn't serve as Bahamut's advisors for nothing."
"We know the nuts and bolts of fieldwork."
Hwang Geun-chul of Yongsinhoe and Park Cheol-gon of Heonmin Democratic had long gauged voter desires, drawing on their advisory roles under Bahamut to craft promises. Aligned with their leanings, each offered distinct plans—but united in providing specific solutions to Balhut's crises and the apocalypse.
That propelled them to victory in the one-day election.
"Yongsinhoe takes 28 seats, Heonmin Democratic 25. The rest scatter 7."
Yongsinhoe claims first place, Heonmin second, birthing a fragmented National Assembly.
"As expected... Promises centered on Bahamut really resonated."
"Conservatism's faded too. Heonmin putting up this fight? Pre-apocalypse, they'd scream election fraud and conspiracy."
Heonmin had anticipated Yongsinhoe's win but marveled at their failure to secure a majority. More shockingly...
"This signals a clean break from old ideologies."
Heonmin's whopping 25 seats shattered pre-apocalypse norms in this conservative bastion. Many nodded to their logic, casting votes accordingly. Sure, Heonmin housed surprise conservatives and familiar faces beneath its democratic banner—but this showing bordered on miraculous.
"Plenty of opposition scraping by with one seat. Even old names booted to the wilderness."
The fringes: legacy conservatives and democrats clinging to one or two seats. And...
"Whoa. Those guys survived?"
"One seat won't let them do much."
The Korea First Party—overt Dragon Slayers—snagged it. Excluding Bahamut and the Dragon Priestess, they preached democratic presidentialism and Korean independence. On paper, it smacked of retro nostalgia: discard the obsolete Balhut Cult, revert to free Korea. But...
"They're the ones backed by Jo Sun-do's remnants."
"Right. Rumors tie them to raiders and crime syndicates. Ask the National Tax Service for details."
"No kidding. Pay your taxes, and you're a model citizen—that's their line."
Jo Sun-do's old crew propped them up, with whispers of raider and criminal links from Gyeongju's dark days. Tempting to cry unconstitutional and disband them on the spot. But...
"Still, they were elected fairly. Let's watch."
No fraud tainted the vote. Their shady funds drew eyes, but one seat meant impotence. Above all, they couldn't mar the apocalypse's first election.
"Public sentiment backs Bahamut overwhelmingly."
"And the Dragon Priestess too."
"Let's maintain the grand coalition tacitly."
A tacit grand coalition sidestepped minor parties entirely, enabling legislation. Yongsinhoe and Heonmin united for end-times survival.
"The pivotal election's done. Yongsinhoe, with the plurality—recommend a prime minister."
"We nominate Representative Hwang Geun-chul."
"Very well. As of today, Prime Minister Hwang Geun-chul, form your cabinet in your name. Representative Park Cheol-gon will serve as Speaker."
"We humbly accept."
The spectacle didn't end there. Post-election, Choi Yu-na demanded Yongsinhoe's majority pick: Hwang Geun-chul as Balhut's first prime minister. Modeled on the UK constitutional monarchy's parliamentary system—Sera's shift to a constitutional monarchy under a parliamentary cabinet.
"Bahamut decrees: upon territorial gains, he may order full cabinet dissolution and re-votes. He promises no snap dissolution for a single city. Objections?"
"None."
Future conquests would swell the assembly with new reps, triggering eventual dissolution and re-election. But no hasty moves for minor gains—likely capping at constituency adds. No point rebelling; Ulsan alone demands three months, so half a year minimum in seats. Short for elected office, but an eternity in flux.
"Now, international organizations meeting. But first... To mark the assembly's birth, a distinguished guest. Enter."
With Choi Yu-na clearing the floor, a man appears. Clad in gleaming mithril armor, striding boldly to center stage. Lawmakers gape, especially as the Dragon Priestess bows deferentially.
"C-could that be Bahamut?"
"Indeed. I am Bahamut."
A lawmaker blurts it; the man smiles, affirming. The Dragon God graces the assembly's debut—in human form. Shock ripples through the chamber.
"Polymorph magic, huh? Hope 'disguised as human' flies."
"I-I see, but... you can transform?"
Sensing stares, Bahamut waves it off: magic disguise. But the absurdity lingers—they'd only known his draconic majesty.
"Always could. Pointless for my usual self, so unused. That's the truth."
He draws the line: inherent ability, skipped for irrelevance.
"Human form wins quick favor, but drawbacks abound. Mana output, physical prowess—all inferior to dragon. My true self is dragon; this feels like ill-fitting skins layered uncomfortably."
Humanoid means no draconic might. Polymorph weakens for convenience—like donning mismatched garb.
I wanted human form once too.
Bahamut had pondered it—fantasy buff, knew dragons polymorphed. Master mage, he nailed it effortlessly.
Stifling. Like overdressing in wrong sizes. Bleh.
Unlike liberating dragon bulk, human felt heavy, output throttled, oppressively stuffy. Unable to bear it, he defaulted to true form.
"End times prioritized over humanoid whims. But that era ends; needing a star for assembly, I surprise. Shocked?"
"Y-yes! Thought a shapeshifter crashed the party."
"Haha, give me some slack."
Special day indeed—he risked eternal dragonhood otherwise. Practice makes perfect.
Vowing refined polymorph someday, Bahamut surveys, then speaks.
"Anyway, Steven David begged me to shine at international orgs. For Balhut's global recognition, shouldn't we toss them prime meat? Demanding without giving reeks of banditry."
International reconstruction beckons. Bahamut persuades on its weight.
"Bahamut endorses joining international orgs?"
"Yes. U.S. goods enrich us now. Cut them? We survive, but not this life."
"That's..."
Lawmakers swallow hard, querying; he answers earnestly. Current bounty owes America—sever it, forfeit luxury. To foes, a citizen-beating death sentence.
Can't counter that!
Eat-and-live trumps ideology here! Ask if they'd ditch this for principles? Straight to the blade—or lead poisoning!
New parties eyeing divergence from majors felt the weight. Sophistry possible in theory, but reality screamed survival first. Citizens, blood-tasted, equated dissent to death.
How to retort? As they stew...
"I get peninsula tensions concern you. But winter gale rages. Military can't move now."
"Ah...!"
"Cold saps troops; we hold defense. Objections?"
Bahamut preempts war hawks, citing weather hobbling allies. Wait out winter—no more. Undeniable; rebuttal demands logic, lies, guts. Few try; seeing Yongsinhoe and Heonmin listen rapt, they peek glances, fold. Speaking invites dual pincer doom.
"Grumbles expected. Some deem our troops invincible—Pohang fell, why delay? I seek to minimize losses. One big defeat cripples Balhut forever. Thus, diplomacy over peninsula strife now."
"As you command."
"As you command."
Unopposed, Bahamut concludes masterfully. Choi Yu-na's cue, all bow—including Korea First's rep.