Chapter 124
A passenger plane carrying the Balhut Cult slowly touched down at Ronald Reagan Washington National Airport. Nearby fighter jets escorted the airliner, and from the landed plane, American agents dispatched from the US and the Balhut Cult's operational staff began disembarking one by one.
"Mr. President."
"Yes. They've finally arrived."
Already thirty minutes before their arrival, President Arthur Anderson—not to mention his cabinet ministers—had been waiting at the airport for the plane to appear. The moment it arrived, they all tensed up with grave expressions, as if the appointed hour had struck.
This is driving me crazy. Me, the President of the United States, getting this tense.
In truth, summits between heads of state had been routine before the apocalypse, and with America always holding the upper hand, there was never any need for tension. They could demand whatever they wanted with utter confidence, and the other side would fall in line—even on foreign soil, the meetings proceeded smoothly.
But now? Not a shred of that advantage remained.
Fewer countries than expected managed to safeguard their treasury bonds. And with our key allies in the Five Eyes alliance effectively cut off... the Balhut Cult has become a vital partner for us.
America's crucial Five Eyes partners had either failed to preserve their bonds or fallen into coups and other dire predicaments. The United States was no exception. With state governments openly questioning the White House's authority and prestige, the need for allies to shore up that prestige had long been a talking point.
And the second reason...
Bahamut coins. Who would've thought the coins they mint would turn into a strategic resource on par with oil in this apocalypse? Our heroes and military are already losing their minds over them.
Bahamut coins. They could craft special bullets or serve as the mysterious catalyst in equipment enhancements recently developed by American artisans. Granted, the ability to produce powerful weapons alone didn't quite equate to oil-level value—but the surging monster hordes had skyrocketed demand.
Enemies emerged that our pre-apocalypse weapons couldn't touch.
The appearance of foes that could only be felled with mana had rendered half of America's vaunted arsenal useless. Of course, the Balhut Cult had hinted at such threats ever since their encounter with the ghost fleet, and the US had prepared accordingly, suffering minimal losses. Still, it had elevated the coins' value even further, with demand only growing—a painful reality.
To secure these now-essential strategic resources, America had to pull out all the stops. Public opinion was even shifting toward granting the Balhut Cult preferential treatment to win the war against monsters.
That was why President Arthur had come out personally to greet them. And at the same time...
"Is the dragon doing well?"
"Yes. According to the agent who flew with them on the plane, he's fine."
"I see."
...the overwhelming presence of Dragon God Bahamut weighed on his mind, whether he admitted it or not.
If it had just been the Dragon Priestess and her delegation, Arthur would have dispatched the Secretary of State to meet them while preparing a banquet back at the White House. But with the very Dragon God of the Balhut Cult—the one famed for minting those coins—visiting in person, he had no choice but to greet them himself. Even now, his body trembled faintly as he awaited the dragon's emergence from the plane.
The agents had reported that the dragon had taken human form, making it hard to pick out amid the group. But...
"I can tell who's the dragon."
"Yes. Me too."
Contrary to his inner worries, identifying the dragon was straightforward.
They'd received descriptions of his features and attire from the agents beforehand, but even at a glance, it was obvious.
Not a very human-like appearance.
Damn. That young hunk is the dragon?
The dragon had an inhumanly striking look and wore gleaming silver armor that exuded nobility. True to the reports, the figure stepping from the plane donned armor utterly out of place in the 21st century, his beauty otherworldly. Right behind him was the Balhut Cult's pontiff herself—familiar from photos—personally attending to the man.
"Pleased to meet you, President Arthur."
"Ah. Pleased to meet you as well. I am the 47th President of the United States, Arthur Anderson."
"I am the Pontiff of the Balhut Cult, Choi Yu-na. We are deeply grateful for the use of your dedicated aircraft."
But the moment passed quickly. With Yu-na stepping forward as the representative rather than the dragon, Arthur snapped back to his senses and shook her hand.
I knew it, but... she's really just a kid! A girl not even of age holding real power? I'd rather believe the young man beside her is the one in charge!
Yet inwardly, he remained unsettled. He'd questioned the reports multiple times: a child not yet an adult as the Balhut Cult's true powerholder? But upon seeing the Dragon God beside her, Arthur assumed he was the real force—and was about to address him when...
"Our representative is Yu-na. I am merely her friend, advisor, and partner. I have no intention of meddling deeply."
"I-is that so?"
As if reading his thoughts, Bahamut stepped back and declared Yu-na the spokesperson.
Arthur wondered if the dragon had pierced his mind, glancing at his guards and ministers—but they only looked puzzled at his behavior. They sensed nothing amiss.
Even the detection-type awakener among the security detail gave no warning for potential threats. In other words, the Dragon God before them had done absolutely nothing.
A coincidence?
As Arthur pondered the cult's true power structure, Bahamut interjected—voicing the very thoughts in his head. Suspicion was inevitable.
But he's no ordinary human. He's the so-called Dragon God. Can't shake the doubt.
"I do not interfere in human squabbles unless my contractor is deeply involved. Even then, if she can resolve it without me, I offer only advice. Think of me as Yu-na's ordinary aide."
And now another remark that seemed to read his psyche. Arthur wanted to dismiss Bahamut from suspicion, but it only deepened. Recognizing the dragon as extraordinary invited endless stray thoughts.
Wow, this guy's super tense because of me. Gotta lighten the mood a bit.
Of course, the clueless dragon hadn't intended that far—just assuming his presence caused the tension and offering clumsy consideration. Aside from striking at Arthur's pride, it amounted to a declaration that the Dragon God wouldn't join negotiations directly—reason enough for the American side to see it as a concession from the cult.
"The details of negotiations will be handled by our staff, so let's move past that. You have no idea how shocked we were by your talk of flying directly to America!"
"We just didn't have a passenger plane available for diplomatic trips. It was a real crisis."
"Haha. Since it's come to this, how about we gift you one of ours? The Balhut Cult must be feeling the need for diplomacy beyond just us, no?"
For the sake of his own nerves—and those of his cabinet—Arthur made a snap declaration to gift them a plane. Gasps rose from the American staff, but they understood his impulsive decision; no complaints emerged.
What if the cult lacked usable planes again? Bahamut might cross the Pacific personally once more. No one in the cabinet wanted to witness a colossal dragon invading American airspace. They inwardly cheered the president's resolve.
"Sorry for the concern."
"No, no. We were planning to invite you for the birth of an international organization anyway. Your positive response is help enough."
As Yu-na apologized on behalf of the group, Arthur seemed relieved to converse with her, gradually regaining his rhythm and continuing with diplomatic pleasantries.
"America, as the Balhut Cult's business partner, intends to help you obtain what the cult desires."
"Naturally, the Balhut Cult will assist America in securing the intangible values it seeks."
"Haha. That's reassuring. Well then, shall we begin the official schedule?"
From there, the official itinerary commenced. Handshake photo ops between heads of state, a banquet at the White House, the summit itself—all the standard ceremonial fare.
Of course, these were mere formalities; the real negotiations would be handled in closed-door meetings by the staff.
"If I may be so rude... are you really the Dragon God?"
"What sort of question is that?"
"No, it's just... handling the schedule so casually. It's hard to buy that you're a Dragon God. Feels more like an ordinary person acting the part to fool us."
During a break amid the ceremonies, Arthur let slip a hollow laugh, referencing Bahamut's demeanor throughout.
His gaze had been fixed on the dragon, yet Bahamut had delegated everything to Yu-na, acting the part of a mere spectator—almost a third wheel—just observing the proceedings. His occasional advice to her was the sort any aide or secretary could provide. He'd might as well have been a tourist gawking at the White House, which prompted Arthur's half-joking remark.
"I fully understand that sentiment. You've never seen my true form, so doubt is only natural."
"Haha, glad you get it. Truly gra—"
"So, if you'd like to see my true form, we'll need a wide-open space. Know a good spot?"
"—tful... Pardon?"
What was he saying now? Bahamut had just proposed to President Arthur:
"A place where showing my true form won't cause issues."
He intended to reveal his real self right here in Washington.
"To earn your trust, showing you the real me beats empty words."
"N-not wrong, exactly."
Bahamut had a point. Deeds convinced faster than talk. But for Arthur, it was like a bolt from the blue.
A chance to resolve all doubts... but the problem is, a dragon reverting to its original form might rampage.
They had to consider the risk of the dragon going wild in its true shape. Steven's endorsement vouched for his trustworthiness, but that was personal goodwill. Gambling a nation's fate on it? Unthinkable.
"Of course, I'll just show it and revert immediately—no destruction to worry about."
"Then we'll prepare a spot."
With Bahamut addressing the concern upfront, Arthur agreed to arrange a venue.
"That... is Dragon God Bahamut...!"
"No way, for real?!"
And so, America—the White House, at least—finally acknowledged the Dragon God's existence.
Awe gripped President Arthur and his entire cabinet as the colossal dragon descended upon the Presidents Park. Its majestic form left their jaws agape; no one could doubt Bahamut now, standing imperiously in the heart of the park.
"What the hell is that?"
"A dragon?"
The awe-inspiring sight was unmistakable even to nearby residents around the White House.