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Chapter 757   Negotiating VI

The scene within the mental network was a stark contrast to Aron’s calm demeanor. Anger boiled over, with most participants venting their frustrations freely, no longer holding back. However, three groups remained conspicuously silent amid the uproar.

The Xor’Vaks were quiet, having already accepted the empire’s audacious demands. The Valthorins, bound by their unyielding pride, refused to stoop to complaints, maintaining a dignified silence. Lastly, the Zelvora stayed composed, both due to their mental discipline and because, in the broader context of demands, what had been asked of them was relatively insignificant. Much of their racial abilities were public knowledge, limiting the risk of exploitation. If the empire\'s intention was to sell the gathered information, as many feared, the Zelvora knew they could easily safeguard against that by including restrictions in their agreement.

After what felt like an eternity to the silent civilizations, the rest gradually calmed down, their anger dissipating after venting their frustrations.

“Just like the Xor’Vak, we will be accepting their deal with one modification: the shared knowledge will remain exclusive to the Terran Empire, restricted solely to their use,” Xylor, the commander of the Zelvora fleet, announced. His composed tone carried the weight of a decision already made. He had contacted his leadership back home and received clearance to proceed as he deemed appropriate. n/o/vel/b//in dot c//om

The Valthorins, unwilling to be outdone or risk appearing fearful by proposing changes to the deal, swiftly declared their acceptance. “We agree to the terms as well, with the addition of the same condition: all shared knowledge must remain strictly confidential and for the Terran Empire’s use only,” their representative stated with unwavering pride, ensuring their stance aligned with the others without appearing weak.

With the acceptance from the Valthorins and Zelvora, the number of civilizations agreeing to the audacious terms rose to three. The room once again plunged into silence, heavy with tension, as the remaining representatives continued their discussions with their leadership back in the Conclave.

After about an hour of silence in the mental network, the representative of the Yrall Coalition finally broke the tension. “We will accept their deal if they include their ship technology in the list of our demands, considering they are asking for something of similar magnitude from us.” It was the first instance where a representative did not fully agree to the Terran Empire’s demands, instead proposing a counter-condition to balance the scales.

The Symetra followed soon after, agreeing to the terms without even requesting secrecy. They had no reason to guard their knowledge, as accessing Void energy and mastering the forging techniques required a unique combination of racial abilities. These abilities, shaped by the distinct conditions of their star system, were nearly impossible to replicate elsewhere. To them, sharing their knowledge was equivalent to handing over a nuclear schematic written in an unknown language—useless to anyone without the necessary background or context.

One by one, the remaining civilizations began voicing their acceptance of the Terran Empire\'s proposals, though many attached conditions or suggested limitations on the knowledge they were to provide. This approach was especially common among the smaller civilizations, which were more cautious. Unlike the top ten, who exuded near-certainty in their victory, these smaller powers couldn’t afford the same level of confidence. Protecting their interests, no matter how unlikely it seemed that they might lose, was a priority for them.

By the end of the negotiations, only two civilizations remained silent: the Shadari and the Trinarians. As masters of stealth and spatial manipulation, respectively, their technologies remained some of the greatest mysteries in the Conclave. Their hesitation drew attention, as the knowledge they guarded was highly coveted, yet their silence hinted at deeper calculations regarding the risks involved. All eyes turned to them, waiting for the final verdict from the two enigmatic powers.

Although the Trinarians were confident in their fighters—nearly as fearsome in close combat as a Xor’Vak royal—they were still reluctant to risk their technology. Unlike other civilizations\' unique abilities, which were often limited by racial traits, the Trinarians\' spatial technology was different. It was one of the rare systems that could, theoretically, be utilized by anyone with the right resources. The only reason the Trinarians had maintained a monopoly was their natural affinity for spatial manipulation and highly specialized mental architecture, skewed toward performing feats no other species could easily replicate.

However, the danger lay in the possibility of the knowledge falling into the hands of someone capable of replicating their abilities or, worse, developing artificial workarounds—something the Trinarians themselves excelled at, as seen in their wormhole technology. Although they had created simplified versions of the technology for other civilizations, distributed under strict mana-bound oaths. This would effectively strip them of the leverage they held over others, potentially birthing a rival force capable of threatening their position.

For the Trinarians, even entertaining the remote possibility of creating a competitor was unacceptable. Regardless of how unlikely defeat seemed, they had no intention of letting such knowledge leave their grasp.

As for the Shadari, they were among the most anxious members of the top ten civilizations, though they masked it well. Their concern might seem excessive, but while the other top members estimated the Terran Empire\'s chances of victory at 0.2 percent, the Shadari placed theirs at a precarious 1 percent—an alarmingly high risk given their renowned abilities.

The root of their anxiety stemmed from the Empire\'s remarkable advancements in stealth technology, which had successfully eluded even the Shadari\'s sensors—renowned for their unparalleled effectiveness. While the Empire\'s demonstrated stealth capabilities were primarily associated with large machines and not attributed to any individual within the breaching forces, a lingering concern persisted: the possibility that the Empire might harbor an individual with exceptional stealth abilities.

If such an individual were to be utilized strategically, it could jeopardize the Shadari’s chances of victory. Moreover, the risk of the Empire gaining access to their own knowledge of stealth posed an even greater threat. Such knowledge, when combined with the Empire\'s existing technology, could very well topple the Shadari from their longstanding position as masters of stealth. This potential loss of their competitive edge weighed heavily on their minds, creating an atmosphere of unease that they struggled to conceal.

If members of the Conclave had overheard their concerns, they would have laughed them to death, viewing it as a giant fretting over the threat posed by an ant. The idea of such a powerful civilization being anxious about an insignificant competitor would seem absurd, as it appeared the giants were scrambling to find ways to avoid an unlikely downfall at the hands of a much smaller foe.

What held back these two civilizations, along with all others who had already accepted or proposed changes to the deal, from outright flipping the table was the prospect on the other side of the scale: mana stone and black hole bomb technologies. These advancements promised unimaginable riches and weapons of mass destruction, ensuring that if they won—a result almost certainly guaranteed—they would gain an overwhelming advantage that could make any civilization think twice before engaging them in battle.