Just then, the consistently silent Rover coughed lightly.
The sound was very soft, but in the suddenly quiet conference room, it was like a thunderclap.
All eyes instantly focused on him.
He didn't look at anyone. He merely looked down at his own fingers, speaking in a flat tone as if he were just stating a simple fact:
"No matter how the council is constructed, Laguna's order must not fall into chaos."
"Anyone, or any faction, that hinders the restoration of order, or even attempts to profit from the chaos and endanger public safety..."
He slowly raised his head. A cold light seemed to flow through his golden eyes as his gaze swept across the fiercely objecting priests.
"...will be deemed a public enemy of Laguna."
He didn't state what he would do, but that icy tone and the immense pressure it contained caused those priests to instantly turn pale. Cold sweat poured down their faces as they froze in place, entirely unable to utter another word of opposition.
A flash of wild joy crossed the eyes of Antonio and Marco, who had already paid a visit and secured their front-row standing.
The corners of Cantarella's lips curled into a satisfied arc, as if she had expected this all along.
Old man Francis chuckled, smoothly stepping in to mediate:
"The Crown's concern for Laguna is absolutely right! Security is naturally of utmost importance, and Family Head Cantarella's proposal is very reasonable. We can deliberate on the details later. So, regarding the composition of this committee..."
Zanni remained standing silently in the shadows behind Coletta's chair. Her gaze mostly lingered on those Convent priests, assessing their threat levels and staying alert for any signs of sudden trouble.
She had no interest in political games; she had only one duty—to protect her Second Young Miss.
Outside the bounds of the conference table, Cleric Phoebe—who wasn't seated with the factions but sitting off to the side as a recorder—kept her head down the entire time. Her pen flew across the paper, recording the meeting's contents, though her fingers trembled slightly from nervousness.
She heard the priests' arguments and calculations, heard Francis's slick and shrewd words, heard Cantarella's aggressive demands for power, and heard Rover's seemingly flat yet highly intimidating warning...
Her pure heart suffered a massive shock.
So this was what the "discussion of major affairs" among the Convent's upper echelon looked like?
A group of usually dignified, high-ranking priests were actually arguing until they were red in the face at a conference table, entirely lacking the proper, solemn decorum expected of clergy members.
For the first time, she began to doubt her superiors' rhetoric about acting "for the future of the Convent."
While recording the meeting, she would occasionally steal a glance at Rover. Her violet eyes were filled with complex emotions—unease, confusion, and a nearly imperceptible trace of reliance.
The meeting continued in a delicate and tense atmosphere, forcibly suppressed by the heavyweights of the various factions.
The parties began a lengthy and difficult negotiation over the council's structure, seat allocation, and division of authority.
Cantarella and Francis echoed each other, tacitly carving up the core powers.
Coletta tried her best to offer constructive suggestions, gradually finding her footing in the negotiations.
Under Rover's invisible deterrence, the various Convent factions were forced to make varying degrees of compromise.
And Phoebe underwent a silent, soul-cleansing baptism in this feast of power-carving that she had never imagined possible.
Rover mostly remained silent. Only at critical junctures would he occasionally drop a weighty sentence or a single glance, which was enough to sway the direction of the meeting and ensure the overall situation didn't derail.
Laguna's new power structure was painstakingly taking its initial shape in this turbulent four-party talk.
A while later, the meeting entered its most central and difficult phase—determining the seat allocation and voting mechanism of the "Provisional Council."
The air seemed to freeze, the previous arguments replaced by an even tenser, more calculating silence.
Francis Mortari, still wearing that beaming smile, was the first to throw out a proposal:
"Since it is called a council, we naturally must gather wise counsel and consider all parties. This old man proposes setting the total number of seats to thirteen."
"As for the seat allocation... My Mortari family has managed Laguna's commerce for years and deeply understands the hardships of the people's livelihood. We are willing to shoulder a bit more responsibility and field five representatives on the committee."
Before his voice even faded, Cantarella's languid voice rang out, carrying a trace of mockery:
"Old man Francis is certainly brave in taking on responsibilities. However, maintaining Laguna's stability relies on more than just commercial circulation."
"The Fesale family is deeply rooted here, and there are some domains that probably cannot be settled with just money. Therefore, we also want five seats."
As soon as the two Family Heads opened their mouths, they directly snatched up ten seats, instantly excluding the Convent right on the spot as if they didn't even exist.
The faces of the six Convent priests immediately turned extremely ugly.
Antonio hurriedly stood up, his voice pitching higher:
"You two Family Heads, this... this is a bit unfair! The Hidden Sea Convent has the deepest roots in Laguna, with countless believers, and is moreover... the core of this recent upheaval! How can you marginalize us like this?"
"The core?" Cantarella raised an eyebrow, her blue-purple eyes sweeping coldly over them. "Do you mean the core that created the mess of the underwater Proving Ground, or the core that couldn't even keep an eye on its own Prelate, resulting in the current leaderless state?"
Her words were like poisoned needles, pricking the priests until their faces flushed red, utterly unable to refute her.
Francis chuckled, smoothing things over:
"Ah, Family Head Cantarella is being too harsh. Our friends from the Convent are naturally an important party as well. It's just that for these seats, we must consider practical contributions and capabilities."
"In this old man's view, the Convent still needs internal integration, and your opinions are hard to unify. Having too many seats would instead easily lead to internal friction, which is detrimental to efficient decision-making. For now... how about three seats?"
With a casual remark, he tried to slash the vast majority of the Convent's representation, practically sending them to eat at the kids' table.
"Three seats is absolutely out of the question!"
Priest Alex also stood up excitedly in opposition. Although he and Antonio didn't get along, they had to stand united on such a major issue of principle.
"This is fundamentally stripping the Convent of its right to speak!"
The meeting once again fell into a stalemate.
Mortari and Fesale had perfect tacit understanding in suppressing the Convent, but they refused to yield an inch to each other in their own fight for seats.
"Four!"
Antonio almost gritted his teeth as he stated the number, veins bulging on his forehead.
"The Convent must have at least four seats! Otherwise, we cannot justify this to our colleagues!"
"Four seats?"
Cantarella chuckled.
"Giving you four seats, plus Mortari's five, makes nine. If my Fesale also wants five seats, wouldn't this council become a joke? Or... is old man Francis willing to give up a seat?"
Francis immediately shook his head:
"Mortari is tied to Laguna's economic lifeline and bears a heavy responsibility. Five seats is already our absolute bottom line."
Seeing that they were about to start arguing again, Rover once again tapped the table lightly.
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