'Shortcuts' and the Speaker

The group of Trolls returned beneath the tree. The young witch doctor pressed his palm against the thick trunk. As he chanted an incantation, the enormous tree began to tremble.

The densely packed leaves shrank and burrowed completely into the branches;

The smaller branches merged into the larger ones, then vanished altogether from the top down;

The trunk grew thinner and shorter, while its roots drew in from the soil and returned beneath the tree;

In the end, the entire giant tree disappeared. In the spot where it had stood appeared a solid cube, three meters to a side.

"As you can see, we've given the witch doctor version of the 'treehouse' a degree of 'portability.' Although three meters to a side is still a little large, we can't see any hope of making it smaller in the near future. And now, it's yours."

"Hm? That won't do. You're forcing this gift on me too hard—I can't accept it."

"It's fine. I've already thought it through. From now on, whenever the tribe gains another married couple, I'll give them a treehouse. You merely happen to be first in line."

At that, Blade Tusk silently stared at the newly promoted witch doctor before him for a long while, until the latter lowered his head uneasily.

"Tell me, whose cunning idea was this? Witch Doctor Sharp Tusk's?"

The young Troll awkwardly scratched at his fangs, putting on a foolish grin in an attempt to muddle through.

Blade Tusk shook his head, warning in his voice.

"Whether it was Witch Doctor Sharp Tusk's idea or your own, I must advise you to put aside these 'little schemes.'"

"This method of advancing a policy through 'guidance' is indeed workable. But using petty cleverness to sidestep the opposition is wrong."

"You may succeed this time, but what about next time? In the future, when factions with opposing views fail to persuade you, won't they follow your example?"

"If this continues, every Troll will start seeking 'shortcuts.' Will the tribe's deliberative system still have any reason to exist? A short-term convenience may, in the long run, become damage to the very foundations. In the end, the loss will outweigh the gain."

"Even... forget it. Go tell those supporters that this matter must be decided by the Rune Council before it can be implemented."

"I understand. I... I'm sorry." The young witch doctor wiped the smile from his face and answered somewhat dejectedly.

"Then what about this treehouse?"

"Take it back. If the proposal passes, then bring it back and give it to me."

"All right."

"Mm, go. Remember to pass on my words."

The young witch doctor nodded and hurried away. The cube remained where it was. The tribe had yet to develop the profession of "thief," so there was no fear of it being stolen.

Watching the "youngster" depart, Blade Tusk's eyes grew thoughtful.

Earlier, he had not dared voice all of his concerns.

Once they opened this door and left them with the notion that "taking shortcuts is good," it might become a political tradition, deeply engraved into the genes of Troll society.

But in truth, there was another kind of "shortcut"—killing.

Once they realized it, or naturally came to the conclusion that "we just need to kill off the opposition"...

Once the butcher's blade was raised, it could never be sheathed again. From then on, bloody winds and rain would haunt Troll politics, becoming an eternal curse.

Of course, in his previous life, he had only been a half-baked law student, with not the slightest experience in governing.

So, when all was said and done, these thoughts were merely groundless speculation. There was no basis for judging whether they were right or wrong.

Perhaps he was making a mountain out of a molehill? But there was no teacher here to correct him. He could only feel his way forward.

The next day, the Rune Council convened a full expanded-member meeting.

Before the formal proceedings began, Witch Doctor Sharp Tusk requested to speak, to the surprise of all the Trolls.

He walked to the center of the hall and stood upon the crude speaking platform. Facing the attendees seated around him in tiers, he frankly described his earlier "little maneuver" and apologized for it.

"What Witch Doctor Blade Tusk said struck me deeply. A shortcut that offers momentary convenience may become rotten wood that destroys the foundations. I will take this as a warning from now on."

After hearing his statement, the opposition led by the Head Witch Doctor expressed their displeasure at his crafty conduct. But since nothing had ultimately happened, there was no need to pursue the matter relentlessly.

Once this matter was settled, the deliberations should have formally begun. However, the absence of the Old Witch Doctor caused some confusion, and no Troll knew who ought to speak first.

Thus, the Head Witch Doctor rose to his feet.

"Though there is no formal title for it, in past meetings the Old Witch Doctor had, in practice, served as the presiding officer. Now that he has passed away, we need a member to take over his role in the Rune Council, and formally establish the relevant title, powers, and method of selection."

Naturally, none of the Trolls objected. They then spoke on the proposal in order of seniority.

In the end, they jointly established the position of "Speaker," along with its election method, powers, and so on.

A nomination system; election by simple majority; responsibility for presiding over routine standing expanded-member meetings—attended by the heads of each committee and the "government" executors; convening full Rune Council meetings—attended by committee heads and members; full expanded-member meetings—attended by everyone, the "government" executors, and apprentice council members; and possessing decision-making authority over deadlocked proposals.

It was certainly a rather rudimentary arrangement, but many flaws could only be noticed when the need arose.

So for now, this was the only way.

During the nomination stage, Blade Tusk became the sole nominee, and he was unanimously approved in the vote.

It gave him quite a headache. He had no desire whatsoever to involve himself in specific affairs—not because he wanted to lie flat and slack off, but because he truly felt this sort of thing consumed far too much energy.

He had intended to refuse, but recalling the earlier "shortcut incident," he changed his mind somewhat.

Perhaps I can serve as a safety catch? If I can leave behind a good political tradition, perhaps there will be far less bloodshed in the future.

With that thought in mind, Blade Tusk was formally elected the nominal first, but actual second, Speaker of the Rune Council.

Under the tribe's current "Rune Council regency" rules, for a certain period from this point onward, he would be the one truly steering the tribe's helm.

"Ahem. Thank you all for your trust. I will now put forward my first motion since taking office."

The Trolls watched eagerly, wanting to see what sort of proposal this "legend" would bring forth.

"Mm. I request that the council establish a term limit for the position of 'Speaker,' and I propose it be set at 'ten years.'"

Upon hearing this proposal, Sharp Tusk and Rough Tusk—the two Witch Doctors unknown to the other Trolls—as well as the current First Consul and several others, all revealed looks of relief.

Blade Tusk himself might not have realized it, but among all the tribe's "people of insight," he actually possessed absolute prestige.

Trolls such as Sharp Tusk and Rough Tusk trusted him deeply as well, yet they had always harbored a faint concern.

They feared that this young Troll might walk the path he himself had once called that of a "lone tyrant and enemy of the people."

Only now, seeing him voluntarily place limits upon himself, did they truly breathe a sigh of relief.

PS: Let me emphasize this: writing about councils, speakers, and so on does not mean I think they are absolutely correct.

I read novels too. Honestly, I'm a little aesthetically fatigued by all those "overbearing emperors," so I wanted to write something different. I didn't want to create another godlike, wise and brilliant sovereign.

I welcome readers' criticism, but please go easy on me.