Holy Light City, in the Holy See's great hall.
Reynolds, the Seventh Order Dragon Knight temporarily overseeing the Holy Human Race, sat at a long table with a stack of parchment before him.
The parchment was densely covered with orders from the various races for portals.
The Elves, six.
The Dwarf Clan, five.
The Half-Orc Tribe, four.
Reynolds set down the parchment and looked at the other high archbishops of the Holy See.
"The various races have actually set aside their wariness of us and started buying our portals. Should we agree?"
High Archbishop Benedict snorted.
"Now that our Holy Human Race has weakened, naturally, they're no longer afraid of us using the portal coordinates to invade them like they were before."
"But there's no problem with letting them have our portals. Just raise the price."
With the Demon Clan threat eliminated and the external threat eased for the moment, the various races would naturally turn their attention inward.
On the surface, they were restoring their former glory and reclaiming lost territory. In reality, they were securing their own turf.
Their border garrisons were ostensibly defending against remnants of the Demon Clan, but in reality, they were guarding against neighboring races.
They were also buying portals to transport personnel and supplies, rebuild border cities, and make reinforcements easier.
All the races understood that with their lands and cities sparsely populated and distances so vast, they simply could not manage without portals.
As for the risk of exposing their coordinates?
Now that the Holy Human Race's Pope had fallen, its elite combat forces had suffered devastating losses, and its population was insufficient, how would it dare harbor any other ambitions in the short term?
For at least a hundred years, the Terra Continent should remain stable.
All the races needed time