Chapter 361
Ezinne bowed her head slightly in acknowledgment of Nwadiebube’s order, her gaze lingering on him for a moment longer. The tension in his posture, the subtle tremor in his clenched fist—it all spoke volumes. She knew Nwadiebube well enough to recognize the weight of his unease, even if he refused to voice it.
"Very well," she said softly, turning away to leave the courtyard. The branch in her hand pulsed faintly, as if resonating with her own concern. She would contact the Merchant of Death again, though she doubted even the strongest bodies could quell the storm brewing within Nwadiebube’s soul.
As she departed, Nwadiebube stood rooted in place, his gaze fixed on the faint shimmer of spectral energy still dancing in the air where she had vanished. His thoughts churned like a restless tide, each one louder than the last. Had he truly offended Ikenga, the god of nature and curses? The silence of the deity weighed heavier than any words could. It wasn’t a reprieve—it was a void. The kind that ate away at his resolve, leaving behind only uncertainty and dread. Every passing moment without a sign felt like a clock ticking down to something he couldn’t see, let alone prepare for.
His mind wandered to Osita. The clash between them felt inevitable, something written into the fabric of his life. He just hadn’t expected it to come so soon. Deep down, Nwadiebube knew why—it was his own actions that had hastened the confrontation. That realization should have filled him with regret, but instead, a strange acceptance began to take root.
If Ikenga’s punishment was coming for him, why not make use of the time he had left? Why not leave behind something great, something that would echo long after he was gone? The thought was both a defiance and a resignation. If his days were borrowed, he would spend them turning his kingdom into an empire, carving out a legacy his people would remember. To do that, Osita’s kingdom had to fall. It was a bold gamble, but if he succeeded, only the apelings would stand in his people’s way to mastering the continent and its riches.
A bitter smile crept across his face. He’d once been naive enough to think declining Yuki’s request for an alliance would win him favor with the apelings. But now, with his plans taking shape, he realized he would need their help after all. That alliance could be the key to securing his ambitions, even if it came at a cost he hadn’t fully measured.
Tomorrow, Zephyr was scheduled to visit. They were supposed to discuss the rising problem with Björn’s priests, but Nwadiebube had something else in mind. He’d been crafting a proposal, one that carried more risk than certainty. Given their strained relationship, there was every chance Zephyr would refuse. But if Zephyr agreed, it could shift everything. It would mean no need to ally with Björn’s followers and Yuki, no need to tread dangerous ground with a god whose influence was spreading like wildfire.
The next morning arrived with the faint glow of dawn spilling over the horizon. Nwadiebube stood on the palace balcony, his hands resting on the stone railing as he watched his people stirring to life below. Farmers carried tools to their fields, merchants set up their stalls, and soldiers patrolled the gates. Life went on, as it always did, indifferent to the weight of his decisions.
His thoughts swirled as he waited for Zephyr’s arrival. What would it take to convince someone like Zephyr? Their history was complicated, marked by uneasy "alliances" and moments of betrayal mostly on his side. Yet, Nwadiebube had to try. The stakes were too high to let pride or past grievances cloud his judgment.