Chapter 280: Gifts and Suspicions
The Golden Rose Kingdom’s caravan advanced at a pace, flanked by Fenrir’s presence, until it pressed into the narrow corridor leading toward the village gate. The creaking of the wagon wheels echoed amidst a silence. On either side of the path, hundreds of Overlord tribe members—ranging from veteran warriors to armed civilians—stared at them with cold eyes and rigid stances, ready to trigger the traps at the slightest gesture.
Upon reaching the center of the corridor, Kellar stepped forward with steady strides, escorted by Grok and a cadre of elite captains. Raising a hand, the Great Shaman signaled a halt to the contingent.
"Halt right there," commanded Kellar, coming to a stop at a distance while Freyja locked her gaze from his shoulder and Ignis released a snort beside him.
Prince Caelen clenched his jaw so tightly that the muscles in his face strained, suppressing his rage and pride at the provocation of finding himself surrounded and treated like a cornered invader. Yet after a pause to regain his composure, he forced a smile and took a step forward.
"Greetings, Great Shaman Kellar," spoke Caelen in a clear voice. "We have witnessed your greatness and power. We are convinced that you are an extraordinary leader, capable of ruling and unifying this entire region. My father, the king, is a sovereign who treasures individuals of such greatness, and he has dispatched me in his name bearing these gifts."
With a formal wave of his hand, the servants and artisans accompanying the caravan proceeded to pull back the covers and unlatch the wooden chests atop the wagons. Sunlight reflected off mounds of gold, silver, and bronze coins; chests overflowing with gems, high-rank magical beast cores, bolts of fine fabrics, and crafted vessels of every description.
Kellar surveyed the display of wealth without a trace of greed or surprise flickering across his face. He kept his eyes locked onto the prince’s gaze.
"Young Prince," spoke Kellar in a calm tone, "you will understand that, given our recent history and the siege we suffered at the hands of your forces, it proves difficult for me to accept your generosity without suspecting the motives behind it all. I did not expect to see you back so soon."
Deputy General Valerius remained silent behind the prince, his hand resting near his sword’s pommel while maintaining a defensive posture.
"For that reason," continued Kellar, "I would like to speak with you in private. Should you harbor no ulterior motive, you are welcome to enter my quarters. I notice you do not bring along your silver-masked companion, so I shall permit your general to enter alongside you; I understand you might feel insecure stepping into our territory alone."
Prince Caelen inhaled, forcing a smile as he nodded to maintain composure; refusing the offer or wavering in front of hundreds of tribal warriors would amount to displaying cowardice for Golden Rose royalty.
Beside him, Deputy General Valerius stepped forward. Without prompting from anyone, he drew his longsword and drove it into the wooden bed of the lead wagon. Immediately following, he unclasped the buckles of his steel helmet, removing it to reveal his bare face, and unfastened the breastplate of his armor, letting it hit the wagon floor with a metallic clatter until he remained in a leather shirt.
Valerius strode toward the village gates with open palms and his head held high. Kellar observed the display with a raised eyebrow, surprised. This constituted his first test of their intentions: he distrusted them and sought to measure how far they were prepared to go to secure his audience. That the general had surrendered his weaponry and armor out of his own volition, requiring no demand, proved they arrived prepared to project submission.
"Grok," instructed Kellar, turning his head toward his captain, "have food and drink brought out for the remaining servants and escort party. Ensure they remain comfortable while we confer inside."
Kellar gestured with his hand, indicating the route toward the settlement’s interior. The shaman, flanked by a dozen of his primary captains, guided the prince and the disarmed general toward the great hall. The tribal command center was now larger and sturdier than during their initial meeting, expanded to accommodate the growing roster of officers and commanders the tribe had incorporated into its ranks.
Upon crossing the threshold and beholding the structure’s scale alongside the discipline permeating the space, Prince Caelen let slip a sigh of suppressed frustration. Kellar caught it, but offered no comment, merely gesturing for them to take their seats around the timber table.
As a gesture of goodwill and to avoid projecting hostility within the negotiation hall, each of Kellar’s captains unbuckled their axes and broadswords, placing them neatly upon the storage racks set beside the main entrance before taking their positions.
Kellar settled at the head of the table, laced his fingers together, and locked his gaze onto Golden Rose’s heir.
"Prince Caelen," began Kellar in a slow tone, "it is an honor to cross paths with you again so soon. Truthfully, we calculated our next encounter would transpire after some time... perhaps upon the battlefield or under different circumstances."
Despite maintaining verbal civility, Kellar’s stance radiated dominance. His words carried a sharp message: the tribe had not forgotten the previous affront and would settle the score on its own terms.
Prince Caelen held Kellar’s gaze without flinching. Far from dodging the mockery or giving in to the provocation, the heir of Golden Rose offered a bow of his head, maintaining an aura of solemnity.
"I comprehend your skepticism, Great Shaman," spoke Caelen in a deliberate tone. "The previous aggression suffered by your people was an act of folly driven by the unrestrained ambitions of my former subordinate, Varis. I extend an apology on behalf of the realm. Believe me when I tell you my wish was to capture Varis alive and deliver him unto your justice... yet when my father, the King, learned of the stupidity he committed by inciting an unnecessary war with your tribe, he flew into a rage and executed him on the spot. Thus, I could only bring this forth to attempt to appease your fury."
The prince extended his right hand over the table. Suddenly, the signet ring set upon his index finger emitted a flash of magical light. Within a fraction of a second, a chest crafted of solid gold materialized directly atop the wooden table, adorned with ancient engravings and encrusted with gems that glinted beneath the torchlight.
Kellar froze in his seat. His eyes widened as his mind processed the phenomenon unfolding right before him.
A spatial ring...? thought Kellar, holding his breath as shock coursed through every fiber of his being. Spatial storage artifacts actually exist in this world...!
The presence of an item of such caliber not only redefined the wealth of Golden Rose royalty, but opened a spectrum of strategic possibilities for the Overlord tribe.