Chapter 283: The Covenant of Royal Blood
Kellar observed the jewel upon the timber and let out a chuckle, leaning back as he slid the ring back toward the heir.
"Keep your trinket, Young Prince," spoke Kellar in a low tone. "I have no need to rob my new business partner... What I offer you is an alliance on my terms."
Caelen blinked upon recovering his artifact. Yet before he could exhale with relief, the shaman pressed on with his conditions:
"The first demand is simple: the Golden Rose Kingdom shall issue a formal and public declaration of recognition, acknowledging the Overlord tribe as the sole legitimate sovereign of all the forests south of your border."
The prince knit his brow in silence. To the crown, a paper document held no tangible value; should they decide to break the treaty and march against the village again, they could wipe them out regardless of signed agreements. Failing to grasp the political weight Kellar intended to derive from such recognition, Caelen nodded.
"We agree," replied the prince.
"The second point," continued Kellar, pointing a finger at him, "the kingdom commits to signing a one-hundred-year non-aggression treaty with us. Furthermore, you must permit the free transit of my tribe’s members across your territories, ensuring we trade and travel without suffering trouble or harassment from your nobles or troops."
Caelen nodded once more. A century on parchment meant nothing if continental diplomacy shifted, yet agreeing right now preserved his life.
"Accepted as well, Great Shaman."
"And the final demand I require," concluded Kellar, locking his golden eyes onto the prince, "is a seat at the table. I demand a permanent post within Golden Rose’s Council of Elders—an Overlord tribe representative who may voice opinions, influence policy, and whose vote carries weight in your realm’s governing decisions."
This time, Prince Caelen hesitated. Granting a seat in the crown’s council to a tribal leader was an unprecedented concession. Yet upon assessing it in his mind, he concluded that once the crisis with Aethelgard and Valoria settled, the high nobility could ignore or neutralize such a representative. The priority remained walking out of this place alive.
"I accept your terms," declared the prince, striving to project firmness.
Kellar formed a smirk, retrieved a swatch of fine silk cloth from the desk, and using a bone stylus, drafted every single condition. Upon finishing, he spread the cloth across the table.
"I shall have to trouble you a bit, Prince," said Kellar.
"I did not bring the royal seal of the crown to validate this..." noted Caelen.
"Do not worry," cut him off the shaman with a cold stare, "a single drop of blood will suffice."
Seeking to avoid lengthening the negotiation or giving Kellar cause to reconsider, Caelen drew a small dagger from his tunic, made a nick across his thumb, and allowed several crimson drops to fall upon the script.
"Press your finger right here," instructed Kellar, guiding the prince’s hand to stamp his bloodied print onto the contract.
Once the covenant was sealed, Kellar retrieved the cloth, surveyed the royal mark, and offered his glass to his new ally.
"I am convinced this shall mark the inception of an alliance between our realms—one that will render us all prosperous."
Kellar folded the silk cloth and stood up, bringing the meeting to a close.
"Grok, escort our guests so they may rest in the honor quarters," commanded Kellar. "Open the main gates and permit full entry to the supply caravan. In the morning, Young Prince, I shall allow you to behold the special gift I have prepared for you."
Prince Caelen released a sigh of relief, his thumb still throbbing from the cut. Accompanied by General Valerius, he departed the hall under the escort of the tribal guard. The heavy entrance gates swung open, allowing the wagons laden with riches and supplies to roll inside the village perimeter.
Once the hall cleared and the diplomats moved out of earshot, Grok stepped closer to the shaman with a furrowed brow.
"Great Shaman, could you enlighten me?" asked Grok, scratching the back of his neck. "I may be dull in these matters, but even I realize that spatial ring he offered is worth more than everything we currently hold in our storehouses. Why did you decide to hand it back instead of taking it?"
Kellar formed a smirk as he tucked the blood covenant into his tunic.
"Precisely because of that, Grok. The young prince is terrified, and his realm shares that fear, but I am willing to bet that ring holds immense value to the crown. The king only entrusted it to him because of how important Caelen is to him. That confirms to me that he is the direct heir to the throne, or at least one of the primary contenders."
"I still fail to grasp it, Great Shaman..." admitted Grok, tilting his head.
"It is simple: if we strip him of the ring, when the king learns of what transpired, one of two things will happen," explained Kellar. "The first is that the king will fly into a rage and dispatch his military apparatus to try and exterminate us, driven by the fury of having lost a priceless artifact of his realm. The second is that they will not strike immediately, but will harbor that resentment in their hearts waiting for revenge. Remember what we have discussed: we are not attempting to initiate an all-out war with them right now; we are merely buying time to upgrade our weaponry and fortify the tribe."
Kellar walked over to the window, gazing at the village lights flicking against the twilight.
"Slowing down every negotiation process and executing every move with restraint ensures they hold us in high diplomatic esteem without viewing us as an immediate threat they must wipe out at all costs. When the time is right, we ourselves shall pay them a visit... and that ring will eventually be ours without having spilled rivers of blood over it prematurely."
Grasping the strategy, Grok thudded his fist against his chest with admiration.
"You are wise, Great Shaman."
"Before you leave, Grok," added Kellar, turning back with a stern gaze, "dispatch a supply convoy with food and top-quality provisions to Brak and Lennis at the northern worksite. Instruct them that under no circumstances are they to return to the village for now. We cannot allow Golden Rose to learn of Karkadann’s existence or overhaul; he shall remain our secret weapon when the hour arrives."