Chapter 153 – The Gate of Diplomacy and the Shadows Behind Promises
Heavy but measured footsteps echoed from the direction of the valley as the forces of the Allied Races approached. Morning mist still clung to the ground when tall silhouettes emerged from behind the hill crests. They came in orderly formations banners bearing dragons, eagles, and crescent moons fluttered in the wind. Some rode armored horses, while others floated lightly above the ground using levitation magic.
But not a single one of them crossed into Sylvia’s domain. The moment a foot neared the border of her land, the air changed cold, silent, and leaving a metallic chill crawling up the neck.
Atop the main fortress, Varnak stood tall. His massive form cast a shadow over the tower edge, his weapon embedded in the stone floor, and his blazing red eyes fixed unblinkingly on the uninvited guests. The other zombie guards lined the walls like statues of death still and silent, but radiating an unseen pressure that pierced straight to the bone.
Meanwhile, inside the newly rebuilt castle, Sylvia strolled leisurely through the hallway. She wore a long black gown with violet accents on the shoulders, trailing softly with every step. No crown adorned her head only a black crystal hairpin. In her left hand, a steaming cup of tea; in her right, a rolled-up report.
At the entrance of the audience chamber, Celes waited, holding the latest intelligence from the scouts.
"They’ve brought two main representatives," reported Celes. "One is a high elf from the central forest Lyshanara. The other... a nobleman from the far east. Name undisclosed, but he wears a golden sun-red pendant. High blood symbol."
Sylvia nodded slightly. "So they sent one ancient tree full of pride and one human with an ego taller than my towers. Interesting."
"They’ve also brought eight heavily armed escorts."
"No peace mission starts with eight weapons," Sylvia said lightly.
She opened the door to the meeting hall a circular chamber with a large stone table at the center and skull-carved chairs around it. Purple flames flickered in the wall sconces, giving the room an eerie glow more suited for summoning rituals than diplomacy.
Sylvia sat at the main seat. Celes stood beside her. The floor began to rumble slightly a sign the guests had been received by the guards.