Chapter 126: 126 Negotiation

Chapter 126: Negotiations

Upon the desolate wilderness outside Ashen Village, two forces stood in tense confrontation.

Baron Leisen, bolstered by his own formidable prowess and daring, spurred his mount forward alone. "Rhone, if you possess the courage, come forward by yourself and speak with me."

"My Lord, you..."

Macken, Rydal, and the others betrayed looks of deep anxiety, fearing that their lord might walk into a trap.

"No matter."

After all, Rhone was now a pinnacle-tier Senior Mage and a mid-tier Senior Knight; though the Bronze rank was formidable, his opponent was not so overwhelmingly powerful as to subdue him in an instant.

Nevertheless, to guard against any contingency, Rhone murmured a low command, "Elrond, be ready."

"Your subordinate understands!" Elrond replied with solemn gravity.

Tugging at his reins, Rhone urged his Cloud-Treader forward with steady, measured strides. "Baron Leisen, by bringing your knightly squadron from the Thane Fief today, do you truly intend to wage war against me?"

Leisen’s eyes narrowed slightly. He had not anticipated that Rhone would genuinely dare to approach alone. This was entirely discordant with the useless heir of his memory. Could it be that his nature had truly transformed, just as Lady Dianne had claimed?

Yet this only brought him a momentary surprise, doing nothing to alter his underlying disdain—

for a lord to be blind to his own limitations and rashly step forward was the very definition of folly.

For a fleeting second, Leisen felt the urge to leap forward and snap Rhone's neck outright, but in the end, he reined himself in.

Wait a little longer.

"You jest, Baron Rhone. Though we are equals and I owe you no fealty, you remain, after all, the son of the Earl. I am not so foolish as to launch into open warfare over a trivial dispute."

"However, you have apprehended my subordinates without cause. You must give me an accounting for this matter!"

The Cloud-Treader came to a halt, the muzzles of the two steeds separated by less than two meters.

Rhone sized up his opponent's warhorse; even if it lacked the bloodline of a magical beast, it was undoubtedly a beast of superior quality.

Since the other man had not struck, he had clearly come to deliver threats and warnings.

So long as steel remained sheathed, Rhone felt no fear whatsoever.

"Leisen, your words are wide of the mark."

Rhone spoke with a mirthless smile, "You have erected a watchtower right in my backyard, yet you claim I seized your men without cause?"

"I will waste no more breath on idle chatter. Hand over a hundred gold coins, and I shall return everyone to you, Knight Fenris included."

"Bah!"

Leisen had never been a man of gentle temperament. Hearing this, his fury erupted, and his battle qi burst forth, whipping up a fierce gale that carried a chilling, murderous aura.

"Rhone, do you truly believe I dare not strike you down?"

He threatened, "With the meager force you command, I tell you plainly, I could wipe you all out with a single breath! Though it is inconvenient for me to kill you, I can drag you back to Wushan Castle and deliver you to the Marquis and the nobles for judgment, to see who holds the truth in this matter of your deliberate seizure of my men!"

"Now, I grant you a choice. Release my men immediately, and swear that from this day forth, your people shall never cross this mountain spur. Do this, and I may grudgingly overlook your insolence!"

Rhone sneered inwardly.

Had he still been a mere Junior Knight, such an intimidating aura might have left him tense and timorous; but now, in truth, it felt like nothing more than a passing warm breeze.

He glanced back at Rydal and Macken, signaling for them not to be anxious.

Then, turning back calmly, he looked straight into Leisen's eyes. "Leisen, I know your objective. It is nothing more than to constrict my territory. Yet this northern expanse is vast enough to accommodate both of our separate enterprises under normal terms."

"But if you truly believe me to be an easy target, the worst I can do is report this matter to Wushan Castle, and have my grandfather dispatch someone to demarcate a proper border for these villages born of barbarian tribes."

His tone took on a playful, mocking edge. "When that time comes, let alone expanding toward me, even if you venture east or south, the moment you step a hair over the line, I will report it to Wushan Castle. You will face heavy fines, and perhaps even lose the administrative rights to your Blackneck Tribe!"

Leisen's expression darkened. Whether he admitted it or not, Rhone's rationale was sound, and such a recourse would indeed be thoroughly disgusting.

At this moment, he found himself wishing that he were the sole noble in the north, for then he could have done entirely as he pleased.

This thought only deepened his animosity toward Rhone.

"Rhone, do not forget that by doing so, you will be unable to expand as well!"

Rhone spread his hands wide. "It matters little to me. Forest Town alone is quite enough for my growth, to say nothing of the Green Bamboo, Purple Fruit, and Ashen villages. I am well content."

"Heh!"

Leisen sneered through gritted teeth. "I truly failed to see it. It has been a mere few months, yet the erstwhile heir of Wushan Castle, once spat upon by all, has undergone such a monumental transformation!"

He demanded in a low, threatening hiss, "Forest Town has a paltry two or three thousand souls, yet your appetite, Rhone, is so voracious. Are you not afraid of choking to death?"

"That is no concern of yours."

Rhone stated his proposal directly. "Therefore, I propose that we establish the midpoint between Ashen Village and the Blackneck Tribe as our border, and pledge mutual non-aggression. What say you?"

Leisen did not reply at once.

The preceding conversation and Rhone’s defiance had thoroughly displeased him. He required an outlet, a display of might to intimidate this upstart and force him into submission.

"Disputes over territory are never settled merely by the tongue."

Leisen rested his hand upon the hilt of the longsword at his hip. "The ownership of land has always flown from the wellspring of raw strength."

"Come then, a duel!"

Drawing his longsword, he pointed it squarely at Rhone, his murderous intent deepening the winter chill. "Each side shall put forth three champions. Should you claim more victories, I shall pay you a hundred gold and withdraw fifteen miles. But if the victories are mine, you shall capitulate unconditionally, and neither you nor your people shall ever cross this line from this day forth!"

To put it simply, a best-of-three match where the loser would submit to the victor's terms.

"Then I am curious," Rhone inquired, "will you, a Bronze Knight, personally take the field?"

"Naturally!"

Leisen had never intended to stand idly by; on the contrary, he meant to unleash his pent-up fury upon Rhone.

The tip of his blade shifted, pointing toward Rydal within the ranks. "My opponent shall be him. Those who offend the Thane Fief must pay the price!"

Hearing these words clearly, Rydal could not help but rest his hand upon his sword-hilt, fully prepared to meet the challenge.

Rhone’s mind raced with frantic calculations.

He did not know where Rydal's absolute limit lay, but since Macken could hold his own in a forty-sixty split against a Bronze-tier opponent like Galier, Rydal ought to be somewhat stronger.

He was, after all, a knight blessed with the Blazing Sun aptitude; overcoming higher-ranking foes was entirely within the realm of possibility.

Yet he knew even less about Leisen's precise level of strength. Should Rydal suffer defeat, Rhone would have to guarantee victory in the subsequent two matches.

For the second bout, Macken would take the field. Whether facing Feridun or Joffrey, the chieftain of the Blackneck Tribe, Rhone possessed full confidence in Macken.

The crux of the matter lay in the third match. Who would fight then?

Looking across his entire retinue, the only remaining Senior-rank practitioners were Rhone himself and Elrond.

As for Elrond's offensive capabilities, even if he had mastered the Smite spell brought from Wushan Castle, his damage output remained severely limited.

Clearly, Rhone was the more suitable candidate.

Yet if Rhone were to fight, it would mean exposing his true strength.

And he was not yet willing to unveil his hand.

"What is the matter, Baron Rhone? Are you afraid?"

Seeing Rhone hesitate, Leisen assumed the youth had grown timorous, and a brilliant, mocking smile spread across his face.

It is not easy to recruit a high-ranking knight; if you fear he might be injured—or even killed by me—you need only release him peacefully and honor your promise.”

“Agreed!”

Roning narrowed his eyes. Since arriving here, he had never gambled like this—today, he would gamble that Riedal would win.

“But I add one condition: if you, a bronze-tier warrior, lose to my high-ranking knight Riedal, then no further duels shall be held—Sain Lordship shall surrender outright.”

“Ha! Hahaha!”

Resen laughed as if hearing the funniest joke. “What are you saying, child? Do you truly believe a high-ranking knight could defeat me?”

Roning did not smile. He replied seriously, “What if he did?”

The expression on his face caused Resen’s laughter to die. His features darkened—this was outright disdain, a subtle insult.

“Fine. I accept.”

(End of Chapter)