"Come back!" the Chieftain roared from within his tent. His voice echoed across the vast land like the roar of a true lion, commanding, powerful, and bone-deep intimidating. The sound alone brought his warriors to a halt, heads bowing instinctively in submission.
One by one, they retreated from the chase and returned to camp, their fierce energy subdued.
But the Chieftain, still seated on his long, cushioned chair, didn’t look angry. Instead, he rested one arm lazily on the armrest, a sly smirk curling his lips. His eyes gleamed with a knowing light, sharp and calculating.
He was satisfied.
Things were unfolding just as he wanted. With this display, he now held the upper hand in the negotiation.
He knew the werewolves well, honorable on the surface, but sly as foxes when it came to political maneuvering. If he had let those two old men continue the talks, they’d have whittled down his demands bit by bit until he walked away with scraps.
No, forcing the Royal Princess into the negotiation was a far better move. Now, the game was his to control.
More than that, while he knew the two old men believed he was targeting their princess because he saw her as a soft persimmon, someone easy to push around, the truth was far from it. In reality, he was genuinely curious about her.
He had heard stories, rumors passed along by a traveling merchant friend of his. That same friend, in fact, was the one who’d spread the gossip about him acquiring a biochemical agent. To him, that item had always seemed useless, just another piece of clutter in his already overflowing collection. But who would have thought it would actually come in handy now?
After the Royal Advisor and Elric stepped through the portal, they found themselves back in the palace gardens, only to be met with a tense atmosphere. Something was clearly going on, but they didn’t have the luxury of dwelling on it. They were in a tight spot.
Initially, they had hoped to negotiate better terms with the Tigren Chieftain. It wasn’t about taking advantage of the Tigren due to their lack of trading experience compared to the werewolves. It was simply that the West had been ravaged by the locust swarm, they had already lost a significant portion of their crops, and with a larger population than the Tigren, they had far more mouths to feed. Resources were stretched thin.
But when the Chieftain outright refused to compromise unless Princess Addison herself led the negotiations, the garden fell into heavy silence. Everyone’s expressions darkened.
Zion, Maxwell, and Levi, having attended the earlier conference, had a sense of what had transpired. Without missing a beat, Zion stepped forward and said firmly, "I’ll go with her. I’ll protect her."
"I’m coming too," Maxwell said, his voice low, a deep frown etched into his brow. There was no way he was letting his mate walk into the Tigren camp alone, especially knowing that her wolf was still sealed. Addison could fight, yes, but against a Tigren? It would be like a chick going up against an eagle; she’d be overpowered in seconds. And worse, she could be taken hostage.
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