Sanguine Paradise - Chapter 235
∼ Day 253 ∼
In a large hall, lit by torches and rustic chandeliers, we all sat by a massive table in the center. It was overflowing with food and merriment, my closest followers and family joining me for this feast with our guests. Ruela and Frenn were more than simply enjoying the festivities as loud laughter and conversations were thrown across the table, the subtle music in the background creating an atmosphere of joviality.
They were all savoring the festivities, as was I.
Frenn especially – as she had tracked down Bob, the big brute looking positively sheepish as he was flanked by both the wild orc chieftess and his ogre wife. From what I could see, they both had seemingly come to an agreement as they somehow simultaneously pampered and strong-armed the big guy. The ogre woman, who I now know as Una, was definitely the one with the pants on in Bob’s harem, a confident and fierce individual who carried about an unwavering motherly air.
And from initial impressions, it appeared that Frenn wanted to share that position and had already been let into the fold.
Despite Bob being much stronger than any of his women, he let them take complete charge – looking to actually enjoy the odd dynamic. I could only shake my head in amusement at my friend. He was happy, that was all that mattered, so I wasn’t going to say anything.
It had been a while since I’ve truly experienced anything like this. In my old life, there was only one memory that shared the same happiness. A singular point in my life where my family hadn’t been at odds with each other or been reduced to only my parents and sisters. It was nice to remember what exactly I was fighting for besides my desire for power alone. Why I was here in the first place and still drew breath.
From directly across the head of the table, where I sat with my wives, friends, and trusted subordinates, was the only dull point of the party. The warlord and her followers. They had barely touched the food, nor had they attempted to share in the conversation or fun. Mordrenn, composed and unflinching, was taking it all in with a calm gaze, whereas her followers looked about on the verge of popping a vein or two from anger.
Once the party finally died down, food eaten and the late of night drawing on, I called out all. “Thank you, everyone. For a good night well spent. But forgive me, for I now have matters to take care of. You can leave.”
Not hesitating at my words, all but those who had been told to stay, left the hall. Now the only ones left were Mia, Lily, Bob, Darkan, The Warlord, and her followers.
“I hope the festivities were to your satisfaction,”
“I did not come here for festivities,” Mordrenn responded calmly.
“Oh, I know,” I said simply, taking a swig of the goblet before me.
The orc who had spoken up from our first introductions looked furious at my blatant disregard, his anger barely tempered. Setting down the goblet, I sighed with a satisfied; ah∼.
“So, I trust you followed the instructions of my aide, Darkan? Who among these followers of yours did you trust to take with you on your little tour to visit the… sights of our humble settlement?”
“You’re questioning our loyalty to the Warlord?!” The orc erupted, finally incapable of keeping himself contained.
“Yes – yes I am,” I turned my gaze from the orc to the warlord, ignoring the inconsequential monster. “So, of whom did you choose to trust between your people, on the repercussions that divulging such information means life and death?”
Mordrenn turned to the orc practically frothing from the mouth in anger and laid a hand on his forearm, calming the raging beast before it did something stupid.
“Life and death?” She asked with a raised brow.
“For you, and your people,” Lily said suddenly from my side.
The orc jumped to his feet, rattling the table, spilling food and drink everywhere. “Human wench! How dare y-”
“Sit!” I shouted, sending the orc crashing to the ground as my aura bore down on his much weaker mental defenses, crushing his mind’s ability to control his body and making him do a life-like imitation of a puppet with its strings cut.
“Now… Mordrenn, I do have limits to my patience. And this follower of yours, if he can’t heed a simple command, I will have to take matters into my own hands to make our conversations go smoothly,”
“I understand,” She said, ever calm, though I suspected that she wasn’t truly so underneath it all.
Waving to some of the other stunned followers by the table, they left the hall with the paralyzed orc in tow. Now only two of her followers were left, the only other two second and third to the ill-tempered orc’s strength.
I also turned to the lithe woman at my side, giving her a knowing look. “Lily, please,”
“Well, of course – my beloved. My apologies∼” She giggled.
Going back to the matter at hand, I scratched my chin absentmindedly. “From what I’ve heard and seen, I honestly thought you’d have a better grip on those working for you. Was I wrong about my assessment of you?”
“Unfortunately, they’re more fanatical than subservient,” Mordrenn replied.
“I see… fanaticism is good, useful even. But oftentimes it is unpredictable and unreliable,” I took in a deep sigh. “Troublesome indeed,”
“So about that right-hand of yours, I believe he saw the same things as you did? Will he be a problem?”
“No, he won’t.”
“Good, then we can continue,” I said. “So, what do you think?”
“Adamantine mines and forges able to create weapons and armor out of it…” She said, eyes narrowed. “Why did you show them to us?”
“You have tens of millions at your every beck and call, hundreds more simply living under your reign. I can use that.”
“You wish to sell them?”
“No, I have something else in mind…” I said cryptically.
“Are you not afraid that word will get out?”
“Oh trust me, no one from my clan will leak this information. That I have made sure of.”
She clearly looked dubious at that, but her face straightened out as she realized the seriousness of my statement.
“Then what is it that you want to do with the adamantine?” She asked after a brief silence.
“That matters not now, you will find out soon enough.”
“I have not agreed to your proposal yet, what makes you so confident that I will?”
“Proposal?” I smirked.
Intertwining my finger, I steadied her with my gaze. “Alright, let me make this clear. You will conquer the remaining lands of the Tyrant’s territory as is your sacred right as the victorious warlord. But you will do so under my rule,”
Finally, her mask broke as a deep-set frown plastered itself across her face.
“I came here with peaceful intentions, I have done you no wrong. Besides, no greenskin will follow my rule if that was the case. Only a greenskin can rule the lowlands.”
“But frankly, that’s not quite true, is it now? After all, you’re not innocent to the harm done to my people,” Her calm finally cracked a bit as the corner of her lips twitched. “You accepted that sacred challenge, and therefore accepted the repercussions of what the war might bring. It so happens that it brought me ire, as well as your victory.”
She stood up with her two followers, glaring at me as they drew their weapons.
“Regardless, as I said before; the lowlands will never heed my rule if it’s under an outsider’s. And I will never bow to anyone but Wrathian,”
“Oh, I’m sorry. Was I giving you the impression you had a choice?” I raised my brows.
Suddenly, both of her followers fell to their knees with a yelp, their hamstrings severed. By my side, Mia was relaxed twirling her hand, almost invisible tendrils of crimson whipping about the hall, two pointed at her followers and three more pointed at the Warlord herself, ready to execute each of them at a moment’s notice.
“If you had already decided, then why tell me all this?” Mordrenn asked, with a clenched jaw.
“It’s simple, really.”
“I’m in need of a puppet, but not a mindless one.”