My Seven Wives Are Beautiful Saintesses

Vahn watched him quietly with a unreadable expression.

"Speak," Vahn said. "And choose your words well."

Jargo's throat tightened. This was the man who had brought humans, barbarians, ghosts and frost giants under his rule. Even kneeling in front of him made the barbarian chief's skin crawl in primal instinct.

But he pressed his forehead to the floor.

"In the name of my ancestors, I did not come here as an enemy."

Several commanders whispered in disbelief.

Ezekiel narrowed his eyes. "Then why did you come at all, after capturing our envoys?"

Jargo exhaled sharply as he answered,

"I did not capture your envoys. The Great Barbarian Union did."

Vahn's fingers stopped tapping.

Jargo continued, raising his head.

"I… was kicked out."

The words hit the hall like a hammer.

Seraphina frowned deeply. Lilith raised an eyebrow.

Even Golka and Ascalon glanced at each other.

Jargo clenched his fists.

"When the other chiefs of the council decided to go against your Dynasty, I alone opposed them. I saw what the others refused to see."

His eyes locked onto Vahn with a mixture of awe and fear.

"You are not someone the Barbarian Union can defeat. Nor negotiate with as equals. You are someone the land itself bends for. Someone whose rise cannot be stopped."

The hall went silent again.

Vahn tilted his head, curious. "You came here just to praisime my strength? That alone does not earn trust."

"No," Jargo agreed firmly. "It does not, your majesty. That is why I come not to bargain… but to submit."

He slammed both fists into the floor.

"I, Jargo Ironhoof, former Great Chief of the Northern Stampede Tribe, offer myself to you. Body, soul, tribe, bloodline. Everything."

Gasps broke out.

Eterna, standing beside Seraphina, blinked in confusion. "Mama, he's… very big…"

Lilith smirked faintly. "And very desperate."

Seraphina whispered, "Barbarians do not kneel easily. This is no small gesture."

Jargo continued, voice hoarse with shame and resolve.

"My people lack spiritual power. Our children die young, our warriors grow old without breakthroughs. I have watched your capital… watched how your kingless valley became a shining city in mere months."

He swallowed hard.

"I want that future for my tribe."

His voice softened in a rare moment of vulnerability.

"I want a land where our children don't starve. Where our warriors don't die blind to cultivation. Where we are not used as cannon fodder by the Union."

He bowed again until his head touched the ground.

"I want to overthrow the Barbarian Union and bring my tribe—no, my lineage—under your rule."

A tense silence ensued..

Then, footsteps.

Longus, the current Barbarian Chief under the Necrotic Dynasty, stepped forward.

Longus was just as massive, just as wild-looking, but with a calmer aura shaped by his loyalty to Vahn.

He bowed to Vahn, then faced the hall.

"I vouch for him everyone, " Longus declared. "Jargo Ironhoof is not a traitor by nature. Only a leader who sees beyond pride."

Jargo's eyes widened at the unexpected support.

Longus nodded at him. "We fought together before. He is not the type to bow unless the cause is righteous."

The hall murmured.

Golka whispered, "If Longus trusts him, then the man might be worth something."

Ascalon gave a grudging nod. "At the very least… he is sincere."

All eyes turned toward Vahn.

He descended from the throne, walking slowly until he stood directly in front of the kneeling chief.

Jargo dared not meet his eyes.

Vahn's replied in a voice that was quiet, yet resounded like a decree:

"Raise your head, Jargo."

Jargo did as he told.

In Vahn's gaze, he saw vastness. A promise… and a warning.

"You wish to follow me?" Vahn asked. "Then you should know something."

The void flickered faintly in his pupils.

"Those who follow me rise higher than mountains."

"And those who betray me, vanish deeper than the abyss."

Jargo gulped a mouthful of saliva. "I understand, your majesty."

Vahn extended his hand.

"Then rise, Jargo Ironhoof," Vahn declared.

"From today onward, you are not a outcast."

The hall erupted in whispers.

Jargo stared in disbelief as Vahn continued.

"You are now a member of the Necrotic Dynasty. You will have my protection and my trust. So long as you earn both."

Jargo's entire frame shook.

He placed his hand over his heart, tears gathering at the edges of his eyes.

"I swear your majesty. I will serve you until the day my bones return to dust."

Vahn nodded once.

"Good. Then let us begin preparing—

—for the fall of the Great Barbarian Union."

Longus grinned savagely.

Ezekiel smirked.

Lilith smiled with dark amusement.

Seraphina sighed, knowing the war drums were already echoing.

Jargo bowed deeply, his loyalty sealed.

The atmosphere in the throne room shifted after Jargo's declaration.

Where tension had lingered, now purpose took root.

Where suspicion remained, now strategy began to form like storm clouds.

Vahn returned to his throne, but his posture was no longer relaxed. His eyes simmered with quiet calculation.

"Longus. Selena. Jargo," Vahn said, addressing the three men who would shape the coming storm.

"Step forward."

They did. Three giants of differing origins, all kneeling before the newly formed dynasty.

Vahn raised a hand.

"Before we fight, we must prepare internally. Our Dynasty may be young… but youth is a strength. Our growth is unshackled by tradition."

Jargo bowed his head. "Just give us your ommand, Your Majesty."

Longus thumped his chest. "My warriors await your word, my king."

Selena stepped forward confidently. "Our mines, supply chains, and weapons are ready."

"Then listen carefully."

Vahn rose from his throne and approached a large tactical map spread across a stone table.

Frost Giant territories to the north, Necrotic Capital at the center, Barbarian Union in the far west.

He dragged his finger across the map.

"Jargo. Tell me exactly how the Great Barbarian Union functions."

The former chief bowed again.

"The Union is strong, but riddled with flaws."

"Flaws?" Lilith whispered with interest.

Jargo nodded.

"The Union is not united. The chiefs are constantly fighting for territory and resources. Only when outside threats arise do they pretend to be one people."

Seraphina narrowed her eyes. "Typical barbarian politics."

"It gets worse," Jargo continued grimly.

"Their new High Chief is unstable. He is obsessed with conquering regions with strong spiritual energy."