Re: Tales of the Rune-Tech Sage

CH312 Alex, the Fury Negotiator

***

The Kellermans wasted no time—

Or rather, they had no time to waste.

Both parties of the reparation talks entered a private chamber within the DragonHold Enclave the very next morning.

Earl Jorg Kellerman strode at the front of his delegation, his steps firm and deliberate, making it clear who led his side. His eyes swept across the Fury group opposite them—who were gathered in quiet formation without an obvious leader—yet the man he expected to see was nowhere to be found.

Already waiting in the room was an elderly man, perhaps in his sixties, though his voice carried the vigour of one still in his prime.

"Welcome, gentlemen. My name is Taman Lancaster," the old man introduced himself. "By request of both families, I have been sanctioned by the Empire to mediate these talks in the capacity of High Arbiter."

His tone was calm, steady, and commanding—so much so that it diffused some of the tension that had already begun to thicken in the room. Especially from Earl Jorg Kellerman, whose expression darkened upon realising Earl Drake Fury was absent.

Were this meeting anywhere but a stronghold like the DragonHold Enclave, and were the mediator anyone lesser than a Grand Magus like Taman Lancaster, the Earl would likely have flipped the table already.

Prestige, reputation, and—most importantly—strength.

Grand Magus Taman possessed all three. His very presence ensured that the talks would remain civil, especially here, in the colossal fortress of arcane might that was the DragonHold Enclave's main tower.

The Grand Magus took his seat at the midpoint of the long obsidian table and gestured toward both ends.

"The representatives of each family will take these seats," he instructed. "The rest of your delegations may sit behind your representative. Only the representatives are permitted to speak."

He paused, his gaze sweeping across both sides, the air thick with his quiet authority.

"Maintain decorum. Anyone who disrupts these proceedings will be escorted out—and their family fined heavily by the Imperial treasury. You have been warned."

With that, he folded his hands and waited for the representatives to sit.

Earl Jorg Kellerman moved first, taking the seat to Taman's right with barely restrained irritation. His delegation filled the row of seats behind him in practiced order.

Across the table, the Fury delegation moved to the Grand Magus's left. Murmurs passed quietly between the Kellermans as tension began to mount.

Who would represent the Fury side in the absence of the Mad Earl?

Esmond Fury and his team of scribes settled into their places behind the representative's chair. Then, to the surprise of the Kellermans, Alex stepped forward and took the seat himself.

"What is the meaning of this?" Earl Kellerman roared, slamming his palm on the table. "Since when did these negotiations become a stage for a child still wet behind the ears?!"

His face turned red as his voice echoed across the chamber.

"Are you mocking me? Are you mocking the Empire itself?!" he accused, his words thick with indignation.

Alex said nothing. He merely met the man's furious gaze with a calm, unreadable stare.

Then again… even if he had wanted to respond, he wouldn't have gotten the chance.

Bang!

Grand Mage Taman struck his gavel against the table, the sharp sound cutting through the heated atmosphere.

"Earl Kellerman, please take your seat," he said evenly. "Who the Fury family sends as their representative is their prerogative. It has no bearing on you, and certainly not on the Empire."

Earl Jorg glared but reluctantly returned to his seat.

Turning to Alex, Grand Mage Taman continued, "That said, since this negotiation is being observed closely by the Imperial Sun himself, I trust there is a valid reason for sending someone so… inexperienced to such an important matter."

Alex gave a short nod.

"Very well," the Grand Mage said after a brief pause. "Let us begin. Please introduce yourselves for the record."

Three groups of scribes from Empire, Kellerman, and Fury—sat ready to record every word.

"I am Earl Jorg Kellerman, head of the Kellerman fiefdom to the northwest of the Empire," the older man declared first.

"I am Alex Fury, heir to Earl Drake Fury," Alex followed calmly. "I am here on my father's behalf for this negotiation."

Grand Mage Taman's eyes narrowed slightly. "Young Master Alex, are you and your father aware that whatever agreements are reached in this chamber are binding—and that your performance reflects directly on your family's standing? The Fury household may not later claim misrepresentation."

"We are aware," Alex replied. "This was my father's decision."

He reached back to Esmond, who handed him a sealed letter. Alex then passed it to the Grand Mage.

"Let the record show that Young Master Alex Fury has submitted a letter of attorney from Earl Drake Fury, authorising him to act on his behalf in these negotiations," the Grand Mage announced after reading it.

He then passed the document to Earl Kellerman for verification.

Rage immediately flooded the middle-aged man's face as his eyes darted across the contents.

Even without having seen the letter, Alex could imagine his father's words and tone.

'I am too busy to attend this trivial matter. The boy is sufficient to represent me.'

'Actually,' Alex mused inwardly, suppressing the twitch of a smile, 'Father probably wouldn't even bother to be that polite.'

Earl Kellerman crushed the letter into a ball and hurled it to the floor before shooting to his feet.

"I will not stand for this insult!" he roared. "Regardless of this war, our houses are equal in standing. I made it clear that I would attend these talks personally. If he could not come himself, the least he could have done was send a proper representative—a subordinate Count maybe, but not a brat!"

He turned sharply to his entourage. "You know what? We're pulling out of these talks. Let the nobility decide whether this mockery of etiquette is acceptable behaviour for a so-called Earl. Mad or not!"

Grand Mage Taman was about to speak when Alex calmly raised a hand to stop him.

"Before you walk through that door, you should know something, Earl Kellerman…" Alex's voice rang out just as the Earl reached for the handle. "If you leave this negotiation room after crumpling our family head's letter, we will consider the talks broken down—and the ceasefire imposed by the Rules of War void.

"For desecrating our family head's honour just now, we will resume hostilities. However, this time, it won't be just one branch of our family—it will be the entire Fury House.

"You'll get your wish, Earl Kellerman. You will not only get to see my Family's Counts, and maybe even my father himself, you will also receive the Fury Army legions themselves.

"And when that happens, your son will no longer be treated as a peerage prisoner of war. He will be regarded as nothing more than an enemy combatant… and dispatched as such."

Earl Kellerman froze mid-step. Slowly, he turned around, his face twisting with rage.

"Are you mad, boy? You dare threaten me?!"

A violent pressure burst forth as his Saintly aura flared to life.

Grand Mage Taman instantly raised his own power to block the pressure, his magic spreading like a protective barrier that shielded both his mediation team and the Fury delegation.

Alex, however, remained seated—calm, cold, and unmoved. The turbulent wind from the clash of powers swept through his hair and clothes, yet he didn't even flinch.

He realised in that moment that so long as no direct attack was involved, his body could withstand the pressure. After all, Jared's Saintly aura had been far heavier than this. That sadist of a drill instructor had often made him train under that suffocating, heavy gravity-like pressure of his Saintly Aura.

Compared to that, Earl Kellerman's aura was little more than a strong breeze.

"What are you doing, Earl Kellerman?!" Grand Mage Taman's voice boomed. "Are you showing contempt for an Imperial High Arbiter? Withdraw your Saintly aura at once!"

Alex's Spirit Sight flared instinctively—and what he saw nearly made him whistle.

The old man had already conjured a delayed Grade 8 spell in his hand. If Earl Kellerman didn't pull back his aura immediately, the spell would be unleashed.

Moreover, judging by the massive flow of ambient mana rushing toward him, Alex could tell the Grand Mage had several more spells prepared in sequence—ready to fire in rapid succession.

The precision, the efficiency, the utter control... it was art in motion.

'Now this is a Mage!' Alex thought inwardly, his lips curling ever so slightly.

***