Re: Tales of the Rune-Tech Sage

CH313 Alex, the Fury Diplomat

***

Earl Kellerman stared at Alex for a long, heavy moment—then shifted his gaze to Grand Mage Taman. Eventually, he exhaled and withdrew his Saintly aura.

"I apologise. I lost control of myself for a moment," the Earl said, bowing his head ever so slightly.

"Humph!" Grand Mage Taman snorted coldly before turning to Alex. "Young Master Alex, as the offended party, you may decide whether the Earl should be punished for his misconduct."

Alex, who hadn't moved a muscle since the beginning, waved his hand dismissively.

"No matter," he said with a faint smile. "I can understand the Earl's position."

Then his tone subtly shifted—still calm, but colder.

"However, that said, I should still address your earlier outburst."

He tilted his head slightly. "You asked if I was mad?"

The soft smile he always wore slowly turned unsettling. His eyes deepened in darker shade of crimson, gleaming faintly even under the hall's lighting.

Calm Madness!

"What do you think?"

A visible shiver ran down Earl Kellerman's spine.

That face… that look… those eyes… They were the same as his. The man he loathed. The man he feared—Earl Drake Fury.

Alex continued, his voice steady yet sharp enough to cut through steel.

"You asked if I was threatening you…"

He leaned forward ever so slightly, locking eyes with the Earl. His expression was eerily composed, but behind that calm gleamed a predatory hunger—quiet, deadly, and unblinking.

"I am Fury," he said slowly, every word deliberate. "We do not threaten. We don't warn. We make promises."

He paused—long enough for silence to grow heavy.

"And we always keep… our promises."

There was no magic in his voice, no concepts or compulsion—just words. Yet, the calmness in his tone made the blood run cold in everyone's veins.

For those familiar with Earl Drake Fury, the resemblance was too close—too terrifying.

For a fleeting moment, they swore it was the Mad Earl himself speaking through the boy.

But Alex wasn't finished.

"While we're on the topic of etiquette…" Alex began again, his tone cooling into something almost diplomatic. "My father is a Legend—and the Guardian of the North. His responsibilities to the Empire stretch far beyond that of a mere Earl. It is both impossible and, frankly, ludicrous to expect him to abandon his duties just because you decided to attend these talks in person."

Though polite in delivery, the message was clear enough for everyone present to understand:

'Who the FxCK do you think you are?'*

Earl Kellerman's expression darkened into a storm of icy rage. If looks could kill, Alex would have been torn to shreds. Yet, to his credit, the man managed to restrain himself—barely.

Alex pretended not to notice. Folding his right leg over his left, he maintained his composed demeanour and continued evenly,

"Besides, I believe there's something you're misunderstanding, Earl Kellerman. The forces your men attacked weren't my father's soldiers."

He leaned back, smiling faintly.

"They were mine."

The words dropped like thunder.

Both the Kellerman delegation and the mediators blinked in disbelief.

Grand Mage Taman adjusted his spectacles, studying Alex with renewed curiosity.

"Can you expatiate on that, Young Master Alex?" he asked.

Alex nodded. "I was originally tasked with leading the task force to clear the Kellerman fief of its Wildkin problem—an assignment entrusted to my family by the Imperial Sun. But when we confirmed a sub-Legendary power was involved, I stepped back. My father, Earl Drake, took direct command while I retreated to the Northern Dankrot Fort to coordinate the supply lines."

He met the Earl's eyes. "At the time your forces attacked, that fort was flying my flag. In short: you attacked my command, not my father's."

"There is a rule—no, an ironclad law in my family: 'You keep what you kill'." Alex's tone was light, yet sharp. "Because I controlled the fort during your House forces' invasion, and because the invasion was driven back under my command, whatever follows belongs to me—including the honour of victory... and this negotiation."

He let the statement hang for a heartbeat. "My father's letter—the one you just crushed—was meant to save your face. Since you've rejected it, let us deal with facts."

Alex leaned forward, both forearms on the table, speaking like a man offering practical counsel.

"You have two options. First: you walk out and the negotiation collapses. If that happens, word will reach my family that during what was supposed to be a mediated discussion, you tore up the letter, inadvertently insulting our family patriarch. That gives House Fury every legitimate reason to invade your lands."

"You would get what you sought—my father and our Counts at your gates—but they would come with their personal legions and the full force of our house."

Grand Mage Taman interrupted, voice clipped. "Young Master Alex, please avoid statements that—" He stopped, reconsidered, and softened the rebuke. "—that could be construed as threats. And since you are the affected party, refrain from invoking external parties; doing so will influence and impede these talks."

"Understood, High Arbiter." Alex inclined his head, then turned his attention back to Earl Kellerman, who now wore a complicated mask of rage and unease.

"Allow me to restate my words." Alex said, " If you leave and these talks break down, then note this—not as a threat, but as a promise. I will inform my family that your house is hostile and should be treated as an enemy."

"Then," Alex continued evenly, "I will make a public statement that the Kellerman forces—led by your heir, Josiah Kellerman—invaded our lands after my family answered your plea to the Empire for military aid against a Wildkin incursion.

"That, after being defeated, and after we adhered to noble etiquette—capturing your heir without retaliating by invading your fief—you refused to negotiate or reach a fair settlement for the assault. I will also reveal that you hired a Legendary-ranked Assassin to kill me during the war, a blatant violation of the Rules of War."

He gave a small shrug, voice still calm and conversational. "All of which my family and I, in good faith, have kept from the public.

"And it just so happens," Alex added, leaning back slightly, "that in the coming days, every major power will gather in the Enclave for the auction. A rather perfect stage to make such revelations—don't you agree?"

Earl Kellerman's composure finally cracked.

"Oh, and by the way," Alex said offhandedly, as if recalling an afterthought. "I'll also personally decapitate your son and send his head back to you—for causing the deaths of my men."

"You wouldn't da—!"

The Earl stopped himself mid-outburst as Alex's staring crimson eyes and the memory of his earlier words returned to him.

'I am Fury.'

Three simple words—but they carried the weight of generations. And when paired with the lucid, unnerving calm in Alex's eyes—the mark of the Furor Bloodline's Calm Madness—the threat... no, promise became all too real.

Alex saw the flicker of fear in the man's face. He had achieved his goal. Taking Esmond's earlier advice, he eased the pressure in his tone.

"However," he said smoothly, "we can avoid all of this. Option two—you remain seated, and we continue this discussion. We reach an agreement, and everyone goes home happy—or at least, as happy as they can be."

He adjusted his posture, leaning back into a neutral position before continuing.

"Between losing a little face by negotiating with the heir of a Guardian family 'who's still wet behind the ears', and having your family's honour dragged through the mud before being crushed beneath an overwhelming military force…" Alex let his gaze sweep across the room. "I think everyone here knows what the sensible decision is."

He gave the Earl a faint, encouraging nod.

Then, gesturing toward the empty chair, Alex said softly, "So, Earl… if you please."

Earl Kellerman's breathing quickened.

The message was clear enough: 'Get your damned ass back in that seat'.

Only Alex had said it with the polish of diplomacy.

All eyes turned toward the Earl, the room holding its collective breath.

After a long, tense silence, Earl Kellerman did the unexpected.

He swallowed his pride—

and sat back down.

***