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Changling: The Child From The Woods.
Chapter 210: Negotiations Again

Chapter 210: Negotiations Again

The days had passed, and the negotiator was back.

“Before we begin, I never asked your name.”

“I am Aurel, negotiator for the southern borderlands of the eastern section of The Castion Empire.”

“Pleased to meet you, Aurel. But unless your terms involve the immediate granting of rights to slaves, with room for expansion within the year, I believe we have little to say and I can get you back home as soon as possible.”

“What if I did say that the terms did involve that.”

“Then I hope you have it in writing.”

“And I do.”

“I need some time with my advisors. Dawn, tell the maid outside to bring this man to the tea room.”

She disliked when he ordered her around, but they both knew that she couldn’t seem to be above him or it would undermine his position.

“It would be foolish to give an answer without doing so. And as a sign of good faith, we have sent wagons full of food for the people, they should arrive by the afternoon.”

As soon as the door was shut and the veils were back up, they read it one after the other, all in all, it took 40 minutes for all of them to have read it, and then another 10 to have them read it as a group to check for any glaring loopholes for either side.

“Now that I have us all together, I want to make it clear, you will not speak over me or second guess me publicly, but here in private, speak freely without fear of recourse. Convince me not to do this.”

“He is full of shit, call it a gut feeling, but if you sign with him, you are giving up your heart on a silver platter. You know what happened when Ragne got soulsmithing, it turned The Eternal War into a slaughter.

If you teach them how to do it, you’ll be dead inside of a year.”

“Mercedes, your opinion?”

“The Cast ended the war with Elfique by attacking a meeting where we would join them.

Their talk about others joining them freely is a half-truth, they’ve almost never done it without them backing a coup and offloading the violence to someone else. Worst of all, there have been cases of them backing a coup, and then ‘saving’ the people from the rebel forces.”

“I believe I’ve heard enough. Joan, I would still like your input.”

“If you intend to not entirely destroy The Empire, then you need to force them on the backfoot then demand a treaty. They will only respond to strength, they will not respect you.”

“Call him back in.”

It took a few minutes for the man to arrive.

“I must say King Fomoria, you have taught your people how to brew tea quite masterfully.”

“As much as I would love this deal, 10 years to spread the law from here into the rest of your empire, and the same timeframe to integrate myself into the empire. But from my present experiences with your people, and with you, I don’t believe that this deal is in good faith.”

“Then why don’t I show you good faith. We can still cede control of-”

“No, there will be no lands ceded, I will take them. This war will go on until the day that I feel a deal from you is not going to end with a knife in my back or a coup.”

“I see.”

The man’s sitting stance became casual suddenly.

“Sir Fomoria, I think that this is the best option as well. My superiors fail to see the opportunity that is here, if they decide to trick you and you die, we would lose out on your future potential. And I also believe that it is best that you remain sovereign. The Empire is old, and it is spread too thin, there is a limit to what any leader can control. Do you know that news of what has already happened here has yet to reach the capital? And it is expected to not reach it for another two weeks? 50 years ago I believe the war with the Goliaths would've already ended in this timeframe.”

“So, this you setting up a coup?”

“No, I want you to separate the wheat from the chaff, trim the fat, so on and so forth, so that The Empire can be stronger. And at the same time, you would have your own little kingdom where trade would start and we still get the magic that we want in the end, but just with a different timeframe and some restrictions so that we aren’t jumping into new things before we have time to understand them.”

Harlan reached into his desk and he could feel the man’s fear rise, but he kept a stone face.

“This is a communication amulet. Tell your superiors that I will continue fighting, but I am open to dialogue. Now, if you do decide to take that to a mage and they try to figure out how it works, it will break, and feel free to tell them that your death will also break it. Now I’ve given you something that can improve your standing and in return there will be times that I expect a heads up for issues that arise, and I will let you decide what issues I should be warned of at your own discretion.”

The man didn’t hesitate to grab the amulet, but Harlan could tell that if he was capable of sweating, he would.

“Thank you, King Fomoria.”

“Same location as last time for the gate?”

“Yes.”

As soon as the gate closed he spoke once more.

“Now that we are alone, you may question my choice.”

“It was all platitude, but what you gave him is a link that endebts him to you. Very cunning.”

“Thank you. Mercedes, I can see that you are upset.”

“You can’t really think about letting those monsters stay alive; I thought you wanted to burn them to the ground?”

“As a king, I have a duty to my people. If I need to ally with an enemy who I hate to make sure that my people live as good a life as I can give them, then I will do that. Just as I will turn my enemies into a mountain of bones by which I will use to make horrors unseen upon this world. I am not going to stop this war until I’ve stamped out slavery, so don’t worry, I remember what they did to you, to Joan, and what they will be doing to so many others.”

“I am sorry to have overstepped my bounds.”

“No, if I believe you are worth keeping for your advice, then you must be honest. I will not have you removed for disagreeing with me, but you should back it up with something more than insults next time.

Dawn, contact D’if, ask for a progress report.

“I did it already. He has heard of an island that suddenly appeared in the mists of the Sapphire Coast some 400 miles to the east, and yet nobody has been able to set foot on the island and massive pearlescent pink flower petals have been dropping from the sky out of nowhere.

“Good, I will use gate to bring the rest of his team to the location so they can focus their search more. Before I call an end to this meeting, is there anything else?”

“We have four days worth of food left at the current ration rate, should we go to half rations?”

“No, we have our food, I will be picking it up in a moment.”

“What?”

“I said we have the food. The attack was finished an hour ago, and the next attack will start in five minutes.”

“I’m sorry, you majest-”

“I am Harlan to you, and tonight, I would like to enter the bathhouse and I would like you to be there as well for public morale to see the king and the former princess together in a place of trust. However, before that, I would like to show you that I am not going to be soft.”

“Of course.”

Harlan stepped through the gate with Mercedes to a scene of carnage, the golems were walking around and picking off survivors. It was terrible work, and the rules of polite war said it wasn’t supposed to be done, but Harlan cared more about keeping the secrets of what happened here today.

The ground squelched under her feet and she saw that they were inside of a hole.

“What happened?”

“Warmagic, golems dug runes into the ground that pushed it down, and then I used gate to fill it with water. The Cast can’t drown, so my golems went down and handled them, they can be adapted to water, the Cast can’t. This is what a war is to me, a series of surgical strikes and playing defense. This is one of several military bases that are designed for rapid response, but they are designed for conventional warfare.”

One of the Cast tried to flee and Harlan used skip and a beam of flare, which is to say a pure advancement of the fire element, though it was not pure elemental fire; it still kept some of the water element which helped to contain the heat forward instead of causing thoughtless destruction.

Mercedes saw the man with a molten hole in his chest beg for his life before Harlan put another beam through his head.

She was not blind to violence, she had committed some of it herself, but Harlan looked like another one of the golems to her as he flew above the battlefield.

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He coldly moved, one to another, she just heard one scream after another and another and another.

He dug out the ones that were smart enough to hide under the ground, the golems would’ve missed them due to a lack of mental senses, and it made Harlan realize he should’ve considered this since the Cast don’t need to breathe.

Mercedes sat on the muddy ground with her knees to her chest.

“What do you want?”

“I just want you to know that I am here, if you want to talk.”

She scoffed.

“I will need get my people to do an inventory of all the new food from here and then from what we are going to get from the Castians”

“Of course. Just remember what I said.”

Harlan prepared himself for what was going to happen next.

When he dropped from the gate directly above the imperial base he was covered in void smoke so thick that he first appeared as an oval.

Then his wings unfurled before he touched the ground and black winds buffered the soldiers who were closest.

Harlan’s form was semi-bipedal like that of a werewolf; He remained hunched over, ready to pounce. As the smoke faded they could see his black scales which was really his armor that contrasted the bright white of claws, horns and his bladed whip-like tail.

His seven eyes glowed with different magical signs and colors, each moved independently as they searched for targets and understood what spells were being kept at the ready by the few mages.

“Come, let me display what I am.”

Three of them started.

Harlan knew enough about Castian Imperial tactics to know that these men were being sent to die, but he could not show mercy, he wished that he could..

They moved as a unit, mages from the outside fired spells that Harlan already had the counters ready for, causing them to explode inside enemy lines far before they reached him.

The man who attacked from behind was bisected with a whip crack.

Harlan outstretched his hands, a single finger extended on each, one up, one down; the soldier on the left was reduced to gore as 100 times gravity crushed his body, while the one of the right flew up into the air.

He continued to slowly walk into the crowd that was constantly moving forward to avoid getting in close range with him.

But one's wants and one's orders often conflicted.

Several Cast went forward with enchanted hook spears meant for hunting large magical beasts.

The moment he stepped forward, time understood who was predator and who was prey.

With a skip he moved past them and directly to the commander who barely turned his blade before Harlan left an ice nova behind and skipped again back to his original spot. The attack was not meant to kill the Cast, it was meant to kill the Plast and Caymen, the bulky lizardmen who Harlan had seen as soldiers before. They were only partly coldblooded, but they were weak to the cold and began to stagger.

With the commander dead from taking the blast so close and the chaos of the falling beastking they were routed.

Without weapons, he simply quartered the Cast by aiming his claws at the joints. He thought about it like breaking down a chicken, thighs, drumsticks, at the elbow, at the knee.

Now he began to simply rush the crowd, cutting down men without thoughts of anything but how to most efficiently protect himself and take his enemies apart without killing them.

The screaming was a psychological attack against them, and those that tried to help or put down the injured soldiers became new targets.

Harlan wanted to throw up, he hated every second of being on the offensive like this.

It was one thing to fight for his life, or to have tried to do the right thing and then was attacked as a result. But he came here, this was a surprise attack against them and the people were just too weak to even have a chance.

He let out dragon fire that stuck to the Cast caused their skin to turn molten and fall to the ground.

Harlan took to the sky and rained more fire down on the camps while he gave his throat time to heal.

Most of the base was temporary, just set up as an expansion to a smaller outpost in the area so they could respond to Harlan.

The tents lit up easily, their enchantments were meant for weather, not fire from above.

Harlan scanned every life that was down in the camp and he searched for the ones who were clearly not soldiers, cleaners, cooks… entertainment.

He swooped down and grabbed the men and women to take them out of the camp.

It was a small solace, but it quelled the nausea and quieted his mind.

Quiet, yes, he has had a lot of that recently. Harlan came to realize that even if he couldn’t speak to her exactly how much influence Dawn had on him.

She was less morally firm than him, she was quicker to violence, and their minds were so close to one another that she rubbed off on him in more than one way.

He hadn’t said anything to her, she was enjoying life so much, she drank and brought home a new man every night for the first week before she decided that she had dealt with all of her pent up feelings and should seek out something more long term.

But he felt more alone than ever, she was now there for him physically, and he knew that, but he refused to ask her to stay at home and just hold him.

He swooped down again to take out a runner.

“PLEASE, I HAVE A DAUGHTER!”

Harlan already knew about the Cast, they came out of a factory, some place that they call The Nursery. They didn’t give birth, they were all male. Yet for just a moment, he hesitated

His mind was too chaotic, he didn’t notice the others around.

Several hooked spears found their way into his sides but they couldn’t get past his ribcage that lacked gaps in it due to the extra ribs that were layered like laminar.

He took to the air again to give himself time to heal when he heard the roar of the cannons, the camp was set up to deal with Harlan’s from the outside and it had taken time to turn everything inward.

He barely dodged the balls of iron and explosive power, but his arm turned 180 degrees and the sky was covered in black smoke when he was forced to block one of them.

When he didn’t show up again after a few minutes, the men cheered.

The rain was picking up, and the fires were all out. The mages were all dead and so nobody realized what was happening as the temperature dropped and it began to hail and then snow.

It got colder and colder as Harlan flipped fire to water over the hour. As the rain and snow kept pouring down the concentration reached a tipping point where he didn’t need to change the mana anymore.

The Cast could feel the cold, but they couldn’t exactly get frostbite even as the temperature dropped below zero and the organic soldiers began to search for whatever fire they could make.

But the sudden blizzard that descended after a monsoon covered everything in a layer of ice.

And the temperature dropped and dropped and dropped.

Those that couldn’t survive such temperatures froze to death, but the cast were simply encased in ice, left behind as witnesses to the attack.

Harlan returned to the city with the rescued slaves and then sent them for processing while he spent half an hour fusing a few golems together, the amalgams could handle the cold that Harlan refused to enter for more than a few minutes at a time without fire imbibing.

As they brought back any supplies to a gate room Harlan had dug out below the city, Harlan got ready to go to the bath.

Food went to storerooms depending on condition, some things like leafy greens were ruined by the freezing, but other items were frozen to their benefit.

Bodies all went to a single room where mass graves were dug out.

Golems that Harlan called Mourners were tasked with stripping them of all valuables and sorting them by race. Their ID tags were the only things that Harlan did not reuse either as raw materials or functional equipment that could be easily given out. When he showed it to Joan she thought he was insane until he explained his reason. He wanted to remember that these were not soldiers, they were not just numbers on a board that he kept, they were lives whose chance to be forgiven was taken away.

If he intended to be a martyr, then she would let him, because the other option was that he stopped killing, and that was something she could not allow.

Before he went to the bathhouse he wanted to wash the blood off and drink a few tonics.

30 minutes had passed when Dawn went inside the bath to check on him and find him sleeping.

“Hey, wake up.”

Harlan jumped awake and slipped on the cleaning slime, falling back into the bath and splashing water all over his mother.

“Sorry, did you need something?”

“You don’t sleep that much, are you alright?”

“Cannonball, couldn’t dodge them all, blocked one with my hand, organs took a beating. I was just sleeping as I healed myself.”

She lifted her dress and dipped her feet in the water.

“I was inside of your head, and even when we didn’t talk, I was there for you and I know that.

You haven’t been talking to me, and I know that not talking to me is the worst thing you can do.”

“I know you are happy to be away from me, doing your own thing.”

“You’re scared that I’m going to leave you like she did, because I already told you how she threw herself into training after she threw herself into drugs and sex to dull the pain. I’m not her, I had to work past the feelings that I was getting from having hormones again after a decade and a half, but that was all it was.”

“I hesitated today, one of the Cast begged for mercy and said he had a daughter, and I froze. It was a trap, they must’ve realized that I’m soft.”

“No, you are just human. When you are cutting down people who are weaker, you let your guard down and you give yourself time to do the one thing a soldier can never do in a fight. Instead of just thinking, you felt.

Do you want me to cancel your trip to the bathhouse?”

“No, I think seeing what I am fighting for will be good for me.”

Harlan got out and pulled his clothes out of a cleaning slime, he still had his old shifting suit that was made from cloth that was interlaced with metal instead of just being full chainmail like the new suits were, so it did need to be cleaned more thoroughly.

Then he made his way to the bathhouse.

The people were ecstatic that their king would come to be with the people, even the beastkin who were culturally not used to the idea decided to step into the bathhouse so they could see him and ask things of him.

They were even happier when he announced his victories earlier in the day and that there would be a feast tomorrow evening to celebrate the food that they now had.

It was what he needed, something as stupid and mundane as being approached by a dozen women all wanting to be queen and needing to turn them all down.

Even if he had to say no to all of them, it was nice to remind himself that in the time he had been here, some of these people went from glassy eyed and dead to the world to able to at wash themselves, though they were in a separate section of the bath that had been requested for privacy.

An old Plast whose scales were flaking came up to him.

“Your majesty.”

“Hello, citizen.”

“I heard that a group of men were reverted to youth.”

“And I assume that you want the same for yourself?”

“I was an expert blacksmith in my youth, I swear, I would be useful to you.”

Harlan thought for a moment.

“Come to me in the morning, I will make time, but I do warn you, the process is painful, potentially fatal, and would only extend your life in the sense that you are unlikely to die of illness related to old age.”

“Of course, of course. Thank you so much for this.”

This started a flood of people who wished to gain back their youth, so Harlan made it very clear that not everyone would qualify. He refused those who were simply in middle age, he refused those who had no useful skills. He knew from the start that if D’if got out that others would see him; he made no requests of D’if to remain secretive about what had happened. So he knew that the moment someone else asked, he had to make it clear that he was not a fountain of youth, it was a gift that demanded others give their lives to him when they got back their bodies.

By morning he would have a form which could be filled out by anyone and then processed by his people.

As he had no need for soldiers and the town guards were supplemented by golems, most of the people who worked for him were pencil pushers who Mercedes hired.