Chapter 1099: Chapter 1097-What To Do With All This Land?(3)

The door didn’t knock. It just opened.

That alone was enough to make half the room go tense, hands drifting toward hidden weapons or gathering mana out of pure reflex. Brek was on her feet before the door finished swinging, her stance shifting from organiser to something closer to a guard dog ready to bite.

“This room is under private session. Whoever you are, you shouldn’t even know this door exists.”

The man who stepped through didn’t look bothered by that in the slightest. Tall, lean, dressed in robes that weren’t quite noble and weren’t quite common either, somewhere in that strange middle ground reserved for people who worked for someone important but weren’t important themselves. His skin had a faint greyish tint to it, and his eyes carried that vertical slit pupil that marked him as something other than fully human, though I couldn’t place the exact bloodline at a glance.

“My apologies for the interruption.”

He said, voice smooth in that practised way messengers and diplomats tend to have.

“I was told this meeting couldn’t wait, and given the nature of what I’m carrying, I believe that assessment was correct.”

Brek’s eyes narrowed.

“Told by who? Nobody outside this room should have known where or when this was happening.”

“That would be a fair question for whoever leaked it, and not particularly relevant to why I’m here.”

He offered a small bow, more formality than genuine respect.

“I represent a delegation currently housed just outside the war council’s outer wall. They asked me to deliver this message directly, in person, to the one called Rex.”

That got everyone’s attention shifting toward me. Even Collis straightened up from his usual slouched posture.

“And who exactly is this delegation?”

I asked.

The man’s slit eyes flicked toward me, and for the first time since entering, something like genuine caution crossed his face.

“Imperial Beasts.”

The words landed like a stone dropped into still water. For a solid three seconds, nobody in the room said anything, the kind of silence that comes right before everyone realises they heard something correctly and just don’t want to believe it yet.

Collis was the first to break it, letting out something between a laugh and a scoff.

“I’m sorry, did you say Imperial Beasts? As in, actual Imperial Beasts, not some lesser beasts claiming the title for prestige?”

“I understand the disbelief.”

The messenger said, unbothered by the tone.

“I had the same reaction when I was first tasked with this delivery. But yes, genuine Imperial Beasts, three of them currently, though I’m told more may follow depending on how this first meeting goes.”

Brek slowly sat back down, though her hand didn’t leave the hilt at her side.

“Imperial Beasts don’t send messengers to barely formed factions. They don’t send messengers to anyone, generally speaking. The last recorded instance of an Imperial Beast formally engaging with a faction through diplomatic channels was, what, twenty years back? And that ended in a war, not an alliance.”

“Times are changing, it would seem.”

The messenger replied.

“May I deliver the actual message, or would you prefer more speculation first?”

I waved a hand, gesturing for him to continue. I already knew what it all was since I set it up, but you gotta keep the shows for the ones watching.

The messenger reached into his robes and produced a sealed scroll, the wax stamp on it carrying an emblem, some kind of stylised claw wrapped around a budding branch. He didn’t hand it to me directly; instead, he placed it on the table and slid it forward, respecting whatever unspoken protocol existed for approaching a faction leader in his own meeting room.

Seris was the one who moved first, breaking the seal with practised care and unrolling the scroll before passing it toward me. I read through it once, then a second time, because the first read felt like it couldn’t possibly be saying what it was saying.

The letter, written in careful, measured script that somehow still carried weight despite being just ink on parchment, explained everything plainly. Three Imperial Beasts, drawn by the resonance of the land’s blessing from the Goddess of Life, had felt something during the manifestation that none of them had experienced in centuries. Two of them were fresh Imperials. The third was older, established, apparently acting as something between a guardian and a broker for the other two.

They weren’t asking for land ownership. They weren’t asking to be given anything outright. What they wanted was settlement rights on a portion of the blessed land, in exchange for pledged protection and loyalty to whoever controlled that land, for as long as they were allowed to remain.

I read that last part out loud, mostly because I needed to hear it again to actually believe it.

“In exchange for the right to settle and raise our young upon land blessed by the Goddess of Life, we offer our strength, our loyalty, and our protection to the one who holds dominion over it, for as long as that dominion remains just and the land remains ours to call home.”

The room exploded into noise almost instantly.

“That’s not possible.”

Someone near the back said, voice cracking slightly with disbelief.

“Unless the blessing itself is pulling harder on them than we realised.”

Carven said, thinking out loud more than addressing anyone directly.

“If the land’s resonance is strong enough to affect creatures at their level, strong enough to offer growth and safety for their young specifically, that might override whatever pride or tradition normally keeps them from this kind of arrangement.”

“Or it’s exactly what it looks like on paper and nothing more.”

Brek said, though even she didn’t sound fully convinced of her own scepticism.

“A genuine offer born from desperation to protect their young. Imperial Beasts aren’t immune to wanting safety for their offspring, same as anything else with blood in its veins.”

Collis leaned back in his chair, arms crossed, that familiar look of someone rolling an idea around in his head before committing to an opinion on it.

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves celebrating or panicking. This is either the single greatest gift that’s ever going to fall into our laps, or it’s the most elaborate trap anyone’s ever bothered dressing up as a gift.”

“Explain.”

I said, already halfway to the same thought myself but wanting to hear his reasoning laid out.

“Think about what happens the moment word spreads that Imperial Beasts have pledged loyalty to our faction. Every single house, every faction, every hidden power circling this land right now suddenly has a completely different calculation to make. Nobody in their right mind wants to pick a fight with a faction that has Imperial Beasts standing behind it, blessing or not, contract or not. That kind of reputation alone could buy us more safety than every trade agreement and mercenary contract combined.”

“And the trap side of that coin?”

“The trap side is obvious too. What if this isn’t genuine loyalty at all? What if this is a rival faction’s play, using Imperial Beasts, real or disguised, to embed themselves directly into our territory under the guise of protection. Once they’re settled, once they’re trusted, how hard would it be to turn that trust into leverage, or worse, into a blade pointed at our back from the inside?”

Daven, who had been quiet since the messenger walked in, finally spoke, his voice as flat and unaffected as always.

“There’s a third option nobody’s mentioned yet.”

“Which is?”

“That it’s exactly what it says on the parchment, no hidden angle, no trap, just genuine creatures wanting genuine safety for their young, and we’re the ones about to overthink ourselves into rejecting the best offer we’ll ever receive because we’ve spent too much time dealing with liars and schemers to recognise honesty when it’s staring us in the face.”

That comment landed heavier than expected, mostly because it was Daven saying it. The man who found suspicion in literally everything, suggesting, for once, that maybe not every offer needed to be dissected for hidden knives.

The messenger, who had remained standing patiently through the entire exchange, finally spoke again.

“If it helps ease any concerns, the delegation understands the weight of what they’re asking. They’ve requested nothing be decided today. They simply wished for their intent to be known, formally, through proper channels, rather than have it discovered through rumour or third-hand information that might distort the offer into something it isn’t.”

“How considerate of them.”

Collis muttered, though there was less bite in it than usual.

I looked back down at the scroll, pretending to read through it all when. I know it all; after all, I got to show the world a developing faction that is within an understanding.

“Seris.”

“Yes, lord?”

“Start drafting terms. Not final terms, not anything binding yet, just a framework we can work from once we actually sit down with this delegation properly.”

She nodded, already pulling a fresh sheet toward her, quill hovering over the parchment before she paused, looking up with an expression I didn’t often see on her, genuine uncertainty.

“Lord, I’ll be honest, I have no precedent for this. Every contract I’ve drafted has been between mortal factions, mortal houses, mortal terms. Nobody in recorded history has drafted formal settlement terms for Imperial Beasts pledging loyalty to a faction this young. I don’t even know what protections or obligations are considered standard in a situation like this, because there is no standard.”

“Then we build one.”

I said.

“Carven, work with her on the operational side- what settlement would actually look like, land allocation for their needs, boundaries, anything relevant to how they’d actually live there without conflicting with our existing plans. Brek, keep this contained. Nobody outside this room hears about this until we’ve confirmed exactly what we’re dealing with. The last thing we need is half the war council descending on us over a rumour before we’ve even met these beasts face to face.”

“Understood.”

The messenger, seeming satisfied that his task had been completed without immediate rejection, offered another small bow.

“The delegation will await word through the same channel this message arrived by. They’ve asked me to relay one final thing before I take my leave.”

“Go ahead.”

“They wished it known that they are, in their own words, tired of watching their young grow up in lands that offer neither safety nor growth, only survival. If this land, and the one who holds it, can offer even a fraction of the peace their offspring deserve, they intend to honour that gift with everything they are capable of giving in return.”

With that, he turned and left the room as quietly as he’d entered, the door clicking shut behind him with far less drama than his arrival.

For a long moment, nobody spoke. The weight of what had just happened settled over the room slowly, the kind of realisation that takes a few seconds to actually process even after all the words have already been said.

Krave, still seated beside me, hadn’t reacted much throughout the entire exchange, her expression carrying that same calm, warm quality it always did. But I noticed, just briefly, the faintest shift in her eyes when the messenger mentioned the young Imperial Beasts, something soft and unreadable passing through before disappearing just as quickly. She said nothing, offered nothing, just returned to watching the room with that same silent patience she’d carried since the meeting began.

Luna, curled against my shoulder, finally lifted her head, ears perked with obvious interest now that the boring political squabbling had turned into something genuinely fascinating.

“You played that card well.”

“Thanks.”

I looked around the room, at Brek already mentally organizing security protocols, at Carven sketching rough land divisions on a spare sheet, at Seris staring down at a blank contract template with the focused determination of someone about to write history whether she felt ready for it or not, at Collis still turning the idea over with that mixture of hope and suspicion he always seemed to carry, and at Daven watching all of it with quiet, unreadable calculation.

“I think,”

I said slowly.

“We’re going to find out exactly how careful we need to be before we do.”