Re: Tales of the Rune-Tech Sage Chapter 661: Afternoon Parley II

CH661 Afternoon Parley II

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"Brock Peyton has proven himself to be a dangerously greedy man. Greed, by itself, is not inherently a significant flaw—especially within a setting like BloodIron. However, greed untempered by an understanding of one’s own limitations and capabilities? That is a recipe for disaster."

Alex’s voice remained composed, yet each word carried undeniable weight.

"Your continued alliance with him will not only lead to an increase in rivals. Eventually, it will forge an enemy so formidable that even you will find it impossible to offend."

Lady Wintermere observed him for a moment.

"Are you, perhaps, referring to yourself?" she inquired.

"You could view it that way," Alex responded with a nod.

Strangely, she did not react with laughter.

Instead, her expression grew more intense, tinged with skepticism.

"Then let us dispense with the indirect talk, Young Master Fury. Who precisely are you to make such a bold assertion?" she questioned.

"It is less about my identity," Alex replied, "and more about my capabilities—and the affiliations I hold. These are the true potential threats you face at this juncture."

"And what are these capabilities you possess? Pray tell, who are these allies you believe could pose a threat to both myself and the Drumvale Merchant Company?" Lady Wintermere probed.

She snapped her fingers once.

The butler materialized almost instantly, entering the room and exuding an oppressive aura that bore down heavily on Alex.

Alex cast a glance at the middle-aged man with utter nonchalance.

"As anticipated... a Saint-level retainer," he remarked with a slight smile, his tone bordering on dismissive.

When contrasted with the saintly pressure Alex had endured during his training under Jared, the butler’s aura felt akin to a gentle breeze.

The man’s pressure lacked any discernible killing intent. How could it possibly unsettle someone who had once stood firm beneath the killing intent emanating from a Legend?

Both Lady Wintermere and her butler were genuinely taken aback by Alex’s complete lack of reaction. It wasn’t merely that he maintained his composure; he seemed entirely devoid of even the slightest tremor of fear.

Naturally, Alex wasn't simply feigning confidence.

Apart from his ability to withstand the butler’s pressure, he also possessed a hidden advantage—one that ensured his protection even if the man decided to act.

"Is it not somewhat embarrassing to utilize your sainthood to intimidate a mere Gold Rank?"

A somewhat somber voice suddenly resonated through the chamber.

Instantly, the room's atmosphere shifted, as if it had been inundated with despair, melancholy, and crushing sorrow.

‘Saint Domain!’

The butler’s eyes narrowed sharply.

He promptly unleashed his own Saint Domain, countering the oppressive field projected by the newcomer.

At some point, unobserved, another individual had entered the room and now stood behind Alex.

"Guild Master BattleBane—what is the meaning of this intrusion?" the butler inquired coldly.

"I should be posing that same question to you," the BattleBane Guild Master retorted. "What is the justification for attempting to pressure an ally of the BattleBane Guild during a legitimate business negotiation? Is this the standard practice of the Drumvale Merchant Company?"

"And by what authority do you presume to lecture a regional director of the Drumvale Merchant Company?" the butler shot back.

"That is sufficient."

A calm voice sliced through the palpable tension like a sharp blade.

Both the BattleBane Guild Master and the butler turned their gazes toward Alex.

The young man met their eyes steadily.

"I said, that is enough," he repeated, his tone unwavering yet firm.

Without hesitation, the BattleBane Guild Master immediately retracted his pressure.

The butler appeared visibly surprised—and understandably perplexed—by the Guild Master's prompt obedience to Alex. Nevertheless, after a brief pause, he too withdrew his pressure.

Suddenly, raised voices could be heard from beyond the room’s confines.

"You are not permitted to enter!"

The door was forcefully opened.

"Oh? It appears I’ve missed the more intriguing developments."

The new arrival entered the room uninvited, moving with an air of supreme entitlement.

"My apologies, my lady. We were unable to prevent his entry without resorting to force," the guard trailing behind him stated hastily.

Lady Wintermere’s expression darkened slightly.

"What is the meaning of this, Raven Horn? Why is the Black Scar Syndicate forcefully entering my residence?" she demanded.

"My apologies, Lady Wintermere. I extended an invitation to him. I simply did not anticipate such a… boisterous entrance," Alex explained.

He directed a stern look at Raven Horn, but the older man merely offered a casual shrug before seating himself comfortably beside Alex.

With Raven Horn now positioned at his side and the BattleBane Guild Master—a Saint—standing silently behind him, Alex became an even more profound enigma in Lady Wintermere’s estimation.

"What exactly is this display?" she inquired coolly. "Is this intended as a threat?"

"Certainly not." Alex shook his head calmly.

"This merely serves as confirmation of my prior assertion. With the BattleBanes, I can rival the combat prowess of your Drumvale branch in BloodIron. Concurrently, the Black Scar Syndicate grants me parity with your influence and reach."

Alex paused, tilting forward slightly, his forearms resting on his lap.

He then proceeded.

"The individual you have thus far supported has undergone a transformation. He has shifted from being an advantage to a detriment. I extended an offer to Brock Peyton for an amicable resolution of our disputes, but he opted instead to disrespect me and escalate the conflict.

"His audacity in doing so stems from his belief in your endorsement."

His voice remained level, yet each word resonated with undeniable gravity.

"I am not here to issue threats. My sole purpose in coming is to inform you directly that when Brock Peyton's support structures begin to crumble, you must abstain from intervention. Failure to do so will compel me to involve your entire branch in the predicament he has instigated—though I would much rather avert such an unfavorable outcome for everyone involved."

Alex shifted back in his seat.

"As previously stated, our relationship is purely transactional; there is no irreconcilable conflict between us as of yet. Since my intention is to remove one of your pieces from the board, I would prefer to replace it with a superior alternative... should you be open to negotiation."

He turned his gaze towards Raven Horn.

Without a word, Raven Horn presented him with a small satchel.

Alex opened it, calmly emptying its contents onto the glass surface separating them.

The instant the items settled, both Lady Wintermere and her butler’s gazes intensified.

Lady Wintermere's breathing quickened subtly—a change imperceptible to most, but not to those present.

"Your reinforcement of Brock Peyton’s position has escalated markedly in recent weeks, enabling him, among other actions, to leverage your sway within the City Administration Building against me. It has come to my attention that this increased support is entirely linked to Theolonium.

"I have pondered extensively why a woman of your caliber, grace, and intelligence would permit a ruffian like Peyton to tarnish both your reputation and that of your merchant enterprise by allowing him to exploit your influence for such vulgar objectives. However, I have since uncovered the reason."

Alex’s stare remained unwavering.

"A cursory investigation reveals that your branch has secured supply contracts with numerous Temples and ecclesiastical figures concerning this very resource. Should these agreements falter, your Demin Trade Shop would face severe peril. This, I surmise, is the reason you have been compelled to yield so much to Peyton."

He paused, observing Lady Wintermere’s reaction before proceeding.

"If this assessment is accurate, then allow me to resolve this issue for you. My proposition is straightforward—a four-party accord. With myself serving as the facilitator and mediator, the Black Scar Syndicate will furnish the requisite Theolonium, along with any other materials currently provided by the Lost Heathens.

"The BattleBane Guild will assume responsibility for the security of all transportation through the Wildlands, while your Drumvale Merchant Company will manage sales and distribution beyond the Wildlands."

"This is my proposal to you." He concluded.

Lady Wintermere remained silent for a brief period before inquiring,

"And precisely how do you envision the allocation of profits?"

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