Shadows of the Deep Space Chapter 1691 - 539: Declaration of War

After hearing Isawen’s words, the Hotega Country Master sank into deep silence.

These feeble nations had no alternatives; yielding could be their sole path forward.

Isawen then grinned at the assembly and delivered the ultimate demand.

"Ladies and gentlemen, consider it wisely. But remember, your time is short—no later than six this evening! Without a reply or sufficient payment, I’m afraid you must vacate Black Flame Star!"

"Isn’t this forcing us to our doom?"

"The Federation can’t possibly pull this off."

...

The venue erupted in chaos among the country masters and nobles.

Ignoring the crowd’s outrage, Isawen turned and strode toward the elevated platform.

Moments slipped away one by one.

Torment built relentlessly for everyone present, yet no one abandoned the grand hall.

For this spot held their final glimmer of hope; departing would slam shut that last door.

From atop the platform, Isawen and Roli peered down, casting an intangible weight of pressure.

Hours ticked by before Monica and her companions anxiously questioned Vox.

"Father, what do we do now?"

"Hold on a moment longer—these Federation types crave profits above all, so hope endures. Even in the worst scenario, I won’t hand you over."

Vox declared, his face shadowed in gloom.

"Father..."

Monica and the others’ voices trembled with emotion.

"It’s alright, I’m right here!"

Vox reassured Monica and her group.

Meanwhile, legs crossed, Isawen lifted his wrist to glance at the hour. Five-thirty in the evening. He then descended the platform and announced to the gathering.

"Half an hour remains; once it’s up, kindly depart!"

His declaration plunged the entire room into panic.

Princess Maryla paled, her lip caught lightly between her teeth as she spoke to the Baistein Country Master.

"Father, I’ll sacrifice myself for the kingdom."

"My dear daughter, your father has failed you."

The Baistein Country Master’s face twisted in anguish at her words, his eyes growing misty as he replied.

Stifling her grief, Princess Maryla shook her head and called out to Isawen.

"Lord Isawen, I agree!"

"Princess Maryla truly grasps the smart decision!"

Spotting her concession, Isawen’s face lit up with a radiant grin as he advanced to respond.

"Lord Isawen, can we get a reduction on our country’s entry fee?"

Her face drained of color, Princess Maryla pleaded.

"Naturally, I’ll cut you a deal—just 300 billion! But Princess Maryla, why so ashen? You seem utterly reluctant!"

Isawen inquired, smirking.

"Exactly—serving our master is a rare honor; others beg fruitlessly for it."

One of Isawen’s followers boasted smugly.

Princess Maryla hung her head in silence.

The Baistein Country Master then rushed forward, begging Isawen earnestly.

"Lord Isawen, my daughter’s very shy—could we lower the fee further? 300 billion is far too steep."

"Certainly, if Princess Maryla smiles, we can discuss terms!"

Isawen replied with a grin.

Hearing this, the Baistein Country Master whipped around, gazing at Maryla with desperate hope in his eyes.

Tears trailed down Maryla’s cheeks right then, yet she mustered a faint smile for Isawen.

"Very well, we’ll knock off another 100 billion Federation Coins!"

Isawen beamed at the Baistein Country Master.

Truth be told, Isawen and his crew had long probed the Baistein Country Master’s finances; they precisely knew how much they could wring from these folks.

"Thank you!"

The Baistein Country Master thanked him profusely.

Nearby rulers stirred with unease; 500 billion exceeded their limits, but a drop to one or two billion might just be bearable, sparing a thread of survival.

In a flash, their mental barriers shattered, and they clamored to Isawen one after another.

"Lord Isawen, we agree too!"

...

"Deal!"

Isawen grinned while bargaining with each in turn.

Before long, every country master had sealed a pact with Isawen.

Then, a plump, mustached man from Kaye Country, unnoticed so far, dashed up to Isawen in haste.

"Lord Isawen, my daughter’s quite alluring too, eager to serve you. Might we get a discount?"

Isawen glanced over; beholding the master’s 260-pound behemoth of a daughter, his expression soured as he snarled.

"Scram!"

Isawen’s group weren’t blinded by base desires—only the specified neutral nations held worth. The ignored ones were already broke, offering no real haul. Admitting them brought no profit, only resource drain and disorder.

The Kaye Country Master flinched, neck shrinking as he slunk back.

Moments later, Isawen approached the Hotega Country Master again, smiling as he queried.

"Hotega Country Master, made your choice?"

The Hotega Country Master wrestled with torment; he never imagined reaching such a dire pass.

Right then, Princess Fen Ni—in a flowing blue gown, her hair a soft green—rose and addressed the Hotega Country Master.

"Father, to safeguard our people, I’m willing!"

The Hotega Country Master’s face filled with bleak sorrow at Fen Ni’s words, his body quivering faintly as he murmured.

"My precious daughter!"