The Guardian gods Chapter 837

Ragnar shattered the heavy silence as he occupied his throne. "We are convened for two critical matters," he declared, his gaze sweeping across the assembled room. "Firstly, we must determine our definitive stance concerning a potential conflict with the Björn people. Secondly, and with equal, pressing importance, we must thoroughly deliberate upon the formal proposal for Princess Lunara's hand in marriage to my heir."

A collective intake of breath swept through the grand chamber, every single set of eyes widening in sheer astonishment.

"Do not ever mistake my intentions as driven by mere sentimentality," Ragnar continued, having clearly anticipated their stunned reactions. "The Queen of Björn is a woman possessed of truly terrifying ambition. She is, without a shadow of a doubt, meticulously calculating the very same variables that occupy my thoughts, maneuvering strategically to secure the Godlings' precious bloodline and immense power for her own ruling house. I have absolutely no intention of standing idly by and watching her succeed."

Ragnar leaned back expansively. "I would much prefer to proactively forge this alliance myself rather than be tragically too late. This is far more than a simple wedding; we are engaged in discussions vital to the strategic fortification of our very survival. Should we successfully secure the Princess, we will effectively neutralize the single greatest threat to our established sovereignty before the very first arrow is even loosed."

The palpable tension within the chamber was an almost physical presence, felt keenly by every individual as the council members held their collective breath, their gazes subtly shifting from the imposing throne towards the three esteemed Paragons, the true and ultimate arbiters of power and influence. Within the hallowed walls of this hall, following the recent and significant shifts in political landscapes, the established hierarchy of power unequivocally dictated that the final, absolute word belonged solely to those elevated figures who sat in positions far above the rest.

The second Paragon, finally shattering the profound stillness. "King Ragnar, we do not, for a moment, dispute Queen Yuki’s formidable ambition. Her notorious ruthlessness is a widely acknowledged fact. However, there exists a fundamental, immutable truth that not even her far-reaching influence can possibly alter."

He deliberately paused, allowing the profound weight of his carefully chosen words to fully resonate before continuing his pronouncement. "The stark reality remains that the Godlings steadfastly do not engage in intermarriage with humans. This is an immutable, sacred tradition, adhered to even more rigorously by those of the royal lineage. To even suggest such a union is to directly defy and ignore the most basic, foundational law established by the Godlings themselves."

The third Paragon adjusted his position within his seat, his hands now firmly folded across his chest. His voice carried a distinctly discernible edge of potent irritation, an thinly veiled challenge masked cleverly as a simple, probing question. "Or perhaps, King Ragnar, you are privy to certain crucial intelligence that has been deliberately kept hidden from our knowledge. You speak of this potential marriage as if it were already a negotiation in advanced progress. Pray tell, what is it that you definitively know that we, your trusted council, do not possess?"

Ragnar allowed a thin, knowing, almost enigmatic smile to grace his lips, completely unfazed by the palpable skepticism radiating from the Paragons. The atmosphere within the expansive room grew considerably heavier, the silence stretching tautly as he met each of their challenging gazes, one by one.

"You speak the truth regarding their long-standing, deeply ingrained isolationist culture," Ragnar conceded gracefully. "However, you are speaking of times that are now firmly relegated to the past. My son has been afforded the exceptionally rare privilege of observing their increasingly shifting societal winds. According to his most recent reports, Princess Lunara herself did not shy away from this potentially delicate topic; on the contrary, she approached it with a telling, notable hesitancy."

He lightly tapped the ornate arm-rest of his throne. "The Godlings, it would seem, will not remain indefinitely locked behind their imposing icy gates or their vast, desolate icy expanse. It is purportedly rumored that an ongoing, concerted effort is being made to traverse the great expanse and establish a new, permanent home amongst our people."

Ragnar leaned forward, his intense gaze locking directly with the still-skeptical Paragons. "That significant transition undoubtedly changes everything. It transforms an effectively closed door into a discernible crack that we possess the capability to forcefully pry open. Marriage between my heir and the Princess is no longer a mere fleeting fever dream or an impossibly far-sighted aspirational goal; it is now a calculated, unavoidable diplomatic necessity that the Godlings themselves would deeply, seriously contemplate."

He straightened up, his commanding posture radiating an aura of absolute, unquestionable authority. "If they are indeed intending to integrate fully into our lands, they will undeniably require an anchor point. They will absolutely require a bridge. And it is my firm intention that my son shall serve as that vital bridge, binding their divine lineage inextricably to our kingdom long before the people of Björn could even conceive of offering them a mere seat at their table."

The collective mental processing of the council members was working overtime, engaged in the silent, intricate calculations of ambitious men and women. Each individual member was already privately weighing the profound implications, not merely for the kingdom's immediate survival, but for the immense potential to weave the potent, sacred divine heritage of the Godlings directly into the fabric of their own esteemed noble bloodlines.

One council member, his voice tinged with undeniable caution, spoke aloud. "Why, after millennia of stoic silence, have the Godlings suddenly decided to shift their established stance so drastically? Has some fundamental, internal transformation truly occurred within their ranks that we have yet to successfully discern, or are they simply engaging in a calculated maneuver to seize the strategic high ground before the rest of the continent even realizes the monumental shift has officially begun?"

Before Ragnar could even formulate his response, one of the influential Paragons stepped forward, decisively breaking the lingering silence. His voice resonated with the unshakeable finality of a royal decree. "Whatever internal catalyst may be driving their profound change is entirely irrelevant to our most immediate and pressing survival needs. We should not, under any circumstances, waste our valuable breath debating the 'why' behind their sudden transformation. As our esteemed King has so exceptionally clearly articulated, our paramount objective must be to act decisively to seize this unfolding advantage. Whether this represents a genuine shift in their inherent nature or merely a shrewd political pivot, we stand to gain absolutely everything if we are the first to align ourselves with their new direction."

Ragnar's grin stretched wider, and he made no effort to conceal his delight. The atmosphere in the chamber had transformed; the initial opposition to his proposal had evaporated, replaced by a palpable, shared craving for advancement. They were no longer arguing against his plan, but rather, their own avarice and aspirations aligned perfectly with his grand vision.

"Then it is settled," Ragnar declared, his voice echoing with the unshakeable authority of a ruler. "We shall proceed with diplomatic engagement. The Godlings will be treated as neighboring realms to be courted, and we will ensure that when they emerge from the Icy Expanse, it is into the embrace of our kingdom, with my son at the very heart of that new epoch."

The council hall thrummed with a fresh, almost frenzied energy. The focus had irrevocably shifted from deliberation to action. With the objective now crystal clear, the council members began to wrangle over the practicalities of the undertaking – a clear indication that Ragnar’s vision had been fully embraced.

Ragnar observed them, his expression unreadable. "This is a twofold endeavor," he announced, his voice slicing through the rising clamor. "We must act with both haste and precision. Two distinct fronts must be managed: one of diplomacy, the other of strategic hindrance."

"Firstly," Ragnar elaborated, indicating a map of the northern continent, "we require an envoy for the Godlings. This individual cannot be a mere diplomat; they must possess significant standing, someone capable of navigating the Godlings' pride while effectively presenting our proposal for union. I designate Lord Kaelen for this crucial role. He is discerning, he is resolute, and he fully comprehends the gravity of our current situation." He glanced at Kaelen, one of the three paragons present.

Shifting his attention to the second matter, Ragnar's gaze intensified. "Regarding the people of Björn, a different kind of envoy is needed. Someone adept at weaving a web of diversions, offering just enough cooperation to procure valuable time. Our objective is not to earn their trust, but to keep their diplomats engrossed in negotiations while we firmly establish our connection with the Godlings."

A ripple of assent spread through the hall. The Paragon who had previously voiced dissent now spoke. "To keep the Björn occupied, we could propose a collaborative border security initiative. It’s a proposition they would find difficult to refuse, especially if framed as a mutual benefit. This should keep their diplomats entangled in protracted discussions for weeks, if not months."

Ragnar gave a slow nod. "Precisely. By the time they discern our true intentions, the bond between my son and Princess Lunara will hopefully be too formidable to break, and the Godlings will already be sailing under our banner."

He surveyed the assembled lords, his eyes like chips of ice, commanding attention. "This is a game of survival. We are not merely defending our territories; we are fundamentally reshaping the map of this continent. Ensure the envoys are fully prepared to depart by dawn. There is absolutely no allowance for failure, and certainly no space for hesitation."

With all preparations finally in place, one of the paragons rose, his gaze sweeping over the council members who, mere moments prior, had worn expressions of profound contentment.

"What course of action shall we take concerning the Crown Prince?" he inquired.

A palpable silence descended upon the chamber. The smiles vanished instantaneously, supplanted by a grim, palpable tension. Even Ragnar, who had been suffused with elation from the successful council session, felt his countenance darken, his posture subtly slumping under the crushing weight of the realization.

The paragon pressed onward, his voice piercing the quiet. "Should this marriage between my son and Princess Lunara proceed as planned, the Crown Prince would forfeit all claim and standing to contend for the throne. He would effectively be surrendering the birthright that is rightfully his."

He met Ragnar's gaze, his eyes sharp and penetrating. "I trust you are not clinging to the naive hope that the Godlings will passively permit a marriage alliance between their Princess and a Prince who offers no viable claim to the crown."

A heavy silence lingered, all eyes fixed on the king, awaiting his response. It was some time before Ragnar finally shattered the stillness. "I have indeed contemplated this matter," he stated, his voice calm yet undeniably absolute. "However, it is a price I am prepared to pay for our collective future."