Nakamura's smile stayed on his lips, but his fingers twitched at his side.
"Before we begin, let us agree on terms," he said smoothly, voice echoing off stone. "This is a peace council. No threats, no spells, no sudden movements."
Fang said nothing, but Smoke slowly rose and padded toward him. The message was clear: peace did not mean disarmament.
Fujin raised a hand before things could curdle. "All present agreed to this meeting for the sake of stability," he said. "Let's speak plainly. The bounty on the chosen ones has ended. But the issue that caused it remains."
"And what issue is that?" Isgram asked flatly.
Nakamura interlaced his fingers, ignoring the bite in Isgram's tone. "Fear," he said. "Fear that magic beyond our understanding will destroy everything we've built. You see, your kind—"
"Chosen," Gaia interrupted, her voice like cracking stone. "You can say it."
Nakamura didn't flinch. "Chosen. Reborn. Monsters. Depends on who you ask."
Fang got up from his seat, and stepped forward, a full step up the platform. The guards near the doors tensed, but no one moved.
"You tried to kill me," Fang said. "Say that plainly."
Fujin's expression tightened, but Nakamura stayed composed. "That bounty wasn't official," he said. "It was privately financed. An error in judgment. One I regret."
"Who paid for it?" Gaia asked.
Nakamura turned to her, but it was Fujin who answered. "Ferdinand of House Gorm. A landholder. He rents half of Whitemoor's farmland. And he feared you would destabilize the region."
Nakamura let out an exasperated sigh as he knew that the poor bastard was doomed from now on.
"We haven't even left the forest," Fang said coldly.
"And yet," Nakamura said, "your presence ripples like a stone tossed into a calm pond. Farmers speak your name. Merchants whisper of rabbits made of shadow. People believe the old gods are awakening again. Do you not see how dangerous faith can be?"
There was silence. Then Fang smiled, and it wasn't friendly.
"Good," he said. "Let them believe."
Nakamura pinched his temples, "To you, they are gods and saviours. To some of the residents of this world, they are saviours too.
But the majority? The majority thinks that they are a blight.
A collective of super-enhanced beings with too much ambition."
Fang's smile turned into a grimace. His fingers curled at his sides, and the veins under his skin darkened as mana stirred.
"Blight?" he repeated, voice low. "You hid in your walls while they hunted us like animals. You lit the torches, Nakamura. Don't pretend you didn't know where the fire would spread."
Gaia stepped beside him, hand brushing his arm. "Fang. Breathe."
He didn't move.
Nakamura's tone softened, careful now. "I only meant to highlight the perception among the people. You must understand, governing a region is—"
"Manipulation," Isgram cut in. His arms were crossed, but his eyes flared like coals. "You mean manipulation. You played both sides, Nakamura. You backed the bounty with silence, and now you cry diplomacy when the wind shifted."
Nakamura's voice grew tight. "I cannot publicly explain why more than a hundred armed men disappeared in the space of a season. Whitemoor would panic. Trade would collapse. The High Council would demand an investigation."
"You mean they'd find out how deeply you let Ferdinand dig his claws into your city," Fang said.
He stepped forward again. The guards shifted, but Smoke stood now at Fang's side, teeth bared. Gaia stayed still, watching everyone, a quiet sentinel of stone.
"I don't want your admission," Fang said. "I want the ones responsible. I want the blood price."
Nakamura opened his mouth—but Fujin spoke instead.
"It's already been taken care of."
Fang blinked. Gaia's eyes narrowed. Isgram's head turned.
Nakamura slowly turned to the chief, voice incredulous. "What?"
Fujin met his gaze without flinching. "Ferdinand was removed from the equation. Quietly. Without scandal. His influence is gone, and his lands will be redistributed through proxy. Consider it preventative."
"You had no jurisdiction!" Nakamura snapped, rising from his seat. "Whitemoor is not Davra! You think you can assassinate a noble under our protection?"
Fujin's gaze didn't waver. "He approached the royal court. Had he succeeded, he would have drawn scrutiny to the entire western flank. Rumors of instability. Whispers of rebellions. The dwarven clans would've taken it as an excuse to send 'observers.' We both know what that would mean."
Nakamura clenched his jaw. "You acted on your own."
Fujin smiled, but there was no warmth. "I acted for Edenia."
The room fell quiet again. Fang glanced at Gaia, who gave him the smallest nod. Then he turned back to Nakamura.
"Then this council has served its purpose," Fang said. "But understand this. We don't want war. We want space. You let another snake slither into our lands, and next time, we won't settle for shadows."
Nakamura's jaw ticked. "Understood. But for you to live in this region, you must show a sense of cooperation. If you want me to sell this deal publicly, I must give a new trade route from your territory to our city. You do understand that, right?
Fang's eyes narrowed, and he sat down again, and Gaia did too. "A trade route, you say? You offer silver?"
Nakamura nodded, smoothing his robe with practiced calm. "Yes. Something tangible. If I return to the council empty-handed...
No agreement, no benefit.
Then I will get protests. But if I present you as partners, as contributors to the region's stability... that buys peace. Real peace. Especially when the chosen ones are known for their... unique skills. It is no secret that your magical potential is practically limitless. Maybe you can use your skills to make a trade of it."
Isgram scoffed. "So you want a way out of this embarrassment, and not to actually trade with us."
"Call it what you like," Nakamura said. "But it gives you legitimacy. A recognized supply line from your haven to Whitemoor. Protected. Taxed lightly. Monitored, of course, but respected."
Fang didn't answer immediately. He turned, walking slowly toward the center of the chamber. "And if we refuse?"
Nakamura spread his hands. "Then I can't protect you from the next wave of mercenaries, or worse, from the higher circles asking questions. You'll remain ghosts. Dangerous ones, yes. But ghosts are hunted eventually. You want space? Then take the deal that gives you roots."
Gaia stepped forward. "And if we accept, what do you want flowing through this route?"
"Ores, Medicines, and Steel forged tools, if you have them.
Stories, even. Let the people believe the gods are good, maybe they will bless this land with more magic users by doing so. It has been a long time since the gods fought, and since then, very few have earned the aptitude for magic."
Fang exchanged a look with Gaia, then Isgram. No words were needed.
Then Fang turned back and said, "We'll give you your trade route. But we choose what flows through it, and who speaks for us."
"Done," Nakamura said quickly.
Fujin raised a brow. "You're eager, Mayor..."
"Because I'm not stupid," Nakamura said, voice dry. "You don't cage a storm. You build a shrine and pray it stays outside your door."
Fang's smile returned—sharp, unreadable. "Then start praying."
He turned and walked out of the hall, Smoke at his heels. Gaia and Isgram followed, the echo of their footsteps leaving the chamber colder than before.
Nakamura stayed seated, shoulders tense. Fujin, still calm, leaned back and said, "You just gave legitimacy to the most dangerous force this region's seen in a century."
Nakamura stared at the door with a half smile. "No," he murmured. "I bought a new friend."
Fujin just smiled.
"You're not ready for friends like that," Fujin said, folding his arms.
Nakamura chuckled without humor. "No one is."
Fujin's eyes narrowed. "That kind of thinking is what nearly let Ferdinand bring ruin on us all."
"Ferdinand was a fool," Nakamura snapped. "He played noble games in a forest full of gods and got crushed like a beetle. I don't plan to make the same mistake."
"Then stop pretending you can manage them." Fujin stood slowly. "You didn't buy loyalty today. You bought time. That's all. And I promise you, Fang knows it."
Nakamura glanced at him, something flickering behind his eyes. "What about you, Chief? You really think you're safe just because you buried one snake?"
Fujin smiled thinly. "I didn't bury one. I dug out the whole nest."
That made Nakamura sit up straighter. "What do you mean?"
"I mean Ferdinand wasn't acting alone." Fujin began walking toward the exit, calm but cold. "And neither was I."
Nakamura's smile faded. "You've made moves without informing Whitemoor?"
Fujin didn't look back. "You said it yourself—pray the storm stays outside. I've been praying to the gods while you drafted speeches. It just happened that the gods answered to my calls."
He paused at the door, then glanced over his shoulder.
"The next time you sit across from gods wearing mortal skins, don't speak like you're holding their leash. It insults them—and worse, it shows you're too blind to see who's really holding the chain. May the gods have mercy on your city for the actions of the nobles."
And with that, Fujin left Nakamura alone in the echoing chamber.
For a long moment, the mayor sat still.