Logan shifted uncomfortably under the intense gaze of the middle-aged beastman before him. The air, previously thick with an unspoken challenge, seemed to lighten as the beastman demeanor changed.
"You're a guest in my home; please, take a seat," the beastman said, gesturing to a plush sofa nearby.
"My name is Lalar. I'm Jean's father," he introduced himself, his voice a mix of pride and scrutiny. "My daughter speaks very highly of you. She says you possess remarkable qualities."
"But, from what I see," Lalar continued, his eyes narrowing slightly, "while your appearance is indeed striking, your strength does not match up. It's somewhat... underwhelming."
Logan felt a flush of embarrassment warm his cheeks as he sank into the sofa opposite Lalar. He remembered feeling strong among the Silvermane tribe, where being a young fourth-level warrior was an impressive feat. Yet, here in Canyon City, surrounded by numerous fourth and fifth-level warriors, his prowess seemed merely average.
"And, to be candid," Lalar leaned forward, eyeing Logan thoughtfully, "while you stand at the fourth level, my son Jean has not only reached the fifth level but also boasts the talents of a sixth-level magician. The disparity is quite significant."
Caught off guard by his prospective father-in-law's frankness, Logan struggled for a response.
After a brief, awkward silence, he managed to muster, "I appreciate your honesty, Uncle."
Lalar's laugh broke the tension. "No need for such formality or reservation. I'm always straightforward. If Jean holds you in high regard, you must have qualities that truly stand out. You're young yet, freshly an adult; there's plenty of time for you to grow stronger."
Relief washed over Logan as Lalar's tone warmed with amusement and a hint of approval. "Just the day before yesterday, I returned home to hear from my eldest that she'd set her sights on a beastman," Lalar shared, shaking his head in bemusement. "You can imagine my surprise. She's met many promising young men since reaching adulthood, yet none caught her fancy until you."
Curiosity piqued, Lalar leaned in closer, his expression one of genuine interest. "Tell me, how did you come to meet my daughter Jean?"
"Uncle, to be honest, I've only been in Canyon City for five days," Logan replied, his voice steady but honest. "And I've known Jean for just as long."
Logan nodded thoughtfully, a knowing smile playing on his lips. It seemed this formidable father-in-law might just be more understanding than Logan had initially feared.
"Five days?" Lalar repeated, his voice tinged with disbelief. He couldn't help questioning his own hearing, even though his senses were as sharp as ever.
With a puzzled frown, Lalar sank into his thoughts, his gaze drifting away momentarily. Logan, noticing the furrow in Lalar's brow, shifted uneasily on the plush sofa, its softness suddenly seeming less comforting. He cast a hopeful glance towards the door, silently willing Jean's timely arrival.
"Yet, you must realize, as a father, it's unsettling to hear a potential son-in-law admit he cannot fully devote himself to love," Lalar pointed out with a gentle firmness. "Why be so forthright about it?"
"I believe in honesty, Uncle. I think you and I are similar in that regard," Logan responded with a small, confident smile. He was sincere; his goals for his tribe meant he couldn't afford the luxury of a conventional romantic focus.
Lalar paused, struck by the young man's candor. In recent years, his own commitments to his mercenary group had indeed led him to neglect his familial and emotional ties. Logan's openness resonated with him, eliciting a reflective sigh.
Lalar sighed deeply, the weight of parental love etched into his voice. "Boy, men who prioritize their careers can indeed be admirable."
"You've passed the test!" he announced, a grudging respect in his tone.
"But remember," Lilar's voice grew serious, "she is my eldest daughter, my pride. My love for her surpasses everything. I've been strict, even harsh at times, but I never want her to face such hardships in marriage."
Logan listened intently, understanding the depth of a father's concern. "Uncle, please be assured, I may be stern, but I would never mistreat my partner," Logan vowed earnestly.
"And frankly, I couldn't best her even if I tried!" he added with a wry smile.
Lalar paused, then laughter erupted from him, breaking the earlier tension. "That's true! Her talents might even surpass yours. It seems unlikely you'll ever outmatch her."
The room's atmosphere lightened considerably at Logan's candid admission.
"I admire your spirit," Lalar said, his tone now teasing, "but aspiring to be the master of the wasteland is like an ant challenging a dragon."
"Uncle, an ant cannot challenge a dragon," Logan conceded with a chuckle. "But what if that ant is a young dragon itself, not yet fully grown? Then, perhaps, it might not be so far-fetched."
Lalar was taken aback, then smiled broadly. "Alright, I'll be watching you grow then!"
Just then, a voice called from the doorway, "Father, I've been looking for you everywhere! Why are you here?" It was Jean, her figure framed in the doorway, a curious crowd visible behind her.
The sudden appearance of Jean and her entourage added a new layer of excitement to the conversation, signaling a shift from private discussions to more public interactions.