Chapter 315

The two Negotiators show up unaccompanied, a well-dressed but frail looking human man with coal black skin who, by Cain’s guess, was nearly a hundred accompanied by his later middle aged son, or possibly grandson, given that visible age can be deceptive in this world. 

“Greetings, Negotiators; please come in and we can talk over breakfast. I know nothing about Garda, and I’ll need to know the history of this conflict before we go.” Cain welcomes them.

“Thank you, Duke Cain. The situation is utterly predictable, I’m afraid. A new divine leader has taken over in Garda, and they’re testing the treaties with their neighbors. Garda is a theocracy run by their Highest Priestess who can claim to have some level of Angelic lineage. The succession is a bit convoluted, but it doesn’t matter right now.” The younger man informs him. 

“The previous leader was dissatisfied with the treaty but couldn’t get leverage over Skyview. Garda is essentially a city-state but with a few surrounding farming villages that produce scarce and high quality alchemical ingredients. Some from the land, but mostly from a unique form of dungeon that replicates the estate of an ancient being which once stood where their city now stands.” The older negotiator says slowly, as though the act of speaking pains  him. 

“Would you like me to do something about your lungs? We’ve got several skilled Clerics and Shamans here.” Cain says softly, and the older man smiles. 

“I was ninety-five when the system went out of control. Unless you can turn back the hands of time, I am afraid there’s not much to be done for me.” The older man chuckles, making the Guild members at the table laugh. 

Elmira flies over and lands on the man’s outstretched hands, placing her hand on her hips like it could make make the Pixie be seen as more authoritative. “The Guild Master is an Ancient Flesh Crafter. He could turn you into an Elven schoolgirl and have the system recognize it.”

“Is good to be a protective little one, but don’t go too far.” The younger negotiator laughs, handing Elmira a piece of caramel candy. 

“It’s not an exaggeration. If I fully transform a body, the system recognizes it and changes their species. Cyrene, Count Dufas’s daughter, should be down soon, and you’ll understand when you see her.” Cain says, offering the senior his arm to balance while he got seated. 

Brother Liu comes out to take their breakfast order while the two look around the room in wonder. All the Companions are here, chatting away, along with a dozen Guild members, but that’s still only a quarter of the seating in the main dining room. Misha and Cyrene join them after a moment, Cyrene in a red sundress, Misha in gold. They’re the official colors of the nation of Skyview, and Cain chose them to make a point. 

The official colors will act the same as carrying a flag or pennant behind him. Still, the casual style suggests that he sees no need for extreme formality and that he doesn’t see the other side as his superiors. After all, he technically rules a city and surrounding region as well. 

“Will these lovely ladies be our honor guard then?” The negotiator smiles as they enter, hand in hand, and take seats on either side of Cain. 

“No, they’re to accompany me. I’ll bring an honor guard of four Seraphim since Evangeline so graciously offered.”

The Seraphim twins stop making honey and sliced fruit sandwiches for the trio of pixies in the room and look up, startled. “What are we doing? Finally, a dungeon again?”

“Maybe later. We’re going to visit some people who claim to have Seraphim blood, and ask them to behave.”

“Oh. That’s not a problem. A change of scenery is always fun.”

Cain turns back to the Negotiators and gets back to business. “How long has it been going on, and what has been tried to get them to behave so far.”

“One month. So far, our response hasn’t escalated past warnings and a few delayed merchant caravans. We’ve been careful to hold up our ends of the treaty.” Donovan, the younger negotiator, clarifies, bringing out a map with a list of incidents rolled up in it. 

“The next step would be retaliatory tariffs, reduction in sales volumes, or the worst-case scenario, scrapping the treaty and imposing a full embargo.”

That makes good sense to Cain. He just needs to find out their problem and get them to agree to stop messing with Skyview while these two finalize the details. 

“It looks like we’re ready to go. Evangeline, if you can drop your Merger. Unless you’d prefer to stay here, then I’ll Summon a few instead.” Cain informs the still snack distracted Seraphim Companions.

“I’m with you. Who knows what weird things the Inquisitors might tell you to do if they went instead.” Evangeline laughs and waves a goodbye to the pixies and their tabletop candy-making session. 

If seeing two Seraphim suddenly turn into four shocks them the Negotiators don’t show it, giving Cain a good impression of their ability to remain impassive looking during the proceedings. They also know the location name for the public portal in Garda, which serves as a code word for determining your final location during travel to public places.

That brings them to an open garden outside a walled city. They’re surrounded by guards watching the area and herb farmers; all dressed in a crude approximation of the togas that the Heavenly Host human forces wear under their armor.

[Were their citizens once part of the Heavenly Host?] Cain asks Donovan with a private message. 

[They were, but they failed in their mission and were excommunicated as incompetent. Please don’t bring it up.]

Cain lets the others know as well, and they leisurely make their way to the city gates, admiring the scenery and the smell of fresh herbs. 

“State your name and business in Garda.” The gate guard says, giving the group an intrigued look. Actual full-blooded Seraphim are rarely seen, much less four at a time.

“Duke Cain, of Long Fang Valley. Appointed Chief Negotiator by the King of Skyview, here to discuss the treaty between our nations.” Cain says formally, and the guard bows.

A few minutes later, a man in ornate robes comes to the gates and looks over the group with disdain, seemingly not noticing that the Seraphim are with them and not just standing behind them. 

“Only those deemed worthy by the Heavenly Host may enter the city, step aside and let our esteemed guests through.” The man demands in a pompous tone, glaring at Cyrene and the Negotiators. 

Cain obliges, and the whole group moves off the road, confusing the High Priest when Evangeline remains behind them. 

“What is this? Who do you think you are, placing Seraphim beneath your rank?” The man screams. 

[I may have made a minor miscalculation.] Cain sends to the two Negotiators, who facepalm. 

“I am Duke Cain of Long Fang Valley, Ancient Flesh Crafter and appointed Chief Negotiator by the King of Skyview. These Seraphim are my Summoned Companions. If you doubt my words, I can request the presence of the Holy Inquisitors to verify that I speak the truth.”

The priest now looks like he may have just had a heart attack. He is bone white and sweating, an incredibly unnatural pallor on his golden tanned skin. 

“There will be no need for the Holy Inquisition, Duke Cain; we were aware of your arrival.” A younger woman’s voice comes from behind the High Priest, and an even more elaborately dressed woman comes into sight. 

Evangeline does her best to hide her smile; the Divine Host doesn’t use decoration for ranks; it’s either by your wings for Seraphim or by the cut of their sleeves for humans. The way these leaders are drenched in gold might explain why they were abandoned as unsuitable to be members of the Heavenly Host. 

“Even a secular noble and a pauper of a Seraphim are welcome in our city when welcomed by the Highest Priestess. Please, do come in.” The High Priest declares reluctantly, and the Negotiators start to wonder just exactly how they’re going to deal with this mission. 

Instead, Cain makes that decision for them. “That’s enough disrespect from an apostate priest, excommunicated for heresy. Inquisitors, we require your presence.”

At Cain’s declaration, the entire area goes silent in awe and horror at this man’s nerve, then Cain’s Summoned Seraphim Inquisitors arrive. All twenty-four of them. 

“Kindly explain to this gaudily dressed man what the ranking of a Six Winged Seraphim is and how little they value gold.” Cain smiles, and the Inquisitors give him a wink before a pair drag the high priest into the guardhouse. 

Every human in the area, the city leader included, is prostrate on their knees now, bowing before the Inquisitors and the wrathful aura they’ve cranked to its maximum setting.

“To think that greed had dragged our former followers so low. Go, take care of business while we educate the masses in proper manners.” The Inquisitor nearest Cain informs him. 

[What sort of negotiation is this, you madman.] Donovan sends to Cain, as the Flesh Crafter gently helps the city leader to her feet before Evangeline uses a holy spell to clean the Highest Priestess’s garments.