Chapter 245: Betrayal

The first person to be utterly baffled by Kaisen's absurd statement was, of course, Roland himself. He had to question if his ears were playing tricks on him, but his warrior instincts never lied.

What the hell did that filthy human just say? Help from a human?

For someone who's been marinating in pride and the whole "I'm a proud cat kin" mantra, this was a slap in the face. The mere thought of stooping to that level was beyond humiliating—it was downright degrading.

"What is the meaning of this, Roland?"

Elder Lenon finally managed to ask, trying to keep his composure while suppressing the urge to have a full-blown aneurysm.

He was itching for someone to blame, and now he had a prime target: the very family he'd been eyeing with suspicion.

"I have no idea what this bastard is talking about, respected Elder! I swear on my family name!"

Roland stammered, his head, which had momentarily lifted due to the commotion, now sinking lower than a guilty child caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

Everyone was thrown for a loop; Roland was known for being as honest as the day is long, a pillar of integrity even in a shitstorm. Even Elder Lenon was thrown off by his claim.

"Boy, you better be telling the truth, or else—"

"What do you mean, old man?"

In the blink of an eye, Kaisen appeared right in front of Roland, squatting down so fast that everyone had to do a double-take. All they saw was a blur, like some demented cat toy that zipped across the room.

"Don't you remember last night? You were practically crying in your beer about the Dog Tribe's frequent strategic attacks. You were all, 'Oh no, the next time they come, the casualties will be sky-high!' Remember that?"

Kaisen's delivery was so smooth, so dripping with sincerity, that even a skeptical toddler might've believed him.

Roland, though, stood there with a look on his face like he was trying to solve a Rubik's Cube while hungover.

Did he really say something like that to this slippery bastard? His brain fumbled around in his memories, but all he could clearly recall was that sweet, sweet slap he delivered to his wife and daughter—and, wait, some blurry images of him letting this human stay at his home.

But why the hell would he do that? The very thought of treating a human like a guest was as appealing to him as chugging sour milk. Humans had already caused enough chaos for his tribe; he wasn't about to invite one over for tea and crumpets.

Yet, why did he let this human into his house?

"I... I don't..."

Roland mumbled, his mind doing mental gymnastics as the memories slowly trickled back. He had to squint, almost as if it would help him see his thoughts better, but damn it, he was starting to piece it together.

"What's the meaning of this, Roland? Is it a yes or a no?"

Elder Nora asked, her frown so deep it looked like her face was folding in on itself. Even she couldn't wrap her head around the idea of Roland, Mr. Honor and Pride himself, cozying up to a human.

Kaisen, on the other hand, was secretly delighted.

Seeing Roland, the so-called ideal cat tribe warrior, reduced to a defeated shell was more satisfying than he could have imagined.

After all, this man might have been a great warrior, but as a father and husband? He didn't even come close.

"See that? What did I tell you?"

Kaisen's grin was practically dripping with smug satisfaction.

"Now that you've had a taste of what I can do, how about letting me help you out? Or are you all too proud to accept a hand from a human? Don't worry, it won't hurt your fragile egos... too much."

The jab hit its mark, and the cat tribe members bristled like a bunch of riled-up tomcats. Exactly the reaction Kaisen was fishing for.

If they caved now, the payoff would be meager. But if he could push them to the brink, until they were begging for his help? Well, then he'd be the hero of the hour—and reap all the juicy rewards that came with it.

"Shut up, human! We don't need anything from the likes of you!"

Elder Lenon spat on the ground, his disgust palpable.

"And you, Roland? Stooping so low as to ask for help from a lesser species? Your ancestors must be rolling over in their graves!"

Lenon's voice was dripping with contempt, and he spat again, this time with enough force to make a point.

Roland, however, remained as still as a statue, his head hung so low it might as well have been dragging on the floor.

Kaisen just chuckled, clearly enjoying the show.

"You talk a big game, old man. But let's be real—how many of you are going to survive the next Dog Tribe attack? Are you ready to watch your family get torn apart because you're too damn proud to accept a little help? Or are you just itching for a one-way trip to the afterlife?"

"Insolence!"

Elder Lenon bellowed, his mana surging like a pissed-off volcano ready to blow its top.

"Nobody in this village is going to seek your help, human! If we do, I'll personally roll out the royal treatment for you!"

Lenon's sarcasm was thicker than the tension in the room, but Kaisen wasn't fazed.

"Oh, I'm counting on it, old man," Kaisen replied, his grin widening. "And when that time comes, don't worry—I'll make sure your 'royal treatment' is worth every second."

Kaisen smirked, practically glowing with triumph. He had them right where he wanted them.

Not only was he about to squeeze rewards out of Roland's family, but the entire village was about to be his playground. And he planned to savor every second of it.