CHAPTER EIGHT — The Bargain of Blood and Fire
The village lay silent, trembling under the golden light of the descending angels. Dust drifted through the air, catching the illumination like sparks frozen mid-flight. Eyron stepped forward, shoulders squared, eyes cold and calculating. Behind him, the family waited—Arian with his hand on his sword, Sera's fingers tight around hidden blades, the youngest clinging nervously to their mother.
The first angel's voice cut through the tension, deep and resonant, echoing off the nearby trees:
"Mortal… you presume to command in matters of divine judgment. Speak. What is it you seek?"
Eyron inhaled, letting his Analyse skill sweep over every movement, every micro-shift in the angels' posture, every faint fluctuation in energy. Their wings beat lightly against the air, massive, radiant, almost suffocating in their brilliance.
He exhaled slowly. "I seek terms. Terms that honor the law you follow without spilling unnecessary blood. My family is not guilty of the debts my ancestors incurred. If your collection touches innocents, it will violate your own rules."
The second angel's spear glowed brighter, wings flexing like coiled steel. "And if we do not honor your terms, mortal?"
Eyron's eyes flicked to his siblings. Arian's jaw tightened, Sera's fists clenched, and even the smallest—Lily—pressed herself against his leg, trembling. He let a small, cold smile cross his lips.
"Then," he said slowly, each word deliberate, "I will command my family to burn this village to the ground. Every structure, every grain of wheat, every living thing tied to it… destroyed. Not out of cruelty, but to preserve the laws of your heavens. Collateral damage is unacceptable, and I will not allow you to break it."
There was a pause. The air quivered. Even the angels shifted slightly, as though the weight of the words had reached their radiant bones.
Eyron continued, voice growing colder. "I am not bargaining for myself. I am bargaining for my family. For my siblings. For the future of the Arknight lineage. I will be the next king. I will restore this nation to its full glory. And if I succeed…" His eyes briefly flicked to his parents, standing silently, courage etched into every line of their faces, "—you will release them. Not eternity, but six years. After six years of they will be released, spared. But if I fail…" His voice dropped to a whisper, sharp and dangerous, "then the entire Arknight generation ends here. All of us. Every child, every heir, every remnant of our line. Gone."
The first angel inclined its head, wings flickering with a faint, unreadable motion. "Bold. Calculated. Foolish."
Eyron's heart pounded, yet his face betrayed no fear. He glanced at his siblings again.
"Do you… agree?" Sera whispered, hesitation cracking her calm.
"I am ready," Arian said firmly, voice steady but eyes betraying tension. "But this… this is beyond anything we've faced. If he commands it, I will obey. I will destroy the village if necessary."
Eyron nodded once. "That is all I require. Trust me to steer this path. Hesitation will cost more than failure. We move with precision—or we perish."
Lisha and Liam, still trembling, peered at him with wide, fearful eyes. "Eyron…" Lisha whispered. "Are you sure?"
"Yes," he said softly, bending slightly to meet her gaze. "Because if I am not, none of us survive."
The angels shifted, their massive forms folding slightly as if reconsidering their assumptions. The second angel lowered its spear, wings flexing with controlled energy. The first spoke again, voice slower, deliberate:
"Your terms… are audacious. You would risk everything, even the innocent, to force compliance?"
Eyron's lips curved into a thin, sharp smile. "I do not risk their lives. I risk the village because that is all that remains between your judgment and mine. I calculate every outcome. You may have power, but I have foresight. I have strategy. I have a mind."
A long silence followed. The wind shifted. Dust fell from the rooftops. Every villager who dared peek from their homes froze under the golden radiance. The angels hovered, wings tense, yet… intrigued.
Then the first angel extended a hand, not in attack but in… acknowledgment. The second's spear lowered slightly, still brimming with energy, yet restrained.
"You are… unusual, mortal," the first angel said. "Few dare speak of annihilation and negotiation in the same breath. Your family… you have placed them in your hands."
Eyron's Analyse flashed new notifications:
[NEGOTIATION SKILL ACTIVE — Divine Entities: Level 2]
[Potential Outcome: High Risk, High Reward]
He stepped forward, closer to the angels, calm and ruthless. "Then speak your counter. I will consider it. But understand this—I will bend rules, I will manipulate, I will calculate every flaw in your judgment. And if you touch a single innocent—my family will unleash the full force of the Arknight bloodline. Laws of heaven or no, consequences will be absolute."
The angels paused, hovering. Their wings cast massive shadows across the trembling village. Eyron's siblings tensed, ready to strike at a whisper. The younger children whimpered behind their parents, too young to understand, yet sensing the sheer weight of the moment.
And there, standing among his family, Eyron smiled with cold certainty. He had set the terms, laid the stakes, and forced the heavens themselves to consider him.
Could a mortal truly negotiate with the enforcers of heaven? And if he failed… would the world burn with him?