Chapter 163: Forming Alliance

Syra stopped beside Elian and placed a polished glass slate onto the stone table. The surface glowed instantly, projecting a detailed structural schematic of the Arbiter’s Grace alongside several complex alchemical graphs.

“Your projection of ’absolute’ advantage is mathematically incorrect,” Syra stated coldly. “Our perimeter sensors stripped your vessel’s structural history and mana-residue the moment you crossed the Continental Moat. Your ship sustained massive damage from Fourth Continent heavy naval artillery exactly twenty-one days ago. The hull repairs feature inferior timber and rushed craftsmanship, proving the total loss of your primary eastern shipyards.”

Syra tapped her staff against the stone floor, shifting the projection to display the glowing blue rocks from the docks.

“Furthermore, we analyzed your tribute,” Syra continued relentlessly. “The Aether-Crystals were mined prematurely. The energy density is completely chaotic. Only a collapsing, desperate empire harvests raw materials before maturation to fund a losing war. Your supply lines are suffocating, and your eastern front is already shattered.”

Syra leaned over the table to lock her slitted yellow eyes directly onto the High Envoy.

“You crossed the ocean out of sheer desperation,” she declared. “The Iron Arbiter’s forces and resources are bleeding to death. You are here to beg for our artillery because your empire will fall completely within six months without our intervention. We know the exact depth of your ruin, Envoy.”

The High Envoy slumped back in his heavy wooden chair. His carefully constructed facade crumbled to dust under the Grey-Fin elder’s absolute intelligence. She had completely stripped away his negotiating power using nothing but the evidence his own ship provided, proving exactly why she held such a high position in the Sovereign’s brutal empire.

Elian steepled his thick fingers together. He looked at the defeated diplomat as a predatory gleam finally surfaced in his eyes.

Cassian wiped a bead of cold sweat from his forehead. The suffocating presence of the Vanguard commanders left him no room for diplomatic maneuvering. He abandoned his rigid posture and leaned heavily over the table.

“You leave me no shadows to hide in,” Cassian admitted, his voice tight with desperation. “The Iron Arbiter is losing ground rapidly. Fortunately, we still control the Sunken Gates. I am officially offering you absolute ownership over the Second Continent’s primary naval chokepoint. If you deploy your artillery to break the current siege, we will grant the Vanguard permanent sovereignty over the Gates to give you total dominance across all eastern trade routes.”

It was a massive concession. He was practically surrendering the keys to his empire’s inner waters.

Elian remained perfectly still. The Prophet reached inside his heavy combat armor and pulled out a thick parchment scroll bound in star-iron wire. He tossed it onto the center of the stone table. The heavy metal binding clattered loudly in the quiet chamber.

“The Sovereign already claimed ownership of your trade routes the moment your ship docked,” Elian stated smoothly. “We will provide the heavy artillery you require. However, our terms are absolute.”

Cassian stared at the scroll. He reached out with trembling fingers and unrolled the parchment. His eyes darted rapidly across the brutal demands written in sharp, heavy ink.

“You are demanding full operational autonomy for a Vanguard expeditionary force,” Cassian whispered in horror. “You intend to march an army of fifty thousand troops directly through our sovereign territory under the guise of allied reinforcements. You also demand complete use of our naval shipyards to launch a direct assault on the Fourth Continent.”

“We are taking over the war,” Elian confirmed. He leaned forward to match Cassian’s posture. “The Vanguard fights solely under its own banner. We will use your shores as our staging ground to crush the Fourth Continent. Your empire will supply our logistics, harbor our fleets, and stay completely out of our way while we execute the campaign.”

Iron-Scale stepped away from the pillar. The Kobold’s bladed armor clinked softly in the silent room.

“Accept the terms, Envoy,” Iron-Scale warned. “Otherwise, we will simply wait six months for the Fourth Continent to slaughter your people. We can easily conquer the ruins ourselves after the dust settles.”

Cassian looked at the faces of the human, the Troglodyte, the Kobold, and the Grey-Fin elder. He picked up the heavy quill resting on the table. He had crossed the ocean to hire simple mercenaries. He was now inviting an apex predator directly into his master’s home.

Cassian lowered the heavy quill. He took a shaky breath and attempted a final, desperate negotiation before signing away his empire’s autonomy.

“I cannot blindly sign over our entire infrastructure without establishing logistical boundaries,” Cassian insisted. His voice trembled slightly under the collective gaze of the Vanguard commanders. “Your expeditionary force must bypass our capital city entirely to prevent civilian panic. Furthermore, your requisition of our shipyards must be capped at sixty percent capacity. Our merchant fleets require the remaining docks to maintain our internal economy.”

Elian considered the conditions.

Red had given him a very specific set of primary objectives. He only cared about securing a legal naval staging ground and an unimpeded path to obliterate the Fourth Continent. The specific routing of the ground troops and the exact percentage of shipyard usage fell entirely under trivial mortal logistics.

As long as the core mandate was secured, any extra concessions Elian extracted simply served as a bonus for the Vanguard’s war machine.

“We will accept a seventy-five percent requisition of your shipyards,” Elian countered in a flat, commanding tone. “Our armies will bypass your capital by exactly fifty miles. Your empire will supply the necessary alchemical grain to fund that detour. Additionally, Vanguard commanders retain absolute authority over all heavy artillery placements during any joint operations.”

Cassian swallowed hard. The counter-offer slightly cushioned the blow to his empire’s pride while still handing the Vanguard overwhelming control over the eastern front. He looked at the heavy ink on the parchment and then glanced at the unyielding faces of the human, the Troglodyte, the Kobold, and the Grey-Fin elder.

He was reluctant, but he had no other choice. Just like how Red had given Elian a task and rest was up to him, the Iron Arbiter had done the same, but he was strict.

Cassian gripped the quill tightly, and this time, he signed his name at the bottom of the parchment.

Elder Syra stepped forward to roll up the heavy scroll. She sealed it with glowing alchemical wax bearing the spiral insignia. The global server had officially connected with the Seventeenth Continent, and the Vanguard now possessed a clear path to war.

[ Access to the Second Continent secured! ]

[ You have formed an alliance with the RANK 19 – THE IRON ARBITER ]

Red glanced at the notification as he played with Glich. “With this, I have taken the first step to my revenge.”

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