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Hurman calmly waited. His neutral smile held out while he looked around at the two others approaching the conversation. First, Hurman looked to Hurdo, who smiled and nodded. Next, Hurman gave a subtle glance and nod to the drake.

Understanding the situation, Oli telepathically replied, ‘If Vloz and my clan are behind this, then I fully agree.’

A full minute passed before Lambier and Marsel shook off their self-mocking laughs, put on a determined expression, and dropped to one knee in front of Hurman.

“We humbly ask for Iron’s response,” they spoke in perfect synchronization.

Accepting the customary kneel, despite being in the middle of nowhere, Hurman replied, “At this moment, I don’t speak as the patriarch of an Iron Territory patrician clan. I speak as a direct subordinate of Iron and as a permission-given proxy of my superiors. Iron Territory is glad to support and sponsor the re-establishment of the Flaming Gale Guild the moment Prodson Territory falls.

“Iron Territory will fund your buildings, which will appear in every city governed by Iron, either through direct governance or through a vassal territory. And Flaming Gale shall become one of the cornerstone establishments and organizations of Iron Territory, so long as Flaming Gale continues to support Iron through its services and influence.”

Lambier and Marsel let loose the breath they’d been holding in.

“... Rise.” Hurman chuckled to ease the weight of the moment, “Trust me. I’ve committed my all to Iron. And I have no regrets.”

.....

That statement lingered in the mercenary duo’s ears for an extra moment.

After his brief pause, Hurman continued, “The will of Iron won’t break. It won’t bend. Now that you’ve become a part of Iron, the same will be said for you. So long as you don’t bend or break, Iron will support you and carry you to new heights along with Iron’s rise.”

“Well said!” Hurdo bellowed and drummed on his chest.

The drake nodded subtly in the background, proud to hear those words.

Accepting that resolve, Lambier opened his mouth to shout his reply. But Marsel beat him to it, yelling, “Iron will never break!”

“Iron will never bend!” Lambier shouted half a breath later, quickly adjusting to coalign with his partner’s reply.

With a satisfied smile, Hurman bowed his head to them. “Congratulations. This also means your family is officially a patrician clan. And I believe it’s well deserved from your cultivations alone, not to mention your new services as the leaders of Iron’s mercenary force.”

As Ceela and Opal came running over, Hurman waved and left. Hurman redirected his attention to Tranton, Reuben Motts, and the surviving mercenaries from Forell City.

Opal rushed in to put her husband in a headlock, embracing him tightly, “You did it! You finally agreed!”

“It’s about time…” Ceela sighed, standing beside Lambier. Light essence moved from Ceela’s hands into her husband’s body.

A tender and somewhat regretful smile appeared on Lambier’s face. “I’m sorry to worry you, Cee…”

“There’s no need to apologize. You know that!” Ceela scolded her husband. “I’m glad you didn’t let that rat escape! And I’m glad you stood your ground and challenged him how you did!

“I was talking about Iron’s offer…”

Lambier saw the astonishingly-proud look in Ceela’s eyes, taken aback. “... Ceela?”

Sighing, Ceela said, ” We’ve lived in Iron Town for two years. We’ve taken well-paying jobs the entire time. And for everything we’ve done, they’ve continued to offer us more. It’s only logical for them to offer us noble status and sponsorship for the guild! … I still think you should’ve taken the offer sooner.”

“Ceela, honey, I get that. But it’s a hard decision to include another man and his family in our business. They wanted Jonon Practor as a fellow founder…” Lambier stated. “That’s a lot to ask for– Ow!”

Pinching his arm, Ceela tilted her head down while looking up at her husband. “Oh really? Well, if you had accepted the offer a year ago, would you have needed Hurman and Hurdo to kill Ranon and Dallad?”

“I-I…” Lambier had no way to answer how he wished. So he kept quiet for a moment and let that question hang in the air for a moment.

“So you think so too?”

That question redirected both Lambier’s and Ceela’s attention to Marsel, who had flipped Opal over and was currently sitting on top of her. But Marsel’s eyes were filled with longing and regret, not focused on wrestling his wife.

Marsel sighed, “My little sis is right. We moved to Iron Territory around the same time as Hurman. But we’re still only mid-perennials while Hurman leaped from peak-elder to mid-perennial. And from the look of his fight, I’d guess he’ll be a high-perennial before the next equinox.

“If we had committed to Iron sooner, not even when Hurman had but when they made the offer, then… I think Ranon and Dallad wouldn’t have been a fair fight. I think we would’ve slaughtered before their escape was an option.

“And you think so too, don’t you, Lam?”

Closing his eyes and clenching the muscles of his face, Lambier nodded, slightly. “... If only Iron Territory existed back then. Maybe our old men would’ve finally agreed to get of Prodson.”

“There’s no use complaining over spilled wine!” Opal shouted, rolling her husband over and putting him in an arm bar. “So if you got tears, let ’em out now before we get down to business!”

“Ahh…” Marsel grunted with a hint of laughter. His free hand pounded the ground over and over. “I give! I give!”

Letting Marsel free, Opal hopped onto his chest and leaned in to give him a quick kiss. “There. Do you feel better now?”

“... I do. A lot better. Thanks, Opal!” Marsel proudly pushed her back a little and sat up, kissing her back.

But before Marsel could try to get a good hold of her, Opal broke the kiss and got up. “Then let’s get moving! We need to hurry back to Forell City to inform the others. If you’re still in the mood after all that, then we’ll continue this in our room.”

Marsel nodded and chased after his wife with a beaming grin.

Ceela chuckled and clung to Lambier’s arm. “She’s right, you know. We might not get any sleep tonight.”

“Maybe not… But we do have two more days off. Unless there’s an emergency, maybe we won’t get much sleep tomorrow night either,” Lambier stated, giving Ceela a mischievous smile.

Laughing some more, Ceela kept holding his arm and pulled him away. They followed Marsel and Opal toward the newly lit fire. There, the scent of freshly cooked meat aroused everyone’s appetites after their hard-fought battle.

The only person not around the fire was the Mottz Patriarch. He knelt on the ground a couple of dozen krin from the camp. In front of him, a white sheet had been laid out. And atop that sheet rested a woman’s corpse.

Clinging to the woman’s hand, Reuben knelt in silence.

He didn’t hear the chatter around the fire. He didn’t notice the smell of fire-roasted pork. He didn’t catch a whiff of the freshly-opened wine kegs.

Reuben only saw his wife. And her bloodstained dress.

“... Excuse me. May I approach?”

Recognizing that voice, Reuben opened his mouth. But words failed to take form. So Reuben closed his lips and gave a single nod instead.

The footsteps continued, now registering in Reuben’s mind as quite close. Yet he didn’t look away from his wife. Reuben let the man come and kneel beside him without a single glance or word.

Inhaling slowly, Hurman folded his arms and bowed his head to the deceased. “I wish we had arrived sooner.”

Hurman didn’t make any excuses or apologize in any way. Hurman simply stated his wish and respectfully bowed. Then, a few minutes of silence passed. Both Hurman and Reuben knelt in peace and tranquility, aside from the pain tormenting Reuben’s heart and mind.

“... She had nothing to do with this…”

Glancing at the Mottz Patriarch, Hurman didn’t reply.

“... We had nothing to do with this…” Reuben’s broken voice finally managed to speak, “Sure. Our business had been declining. And Leader Tranton wasn’t exactly supportive of mercenary work… But Leader Tranton never directly impeded us either. He just… didn’t hire us. When at least half of our business used to come from Rhyner Trighton in the past.

“... I never wished or dreamed of targeting Leader Tranton in any way. And yet… when I, the family patriarch get roped into this mess, it’s her… It’s her that has to suffer the consequences. While some of the assassins escaped all consequences!”

Hurman remained calm. He wore a small yet caring smile. And he listened.

Reuben’s sorrow flipped into rage as he shouted, “It’s their fault! They should pay with their lives! I should be dead! NOT HER!! … Not Her! ... She shouldn’t be dead! She should’ve never been involved…”