"I won’t bore you with so long speech," Ludwig said, his voice echoed in the area where only the crackling of the bonfire could be heard.
The words didn’t need to be loud; the Safe Lands had gone quiet on their own. A mont ago, this place had been all mugs and at and laughter.
Now the fire sounded like it had teeth, fat popping, wood settling, sparks snapping into the night air.
Faces turned toward him from every angle: ogres with heavy brows and heavier hands, goblins half-hidden behind cups they’d stopped drinking from, a troll’s silhouette hunched near the edge of the light, and scattered orcs who looked like they were deciding whether this was going to be a speech or a challenge.
Ludwig kept his shoulders square and his posture relaxed on purpose. If he looked like he was pleading, they’d sll weakness. If he looked like he was commanding, they’d bristle. He needed them listening, really listening, before he asked them for anything.
"I’m soone who hasn’t even sat down in this place yet and beca king. I’m sure a bunch of you don’t even think I deserve it, which is sothing I understand."
He didn’t soften the admission with excuses. He didn’t bla the Tower. He didn’t point at the elders.
He let the doubt exist in the open, because that stole its power. A few jaws tightened anyway, especially among the ogres who had been chanting "KING" earlier. Others looked away, caught between agreent and discomfort.
Gale looked at Ludwig in a smiling manner. For soone who used to be king, he knew, it was best to speak of your shortcomings first, and make it clear that you understand your audience’s position before you propose change.
Ludwig felt Gale’s approval like a hand on the back of his neck. Not warmth, Gale didn’t do warmth, but recognition. A king didn’t win people by pretending he was perfect. A king won them by proving he wasn’t blind to what they were thinking.
"If need be, I don’t mind fighting all by myself. I wouldn’t mind battling the entire orc tribe alone without help or assistance. I’ve been doing it all my life anyway." Ludwig looked at everyone around him in the eyes for a bit.
He let his gaze travel slowly, eting eyes long enough to register them, not long enough to provoke. He saw skepticism. He saw hope. He saw the lazy comfort of people who wanted to go back to eating. He also saw fear tucked behind bravado, because even here, behind blue fire and rules, everyone knew what it ant when soone said a thousand red orcs were coming.
"I’m not here to take away your small joy, your freedom, or your right of doing...whatever it is you’re doing right now," Ludwig said as he drank from the horn.
The ad was still strong. It burned, it ward, it tried to seduce his living body into relaxing. Ludwig swallowed anyway. Refusing would have made him look sanctimonious. Drinking made him look like he wasn’t above them, like he could stand in their circle without pretending he was made of different blood.
He lowered the horn without wiping his mouth, as if even that small gesture would be too careful.
"However,"
He let the word sit there without stretching it into theater. Not a pause for drama, just the natural hinge where honesty stopped being easy.
’Here it cos,’ Gale thought as he, too, seed interested in what Ludwig was going to say.
Ludwig could almost feel the settlent lean forward in unison. Even those who hated speeches knew what "however" ant: the price, the condition, the knife hidden behind the handshake.
"If any of you are willing to fight with , to stop the Red King, then I’ll take you in as comrades and friends. I’m sure that no one here would dare call himself a coward. I’m sure most of you have seen your share of blood and battle..." he looked up, "But, there is life outside this tower, outside this floor, outside these structured walls. And I received revelation in that regard."
He didn’t say "I’ll make you rich." He didn’t say "I’ll reward you." Those were noble promises, and noble promises rotted. He offered sothing simpler: belonging without humiliation, purpose without being used like fodder. He watched that land differently on different faces, on orcs it sparked, on goblins it unsettled, on ogres it provoked suspicion.
"Revelation?" Damra interrupted.
Damra’s voice carried in a way that didn’t require shouting. He stepped forward just enough to remind everyone that even if Ludwig was "king," the Safe Lands still revolved around Damra’s gravity.
Ludwig didn’t find it rude that he was interrupted; in fact, he welcod it.
A question from Damra ant the crowd could latch onto sothing concrete. Ludwig didn’t want them drifting into vague fear or vague hope. He wanted their minds pinned to specifics.
"Yes, a promise, that if the Red King is slain, you shall have right, the sa as other climbers, to climb higher. A chance to leave this accursed place. Not to be bound to an eternal fighting cycle among each other. But a chance at real life."
He chose his words carefully. Right. Not "gift." Not "rcy." A right implied the Tower could no longer pretend these denizens were props. It implied the floor could beco a doorway instead of a prison cell with better food.
Damra imdiately turned to the elders.
The movent wasn’t subtle; he didn’t want responsibility for believing a stranger’s promise. He wanted the elders to carry the weight of confirming it.
The three of them all nodded, and the female elder spoke, "He spoke no lies so far."
The endorsent hit the settlent harder than Ludwig’s horns had. You could argue with Ludwig. You didn’t argue with that woman unless you wanted to start a civil war at a bonfire.
The rest of the people around all began murmuring among each other.
Not celebration, calculation. Ludwig heard it in the tone. The sound of people testing the idea with their tongues like a new food: is it safe, is it poison...
Is it worth it?
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