… I could only sigh at this development. My goal in battling Silver's sons was to gain the recognition of the beastkin leaders not only as a diplomat but as fierce youth worthy of their respect. In my eagerness, I overshot the goal, scaring them instead. What a blunder.
Rajah and Skarn were more than right to fear me. Not only did I have brighter future prospects than any mortal did, but I also harbored the goal of conquering this continent. If I signed a non-aggression pact with them, I couldn't follow my goals.
Well, at least not for the next thousand years. The strongest non-elves lived for about a thousand years, hence the duration these two demanded. They basically demanded I not attack them in my entire life. This told me that in their eyes, I was a mortal, even if they didn't understand exactly what I was.
One might wonder why I would not just sign a treaty as Devil and then drop the alias when the time came, letting me conquer them as Quinlan, Black the noble, or with another name I give myself. I doubted they were dumb enough to accept the word of a masked man. But just to make sure, I asked for clarification, "How exactly would you like me to sign this pact if I were to agree?"
Skarn didn't hesitate for a single moment when he replied, "I don't care about any promises you make on the Goddess' graces, neither do I trust binding artifacts or magic to hold a creature like you restrained for long. I'm a simple man who has survived all this while by trusting his instincts. Remove your mask and swear a blood oath on the well-being of everyone you hold dear while staring us right in the eye. If I feel a shred of deception, I'll attack."
"Swear it, Devil. Take the damned oath." It was none other than Maelstrom who ordered me to do so.
He didn't understand why they were so scared of my potential, but what he knew was that me making such a promise was a given. If I failed to do so, any possible relationship between the Consortium and the Beastman Confederation would be ruined.
If he had to offer me up to them on a silver platter as a hostage to ensure the deal was signed, he would be happy to do so. I was just a disposable pawn to him. Perhaps if I was his Phenom he would care more, but as I was sponsored by Black Fang, he couldn't care less about my well-being.
I asked wryly, wracking my brain for a way to weasel my way out of this situation. I didn't consider myself a good enough liar to promise such a thing without these mighty beings getting a sense of deception being at play.
Even my earlier lie about Veyrin's soul being safe was not wholly believed by them, I could tell by their scrutinizing eyes. They just couldn't refute my claim as they knew nothing of the soul. However, in this case, they didn't need to think hard. If they felt I was lying, they didn't need to prove I was lying. They would just attack, as simple as that.
Ayame sighed with defeat.
Seraphiel purred in my mind, doing her utmost to make me see logic.
Kitsara didn't favor my bombshell of an elven healer's words.
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