Chương 377: 377： I Couldn't Care Less About Your Pathetic Chips!

The atmosphere inside the command post instantly thickened. All masks of polite diplomacy were cast aside. The true political clash—a high-stakes gamble of blood and ambition—had officially begun! Soren leaned forward slightly, resting his chin on his steepled fingers. A glimmer of genuine amusement flashed in his eyes. The Holy Halycon Empire hadn't sent some silver-tongued civil official skilled in spewing empty flattery.

Instead, they had dispatched Alaric—Commander of the Royal Griffon Knights, son of the Grand Duke, and heir to the Empire's Northern Defense Command—to deliver the message in person. Sending someone of this caliber… The Emperor isn't just showing respect. He's desperate for me, Soren analyzed silently.

"Oh? Substantial intentions?" Soren's voice was cool and measured.

"Then by all means, Commander Alaric, let's hear it. What exactly does your Emperor want from my desolate little backwater?" Facing Soren's oppressive scrutiny, Alaric didn't hold back. He planted his hands firmly on the desk, leaning in to meet Soren's gaze.

"Lord Soren, you are a peerless military genius. With the blinding brilliance you displayed in this campaign, the narrow, suffocating confines of the Silvermoon Kingdom are no longer worthy of your greatness!" Alaric dropped the hammer:"On behalf of His Imperial Majesty, I formally ask you: Are you willing to lead your formidable forces here in Greywater Town, break away from the Silvermoon Kingdom and the Crimson Moon Knights, and pledge your absolute loyalty to the Holy Halycon Empire?"

The moment those words left his mouth, Lyra, standing silently behind Soren, subconsciously rested her hand on the throwing knives at her waist. Such a brazen attempt to incite treason in a frontline commander was a severe transgression. If word of this got out, it would be grounds for immediate, all-out war between the two nations! Yet, deep down, Soren only sneered. Offer up my territory to serve your Emperor? Put a collar around my own neck to be someone else's attack dog?

He was a commander bound to the [Warlord System]. He possessed era-defining special tactics. His ultimate ambition was to conquer the continent of Aerethia with his ideology, shattering the chains of class oppression. His goal was the utter eradication of the old world's rotting monarchies! To ask him to abandon this foundation—a territory built with his own blood and sweat to forge true equality—just to bow before some aloof Emperor? It was nothing short of a delusional fantasy! But Soren was a master of control.

Not a single trace of offense or anger leaked onto his face. Instead, he maintained his composure, casually leaning back into his chair as if he were genuinely weighing the proposal.

"Break away from Silvermoon and defect to Halycon?" Soren mused, his tone playful.

"That is no small matter, Alaric. If this is a recruitment pitch, what exactly is the Holy Halycon Empire offering to buy my life, and the lives of the thousands of brothers under my command?" Seeing that Soren didn't immediately reject him in a fit of rage and was actually asking for terms, Alaric was overjoyed. He mistakenly assumed that Soren had been thoroughly alienated by the cold-blooded abandonment of the Silvermoon capital and was actively seeking a better master.

"Lord Soren, as long as you nod your head, the promises His Majesty brings are unprecedented in all of human history!" Terrified of missing this golden window, Alaric laid bare the Emperor's terms without a shred of hesitation.

"Let us start with the material conditions!" Alaric waved his hand grandly, throwing out massive logistical bait.

"The moment you agree and raise the Imperial banner, the Holy Halycon Empire will open its royal treasury. We will completely cover every single agonizing expense required to maintain the Greywater Town forces!"

"Whether it's top-tier magical enchantments for your weapons, the massive costs of upgrading heavy armor, or the staggering annual supplies and stipends required for your entire army! We will even provide unlimited quotas for high-quality troop reinforcements for your future expansions. The Empire will throw its full weight behind you, completely eliminating the logistical nightmare of defending a remote border!" Soren listened, his face an unreadable mask.

Under that piercing gaze, Alaric took a deep breath, finally drawing the trump card of this negotiation! He aimed directly at what he perceived as Soren's deepest grievance:"Lord Soren! In this campaign, you achieved the impossible—annihilating the Orc Alliance's vanguard and sniping their Supreme Warchief!"

"An accomplishment of this magnitude, one capable of elevating you to godhood in this dark age, would grant you the status of a savior in any other nation!"

"But look at how those repulsive, corrupt nobles in the Silvermoon capital treat you! They fear you. They suppress you. Despite your monumental deeds, you are still nothing but a lowly Vice-Commander of the Crimson Moon Knights! You hold the hollow, powerless title of a Border Deputy Envoy!" Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere. Alaric's tone grew incredibly zealous.

"But our Halycon Empire is different! His Majesty promises that the very moment you step onto Imperial soil, you will immediately be appointed as the Supreme Commander of a hundred-thousand-strong main Imperial Legion! Furthermore, you will be instantly titled a Marquis, granted vast, resource-rich fiefdoms!" Not stopping there, Alaric's words spilled out faster and faster.

"And your core forces—the current army of Greywater Town—will be directly restructured into an Independent Royal Imperial Legion, answering only to the throne, with an authorized strength of up to fifty thousand men!"

"Every single veteran officer who bled by your side will receive an immediate double promotion in rank, securing them immense power and boundless wealth!" By now, Alaric was trembling with excitement. Gripping the edges of the desk, his eyes wide, he dropped a promise that would have shattered the sanity of any ordinary man:"And this is His Majesty's deepest expectation of you!"

"As long as you serve the Empire, Lord Soren, and continue to accumulate military merits with your world-shaking tactics... the Empire will shred its ancient traditions. You will be granted the privilege of limitless promotion!"

"In the future, His Majesty will personally elevate you above all Dukes and high nobility. You will be crowned a [Prince of the Realm]!"

"Within the boundless borders of the Holy Halycon Empire, your authority will be absolute! Second only to the Emperor himself!" To prove these weren't empty words, Alaric declared loudly:"And as a deposit, on top of the titles, the Empire will issue you an immediate, one-time reward of one hundred thousand pure gold coins! The day you arrive at the Imperial Capital, His Majesty will personally host the grandest investiture ceremony in recorded history for you!" A Marquis with actual territory.

Supreme Commander of a main legion. An Independent Royal Legion... And ultimately, the rank of [Prince of the Realm]—the absolute zenith of power for any human subject! Not to mention the staggering weight of all that pure gold! If these terms were offered to any conventional human general, they would lose their minds. They would instantly fall to their knees and kiss the Emperor's boots. Inside the command post, however, there was only an eerie, suffocating silence. There was no sharp intake of breath.

There were no tears of gratitude. Soren just sat there in silence. Deep in his heart, he felt absolutely nothing. Lacking logistical support and armor? Soren wanted to laugh. He possessed the continually operating [Geothermal Forge] capable of mass-producing [Dark Silver Armor]. His "standard issue" gear was already vastly superior to the Empire's heavily guarded "Royal" sets! Lacking military funds and supplies?

Greywater Town's warehouses were literally bursting at the seams with grain and dehydrated Swamp Tubers. They had enough to feed the entire territory for three years! Lacking troops and magical weapons? He held the System's newly rewarded [Armored War Elephants]—beasts capable of trampling magical monsters into paste. He possessed the formula for the [Intermediate Life Resuscitation Potion], an elixir that could drag a man back from the brink of death as long as he had a single breath left!

And he was currently decoding an actual [Forbidden Spell]! Any single one of these assets, pulled out at random, vastly outweighed the hollow political titles the Holy Halycon Empire was dangling in front of him! Nevertheless, looking at the eager Alaric, Soren couldn't help but offer a wry, almost lamenting smile.

"A Marquis... a hundred thousand gold coins... and a future Prince of the Realm..." Soren sighed softly.

"I have to admit, Alaric. To recruit a low-born commoner out of this remote swamp, your Emperor has truly been willing to bleed. It takes guts to offer terms like this." Just as Alaric thought this god of war had finally been moved, just as he reached into his coat to pull out the defection contract— Soren's tone sharpened like a drawn blade, slicing straight to the bloody core!

His eyes locked onto Alaric, and he threw down the explosive question he had kept buried in his chest:"The conditions are indeed flawless." Soren's voice was a dark, oppressive rumble.

"So, answer me honestly, Commander Alaric."

"Just days ago, when my Greywater Village was buried under a storm of arrows from ten thousand Centaurs. When twelve Wyverns circled overhead, ready to reduce us all to ash..."

"In our darkest hour, staring down utter annihilation, when over two thousand lives in this village were moments away from a total massacre!" Soren slammed his hands onto the desk, lunging forward like a predator:"You were stationed less than a day's ride away! The Halycon Northern Defense Command was right there! Your Royal Griffon Knights, boasting the absolute fastest aerial mobility in the realm..."

"Why were you ordered to hold your ground?! Why didn't a single Griffon take to the sky?! Why was there not even the slightest hint of military aid sent our way?!"