Chapter 321: Lin Ruoli’s Meeting

The fallout from the dwarven betrayal left a bitter taste in the air of the Jorailian pavilion. The blatant display of superstitious folly had been a galling insult, but for Alaric, it was merely a change in logistics. The dwarves were no longer a potential ally to be courted, but a resource to be harvested at a later, more convenient time. The game moved on.

It was Ondine, overseeing the complex web of their delegation’s external affairs, who first received the overture. It arrived not via a common runner, but delivered by a silent, deferential servant from the Celestial Dragon Empire’s own retinue. The scroll itself was a work of art. It was bound with rollers of polished, cool jade, the paper a sheet of fine, cream-colored silk that felt impossibly smooth to the touch. The calligraphy was not the blocky, official script of the Imperial court, but a flowing, elegant hand that was both beautiful and assertive.

It was a formal, exquisitely written request for a trade meeting from the Jade Serpent Merchant Guild.

Ondine’s perfectly sculpted eyebrows rose in genuine surprise. She knew the name, of course. Anyone with even a cursory understanding of global economics knew the Jade Serpent Guild. They were one of the absolute top-tier merchant guilds of the Dragon Empire, a behemoth of commerce whose influence was second only to the Emperor’s direct decree.

She brought the scroll to Priscilla, who was in the pavilion’s small, temporary library, cross-referencing ancient Elven texts on soul-binding curses.

“This,” Ondine said, laying the scroll on the table, “is… unusual.”

Priscilla looked up, her violet eyes scanning the elegant script. A low whistle of surprise escaped her lips. “Unusual is an understatement. The Jade Serpent Guild? They are notoriously insular. They trade almost exclusively with the eastern kingdoms and the Kensei Shogunate. For them to initiate contact with a western kingdom, especially one as new and… disruptive… as ours… it’s practically unheard of.”

“Exactly,” Ondine agreed, her sharp, political mind already sifting through a dozen potential motives. “Guilds of that stature rarely make a move unless there is a clear, massive, and undeniable advantage for them. They do not take risks. They do not engage in idle pleasantries.”

She paced the small library, the silk of her gown whispering against the stone floor. “This could be an opportunity. A chance to bring one of the major guilds of the Celestial Dragon Empire under our influence, or at the very least, into a mutually beneficial partnership. It could be a foothold in the east.”

“Or it could be a trap,” Priscilla countered, her voice a low, cautious murmur. “A beautifully decorated, silken trap, laid at the behest of the Dragon Emperor himself.”

Ondine stopped pacing, a slow, calculating smile touching her lips. “Trap or opportunity, my dear Priscilla, it is a game I am more than willing to play. I will handle this meeting myself.”

She looked at the signature at the bottom of the scroll. Lin Ruoli. Guildmaster.

“What could she possibly want from us,” Ondine mused, her voice a soft, intrigued whisper, “that a guild of her power and influence can’t get elsewhere?”

In her own opulent pavilion, a masterpiece of carved sandalwood and flowing silk, Lin Ruoli prepared for the meeting. The process was a ritual, a careful construction of the perfect mask. Her gown of deep, sapphire-blue silk was chosen to project an image of serene confidence and untouchable elegance. Her hair was a glossy black river, held in place by a single, intricately carved jade pin that had cost more than a small farm.

She sat before a polished bronze mirror, her hands steady as she applied the final touches of her makeup. But her mind was a storm of cold, calculated resolve and a deep, gnawing terror.

’The Emperor’s command is absolute,’ she thought, her reflection staring back at her, the eyes of the woman in the mirror looking like those of a beautiful, caged stranger. ’I will go to them. I will weave this golden cage, this web of dependency and obligation. I will smile. I will offer gifts that will seem too good to be true, because they are. And I will bind this upstart kingdom in silken chains.’

She took a deep, steadying breath, the scent of jasmine and fear filling her lungs.

’I will do this. And I will survive.’

The meeting took place in a private, elegant chamber within the Jorailian pavilion. The room was a tasteful blend of human comfort and Elven aesthetics, with comfortable, high-backed chairs, a polished oak table, and walls hung with tapestries depicting serene, magical landscapes.

Ondine was already there, seated at the head of the table, a picture of calm, regal authority. Priscilla and Zylle stood behind her, silent, beautiful sentinels of immense power.

When Lin Ruoli entered, the three women of the Jorailian delegation were genuinely impressed. She was not just beautiful; she was a vision of stunning, professional grace. She moved with a liquid elegance, her smile warm and genuine, her eyes sharp and intelligent. She radiated an aura of confidence and competence that was impossible to fake.

But it was Lin Ruoli who was truly taken aback.

She had expected a barbarian queen, a provincial noblewoman playing at power. The woman before her was anything but. Ondine possessed a natural, effortless authority, a grace and intelligence that was the equal of any royal in the Celestial Dragon Empire. And the two women behind her… Lin Ruoli’s finely honed senses, accustomed to assessing power in all its forms, screamed at her. The blonde one, Priscilla, was a well of arcane knowledge so deep it felt like staring into the abyss. The raven-haired one, Zylle, was a void, a perfect, silent shadow that radiated an aura of absolute, terrifying lethality.

’These are not the simple westerners the court spoke of,’ Lin Ruoli thought, her own carefully constructed composure faltering for a fraction of a second. ’This is a true power.’

The two women, one a queen by birth, the other a queen of commerce, engaged in a masterful verbal dance. It began with polite pleasantries, a witty, intelligent exchange of compliments and observations that was, in reality, a sharp, probing assessment of each other’s strengths and weaknesses.

Then, Lin Ruoli laid her cards on the table. And the offer was so staggering, so utterly, unbelievably generous, that it sucked the very air from the room.

She did not offer silks or spices. She offered the very soul of the Dragon Empire’s martial might.

“My guild,” Lin Ruoli began, her voice a smooth, silken purr, “wishes to form a deep, cooperative, and long-term relationship with the Jorailian Kingdom. We have observed your… unique… technological assets. They are, to be blunt, the future of warfare and industry. My guild wishes to be your exclusive partner in the east.”

Ondine simply listened, her expression unreadable.

“To show our good faith,” Lin Ruoli continued, her gaze steady, her smile unwavering, “to build a foundation of trust for this long-term partnership, we are prepared to offer something of equal, unique value. A trade of secrets. Our most valuable secrets.”

She opened a lacquered wooden box she had brought with her. Inside, resting on beds of black velvet, were a series of ancient, silk-bound scrolls.

“We offer you the core of our martial strength,” she declared, her voice a low, shocking pronouncement. “The complete, unabridged techniques for the cultivation of a warrior’s Battle Aura. The advanced, and deeply secret, methods for refining that aura into true Qi. And… the theoretical framework, the foundational knowledge, for using that Qi to form a warrior’s Domain.”

Priscilla’s eyes widened, a flicker of genuine, academic shock on her beautiful face. Zylle’s posture, which had been one of relaxed, predatory stillness, shifted almost imperceptibly. This was not a trade offer; this was the keys to an empire.

“We will provide you with the techniques to accelerate the growth of a Martialist,” Lin Ruoli added, “to help them break through the bottlenecks that plague western warriors. We offer you the path to creating your own Martial Kings.”

The offer was so audacious, so unbelievably generous, that it could only be one of two things: a lie, or a trap of unprecedented scale.

Ondine, her mind racing, maintained her regal composure. “A most… generous… offer, Guildmaster Lin Ruoli,” she said, her voice a smooth, silken purr that belied the frantic calculations going on in her mind. “And in return for these… imperial treasures… what would the Jade Serpent Guild ask of us?”

“Knowledge for knowledge,” Lin Ruoli replied instantly, her voice crisp and professional. “We do not wish to purchase your artifacts. We wish to purchase the knowledge to create them. We ask for the complete schematics, the runic matrices, the alchemical formulas, for three of your core technologies: your personal energy shields, your long-range communication devices, and the basic model of your Steele-tech energy rifle.”

It was a massive demand. But it was, on the surface, a fair one. A trade of the core secrets of two different, but equally powerful, philosophies of power.

But Ondine was no fool. The hook was still hidden, but she could feel its presence, a sharp, cold thing beneath the beautiful, silken bait.

“Your offer is… compelling,” she said, her voice a low, thoughtful murmur. “But you must forgive my curiosity, Guildmaster. These techniques… they are the foundation of your Emperor’s military might. Why would he permit you to trade them? Why to us, a small, upstart kingdom in the west? Why now?”

Lin Ruoli’s smile never faltered. Her eyes, however, held a flicker of something… a deep, caged sadness, a profound weariness that was at odds with her perfect, confident mask.

“My guild simply sees a burgeoning market in your industrious kingdom, Your Majesty,” she said, her voice a flawless, rehearsed purr. “A kingdom with such… unique technological assets deserves the finest comforts the world has to offer, and the most powerful allies. The Emperor understands that the future is a river that flows in many directions. To try and dam it is… foolish.”

’She’s brilliant,’ Ondine thought, her admiration for the woman across the table growing. ’Her words are flawless, her smile is enchanting. She doesn’t feel to be making this negotiation with us freely of her own will. She is a beautiful, gilded weapon, aimed directly at us.’

Just as the conversation reached this delicate, dangerous precipice, the great doors to the chamber swung open.

Without a sound. Without an announcement.

Alaric entered.

He wasn’t striding, or marching. He simply walked in, his presence a casual, almost lazy thing that immediately, utterly, and completely dominated the room. The delicate, high-stakes balance of power that had been established between the two powerful women shattered like glass. The energy in the room, which had been a sharp, focused thing, now swirled around him, a chaotic, powerful vortex.

Ondine, who had been the master of the situation, immediately, unconsciously, relaxed, her posture shifting from that of a ruling monarch to that of a consort in the presence of her king.

She rose gracefully. “My Lord,” she said, her voice a warm, melodic purr. “You are just in time. Allow me to introduce you to the Guildmaster of the esteemed Jade Serpent Merchant Guild, the Lady Lin Ruoli.”

Alaric’s ruby eyes, which had been filled with a lazy, almost bored amusement, swept over Lin Ruoli. And in that single, lingering gaze, she felt herself being appraised, analyzed, and consumed.

His eyes took in her stunning beauty, her sharp intelligence, the subtle, defiant strength in her posture. And then, his gaze dropped, shamelessly, possessively, lingering for a long, hot moment on the magnificent, full swell of her breasts, the “large globes of flesh” that were so artfully, yet so obviously, displayed by the cut of her gown.

A slow, deeply intrigued, and utterly predatory smile spread across his handsome face. He had to consciously restrain the sudden, primal urge to simply walk over, tear the beautiful sapphire silk from her body, and take her right there on the polished oak table.

“Guildmaster Lin Ruoli,” he purred, his voice a low, charming rumble that was both a caress and a threat. “A distinct pleasure. I’ve heard… interesting things about the Jade Serpent Guild.”

He glanced at Ondine, a wicked, proprietary glint in his eyes. “It seems my Queen has found a new, and very beautiful, playmate.”

The tone was light, charming, almost playful. But the gaze… the gaze was intense, analytical, and filled with a raw, possessive hunger that made the blood freeze in Lin Ruoli’s veins.

’Gods…’ she thought, her own carefully constructed mask of confidence crumbling into a fine, terrified dust. ’This is him. The firefly the Emperor spoke of. But he is no mere firefly… he is a young, hungry dragon.’

She had felt the weight of the Emperor’s gaze, the cold, ancient, possessive power of a being who saw the world as his personal hoard. But this… this was different. This was worse.

’He is looking at me,’ she thought, a wave of pure, primal terror washing over her, ’even more possessively and lustfully and arrogantly than the Emperor himself.’

The Emperor was a force of nature. This man… this Alaric Steele… was a predator. And he was looking at her like she was his next meal.

Alaric’s smile widened. He had seen the flicker of terror in her eyes. He had seen the caged bird beating its wings against the bars of her perfect, professional facade. And he had made his decision.

The complex, long-term political game of weaving a golden cage… it was far too slow. Far too boring. He preferred a more… direct… approach.

He looked at Ondine, then at Priscilla, then at Zylle. He didn’t speak a word. He didn’t have to. He simply gave a slight, almost imperceptible nod, a gesture so subtle it was almost a thought.

His meaning was perfectly, terrifyingly clear.

Close the doors. Seal the room. This one… is staying for the night.

Ondine gave a slight, almost resigned, nod of her own. Priscilla’s expression didn’t change, but the ambient magical energy in the room shifted, coalescing into an invisible, unbreakable barrier around the chamber.

And Zylle… Zylle simply melted back into the shadows near the door, a silent, deadly promise that there would be no escape.

Lin Ruoli felt the trap snap shut. The air in the room grew thick, heavy, the polite meeting chamber transforming, in an instant, into a gilded cage.

Alaric’s smile was the last thing she saw clearly, a beautiful, terrifying expression full of dark, possessive promise. He had found his entertainment for the night.