Chapter 454: Dinner Table Negotiation

CH454 Dinner Table Negotiation

***

After exchanging pleasantries, Alex and Azgrug did not speak further. Instead, Azgrug gestured for him to take a seat at the table and begin the meal.

The moment they sat, a group of youthful human females wheeled in carts laden with food, swiftly arranging trays across the long table.

When Alex requested milk and honey—or water—in place of the alcohol set before him, both the women and the orcs in the room looked at him oddly. Azgrug, however, merely raised a hand, signalling for the request to be fulfilled.

Alex inclined his head slightly in appreciation toward the orc seated opposite him.

Water from the oasis was brought to him, and only after that did the two begin to eat, while their respective retinues stood by the walls in silent observation.

The meal was entirely meat-based. Roasted bird, barbecued skewers, roasted meat thighs, grilled steak, and boiled meat broth—with only minimal seasoning and sparse vegetables.

Alex suddenly felt a wave of nostalgia.

He was reminded of the day he had first transmigrated into this life, when he had been dragged straight into a dinner with his father of this life—Earl Drake Fury.

A man who could only showed his affection through tough words and veiled actions, because that was the only way he knew how.

For someone who had been an orphan in his previous life, having a standup man like Drake Fury as his father in this one was something Alex remained deeply grateful for.

With that thought in mind, Alex ate with genuine relish.

Of course, the food before him could not compare to the richness of that first meal he had shared with his father. However, unlike back then, nothing now constrained him from eating his fill.

Taking a page from Earl Drake’s mannerisms that day, Alex ate with impeccable etiquette.

Even as he consumed plainly roasted and barbecued meat—so lightly seasoned that Fen would scarcely consider it food—even as the plates were chipped, the wine glasses cracked, and the table bore obvious signs of crude repair, none of it dampened Alex’s mood or diminished the image he projected.

The way he ate—calm, composed, and assured—was so captivating that even the orcs, who cared little for table etiquette, found themselves quietly entranced.

Even more unfathomable—and wholly unexpected—Alex matched Azgrug’s eating volume pound for pound.

In fact, anyone watching closely could tell that Alex was deliberately controlling how much he consumed. Had he not done so, he would have eaten more than Azgrug, which would have constituted a breach of etiquette.

For orcs, who held eating in high regard, a human capable of matching their clan chief bite for bite commanded far more respect than merely being the leader of the party that had killed Brieger, one of Camp Red Rock’s powerhouses.

Within half an hour, a full buffalo, a cockatrice, and several other beasts Alex couldn’t even identify were completely wiped off the table by the two of them.

For Azgrug, this was business as usual.

So, it was impossible for the other orcs in the room not to steal glances at Alex—quietly wondering where all that food was going.

Even Kavakan and Mogal, standing behind him, found themselves harbouring the same curiosity.

Alex nearly chuckled.

’Compared to what I used to eat per meal back at the Enclave—in volume and energy content—this isn’t actually all that much,’ he thought.

Thanks to his bloodline, Alex could eat enormous quantities when necessary. Bloating was never an issue; everything he consumed was digested in record time, converted efficiently into physical strength for his body and mana for his Mana Heart.

It was a broken ability Merlin had carefully fostered within him.

Fortunately, while his intake far exceeded that of an ordinary human, it remained manageable. His dietary needs were tied to total energy expenditure rather than simple satiety.

As long as he regularly meditated to replenish his Mana Heart, he wouldn’t need to eat like this every time.

The reason he went this far now was simple.

This was not merely a meal, but a test.

An orc test.

That was why Azgrug had invited him to eat without saying a word.

The dinner table itself was a battlefield of dominance.

By matching Azgrug’s volume, Alex gave the clan chief face within his own castle. At the same time, he made sure Azgrug—and every orc present—understood the implication.

He would be respectful, but he would likewise not allow anyone to look down upon him.

When the maids finished clearing the table, Azgrug’s gaze settled on the human youth across from him. After a brief pause, a small smile tugged at his lips.

"Very good," he said.

"It seems our Shaman was not wrong when he informed me that you possess a deep understanding of our culture. In that case, human sorcerer, let us speak as equals."

"Thank you. I would appreciate that, tribe chief," Alex replied.

He deliberately addressed Azgrug by his tribal title rather than his position as Camp Red Rock’s ruler, since they were adhering to orc custom.

That small courtesy pleased Azgrug once again.

"I have heard what transpired between you and Brieger," Azgrug continued. "While I should frown upon your actions—since they endangered the fragile order we have worked to maintain in this part of the Wildlands—I find that I cannot."

He paused, then admitted bluntly, "I respect the guts it took to do it."

Then, a subtle pressure descended on Alex.

"But now that you have... removed Brieger," Azgrug asked calmly, "what do you intend to do next?"

The pressure pressed down on Alex, testing him.

An ordinary mage at his level would have stiffened, maybe being unable to even speak. Alex suspected sorcerers of this world would also feel the same discomfort under the orc chief’s presence.

But he did not.

To him, it felt little more than a passing breeze.

"To be frank," Alex replied evenly, "I don’t care about Camp Red Rock. My party and I came here for trade—primarily to acquire resources that are difficult or impossible to obtain elsewhere. I would not have bothered with Brieger at all if he hadn’t crossed my bottom line."

"You expect me to believe that," Azgrug said, his gaze sharpening, "when you met with Rolfe and Bram immediately after?"

The pressure intensified.

This time, it was no longer subtle.

Kavakan and Mogal felt it. They instantly took up guarded stances, ready to strike back if it came to it.

Alex lifted a hand to calm them down without even looking back.

The two hulks of the expedition party reluctantly relaxed their stance.

Alex leaned back into his chair, interlocking his fingers atop his thighs, his posture relaxed to the point of provocation.

"If I intended to plot against you," he said casually, "you would never see it coming."

His crimson eyes met Azgrug’s without flinching.

"The fact that I held the meeting in your inn was intentional. It was my way of letting you know such a discussion would take place—a show of respect intended to proactively ease your concerns before they ever formed."

Azgrug stared at Alex for a long moment before finally nodding.

He withdrew his pressure and spoke evenly,

"Then you would have no reason not to tell me why Rolfe and Bram came looking for you."

Alex let out a slow chuckle. His left hand moved from his lap to the armrest, where he propped his chin lazily.

"There’s no need to pretend to be a concerned territorial lord," Alex replied. "You don’t care about nobodies like Rolfe and Bram. Why don’t you ask what you actually want to ask?"

Azgrug’s eyes flashed.

"Very well," the orc said. "Anyone with eyes can tell from your bearing and entourage that you are no ordinary individual. From Rolfe and Bram’s behaviour alone, I can already guess where you are from."

His gaze sharpened.

"You cannot blame me for growing... concerned when someone of your calibre suddenly appears in my territory."

"Understandable," Alex replied calmly.

"In that case," Azgrug continued, "let me ask you plainly. Why are you here?"

"I already told you. To trade for resour—"

"Don’t insult me with surface answers," Azgrug interrupted. "Why would someone of your calibre enter the Wildlands personally? Whatever resources you seek, your family’s influence should be more than enough to acquire them from the civilised world."

Alex’s expression cooled. The faint amusement vanished from his eyes.

"Then let me ask you something in return," Alex said quietly.

"Why is a peak Three-Star Combat Master—someone on the verge of becoming a Combat Saint—pretending to be a mere One-Star Combat Master, hiding in a backwater like this, when you could make a name for yourself in the civilised world?"

The room froze.

Azgrug’s pressure flared violently.

This time, Alex met it head-on.

His Bloodline pressure surged forth—cold, regal, and mad—colliding directly with Azgrug’s force, cancelling it out.

A ripple passed through the minds of the orcs lining the walls as disbelief spread across their faces.

A Gold-ranked sorcerer... had neutralised their tribe chief’s pressure.

Azgrug’s eyes narrowed—not in anger, but in surprise.

"You don’t want to reveal your reason," Alex said evenly. "That’s fine."

His crimson gaze locked onto Azgrug’s.

"But don’t ask others to reveal their secrets if you’re not prepared to bare your own."

A faint, cold smile curved his lips.

"That’s just proper etiquette."

***