Chapter 141

"You can't make that offer!" The council elder snapped.

"Then you'd better!" The commander snapped back. "I've fought the quagoa since the beginning! I've seen a lot of good dwarves die out there and we're," he paused, he took a deep breath, balled up his fists and turned purple in the face that wasn't covered by a beard, then he bellowed loud and hard, "losing!"

The council froze. The quiet, patient, steady commander was not done.

"We've been fighting for years, we've lost every city, every army, and every large battle. We're down to the last city and those few outposts far away on the fringes. That's it! Look at the dwarves in front of you! If the quagoa who can defeat us, fled this way too, what does that tell you about a demon emperor?! We've got nothing left! Nothing to bargain with! We need help and we have nothing but our loyalty to trade for it anymore!"

"We need to talk about this more…" The elder muttered, and the commander took the axe off of his back, hefting it in both hands, he walked between the lined chairs of his soldiers and the council instinctively drew back from the armored warrior's advance.

"No!" The commander shouted and slammed his ax down into the council table with enough force that it split and crashed down, stone on stone, to the floor below. "Enough talking! You've talked for years and what has it gotten us!" The commander bellowed out his frustration, with his broken warriors at his back, the rumble of discontent was clear. He leaned forward toward the council members and thrust one pointed finger behind him towards the visiting monarch.

"He's going to leave! He's going to take the runesmiths with him, he's the only one who knows what we're dealing with! I've been loyal to our people, to this council, for my entire life! Right down to today! But if you won't make a decision… I will make it for you." The commander hissed and seethed, and the council gasped.

The elder and those who held the reigns of power saw their control begin to slip away.

The commander watched as their eyes widened, but his dark, deep set eyes remained sharp and steady, they narrowed to the width of a blade as he spoke with the broken table and the axe between himself and the council. "All in favor of offering our Kingdom as a vassal to the visiting King and begging him to save our hairy dwarven asses… say aye."

The council members were quiet, very quiet. The heavy breathing of the weary dwarven soldiers was the only real noise in the great stone hall.

"Aye." The forgemaster mumbled. The others shot their eyes toward him at the far end. "We're alone here. We've got no help, everything we hear now tells us how well buggered we are if we do nothing. I've got my doubts, sure as anyone… but if we've got any kind of chance… it's this."

"You can't be…!" The elder glared down the linen at him.

"Oh blow it out your ass you old goat! We're in trouble! We're losing to the quagoa, the quagoa ran from the demon, what does that tell you about our chances against that demon alone?!" The commerce minister snapped. "Aye." He capped his complaint with the vote, and so it went.

The old councilor looked down at the shattered table, the axe embedded in the ancient stone floor that would leave a mark even when they replaced the table. The moment of the commander's outrage leaving a mark on their history that was truly indelible. The sacred stone held the axe fast.

"Aye." He finally added. The vote passes unanimously. Then one by one the council members descended to their knees save for the elder himself.

"Your Majesty, we offer ourselves to you as vassals, we only ask that you save the lives of your loyal subjects… p-protect us. Please." He said, and then descended to one knee as well and bowed his head.

Privately, Ainz could only thank his lucky stars that wearing the mask became routine. 'Wait… how did this happen?! Did they just… did I…? I was expecting just really good trade terms... They jump straight to offering themselves as a vassal state?!' Ainz could scarcely believe his ears or his eyes. The dwarves who led the dying nation were still shivering, their eyes went up to him and back down to the floor with regularity, their lips were licked by their quick, darting tongues. They glanced at one another several times in the interim, and only then did Ainz realize it. 'Oh, they're waiting for me to speak!' He realized and to buy time to frame his words, he began to walk slowly toward the kneeling rulers of the nation.

When he came within hand's reach he said to them, "I accept your fealty."

It wasn't a grandiose speech, but it had an electric effect on the dwarves who stiffened at once, then breathed deep sighs of relief.

"Will you summon your armies to help us, then?" The Forgemaster asked.

"No, I have another option." Ainz gave the cryptic reply, "And I expect the quagoa will come along shortly begging to surrender in exchange for their survival. Without runecraft armor they're no match for the demons of Jaldabaoth. So to begin with, your runesmiths will need to work constantly to prepare for the coming conflict. Jaldabaoth will be busy for some time, and while he is, you can work."

"Work…?" The Forgemaster asked.

"Yes, your runesmiths, everybody who has ever studied the craft will need to enchant everything they can against low karma beings, with holy magic, and whatever else they can. Even simple runes will do. Every apprentice who quit and every veteran of the craft… do or die. I can provide a few items that will let them work without the need for rest or sustenance, but your whole operation will have to be geared to equip every dwarf and even augment the quagoa themselves to fight. Work together or die together, those are your choices." The stark terms sent shivers over the dwarves who heard him.

In part because of the radical, even absurd suggestion that the quagoa would work with them, but nearly as much also because their 'new King' put so much significance on a craft the dwarves were ready to throw away.

But there was no arguing it now. They were committed, and they knew it.

There was no more time to ask questions of that sort however, because moments after Ainz spoke, the doors opened and various servants began to carry in food and beer as though there was going to be a celebration instead of simply a recovery.

Nobody took a drink or a bite, though they accepted both bowls and mugs, they one and all waited for Ainz to grant permission, their deep set eyes held up to the masked King's gaze. "Go ahead, eat, I have to see the runesmiths, it looks like it will be the last sleep they get for a good while, I hope it was restful." Ainz said sardonically, the dwarves gave nervous chuckles at the joke as he spun on his heel and made his way out of the council chamber with his caster robes fluttering behind his quick and steady steps.