Chapter 12: The Envoy's Greed

The arrival of the Lycanth envoy was marked by a procession of opulence and authority. The envoy, a tall figure draped in finery, made his way to the heart of Ebonwood, where Simha awaited, surrounded by his council of elders.

"**Lord Simha,**" the envoy began, his voice smooth as silk, "**I come on behalf of the Lycanth Kingdom to collect the annual tribute. It is time to fill the royal coffers with the fruits of your labor.**"

Simha nodded, his expression calm. "We are prepared to fulfill our duties to the kingdom," he replied. "However, there is a matter of the unification of the wolf village with Ebonwood. Our resources have been pooled, and our production has increased as a result."

The envoy's eyes gleamed with interest. "Is that so?" he mused. "Then surely, you can afford a generous contribution. The kingdom demands one-third of your total wheat, rye, and potato production, along with fifteen tons of meat."

A murmur of dissent rippled through the villagers. The demand was exorbitant, nearly half of the previous year's entire harvest before Simha's arrival. It would leave them with barely enough to sustain themselves through the winter.

Simha's brow furrowed. "Your demands are steep," he said, his voice steady. "Such a tribute would cripple our village. We can offer a fair share, but what you ask is beyond our means."

The envoy's demeanor turned cold. "Do not test the patience of the kingdom, Lord Simha," he warned. "Refusal to comply could have... dangerous outcomes."

Simha stood tall, his resolve unwavering. "Threats do not bode well for negotiations," he countered. "Ebonwood is a loyal village, but we will not be coerced into submission. I urge you to reconsider your position."

The envoy scoffed, unaware of Simha's true background and the strength of the united villages. "You would do well to remember your place," he sneered. "The kingdom's reach is long, and its memory longer."

Simha's eyes narrowed, a silent signal to his knights. "And you would do well to remember that Ebonwood is not without its defenses," he replied. "We seek to be fair contributors to the kingdom's prosperity, not victims of its greed."

The standoff was tense, the air thick with unspoken threats. But Simha's leadership had fostered a new spirit in Ebonwood—one of dignity and self-respect. The villagers stood firm behind their lord, ready to defend their hard-earned harvest.

The chapter closes with the envoy departing, his threats hanging over the village like a dark cloud. But Simha was undeterred. He had faced corporate sharks in his past life; a greedy envoy was a challenge he was more than equipped to handle. Ebonwood would not bow to tyranny, and Simha would ensure that the kingdom understood this, one way or another.