Act III /The First Steps of Diplomacy

System Notification:

[Mission Complete: Defend Emberhold]

Reward Unlocked: Third Idea for Path of Combat

Path of Combat: Third Idea Unlocked

Idea 3 – Warrior's Instinct (Active)

Personal Buff: Reflexes and reaction speed improve by 15% in battle.Territory Buff: Trained fighters in the settlement gain improved awareness in combat, reducing casualties by 10%.

The sensation settled into Alexander's mind like a sharpened blade. His body still ached from the battle, but something felt different—his instincts keener, his reaction time sharper. Even as he stood still, he could feel the subtle changes, his awareness of the environment heightened. It wasn't overwhelming, but it was there, a natural extension of himself.

This would prove invaluable.

Alexander stood at the edge of Emberhold, the cool morning air biting against his skin. His wounds ached, but the pain was secondary. The Baron had sent word. He was willing to talk.

The news had spread through the camp quickly, stirring whispers and speculation. Some were eager to strike first, to finish what had been started. Others feared a trap. But Alexander knew one thing: if he didn't negotiate, they would all bleed again.

Silas stood beside him, arms crossed. "He's calling for a meeting at neutral ground. A ruined fort a few hours from here. Just a small retinue, no armies."

Alexander exhaled. "He's making sure we don't pull another trick on him."

Tyrell scoffed. "And what's stopping him from pulling one on us?"

Elias smirked. "Honor? Common decency?"

Silas rolled his eyes. "Caution. He lost too much to risk an ambush. If we don't show, he might decide to strike again out of spite."

Alexander nodded. "Then we go. We settle this—one way or another."

The Road to Negotiation

By noon, Alexander and his chosen men set out. He took a small escort—Elias, Tyrell, Silas, and Marcus—five in total, just as the Baron had requested. The journey was tense, the air thick with unspoken possibilities. The road they followed was old, cracked with time, barely maintained. A reminder that the frontier was no man's land.

Marcus rode up beside Alexander, keeping his voice low. "Do you think this is genuine? That he truly wants peace?"

Alexander's fingers tightened around the reins. "Not peace. He wants stability. And if I can offer that, he'll take it."

Silas, riding on his other side, scoffed. "Stability at what cost?"

"That's what we're about to find out."

As they neared the ruins, the remnants of an old fortress came into view. Crumbling stone walls stood defiantly against time, patches of moss and overgrowth swallowing what was once a proud structure. The place had been abandoned for years, too close to the dangerous wilderness to hold any strategic value. A fitting place for two men with no claim to true power to decide their fates.

The Baron was already there.

Lucius Valtor sat atop his black stallion, his crimson cloak draped over his shoulders. His remaining men—perhaps a dozen in total—stood at attention behind him. His face was unreadable, but his eyes were sharp, studying Alexander as if measuring his worth.

Alexander dismounted, his retinue following suit. The Baron did the same.

For a long moment, neither spoke. The battlefield had been replaced by words, but the tension remained the same.

Then, the Baron broke the silence.

"I didn't think you had it in you, Maxwell," he said, voice even. "I thought you'd die screaming in the dirt."

Alexander smirked. "You seem to have underestimated me."

The Baron's lips twitched, not quite a smile. "It won't happen again."

Alexander gestured toward the ruins. "Shall we?"

Without another word, the two leaders stepped into the fortress, leaving their men to wait outside.

Setting the Terms

Inside, the stone walls echoed with their footsteps. The air was damp, the scent of moss and old stone clinging to the ruins. Alexander leaned against a half-broken pillar, keeping his stance relaxed but ready. The Baron removed his gloves, examining his surroundings as if unimpressed.

"This place is as dead as the frontier," the Baron muttered.

Alexander tilted his head. "Is that why you haven't expanded here?"

The Baron's gaze flicked to him. "You think I haven't tried?" He gestured to the wilderness beyond the broken walls. "This land is cursed. The soil is poor, the beasts are relentless, and the further you go, the worse it gets. Even if a village survives, it's isolated. The roads are too dangerous for proper trade, and without trade, settlements wither and die."

Alexander absorbed the words, his mind already racing. So that's why the frontier remained empty. It wasn't just negligence—it was calculated. The cost of expansion outweighed the gain.

The Baron continued, voice measured. "The only reason you've lasted this long is because you took my supplies, my men, and my resources. Without that, your settlement would be as dead as the rest."

Alexander didn't flinch. "Maybe. But I adapted. And I'll keep adapting."

The Baron studied him, then exhaled. "That's why I'm here. I could march my remaining forces back to Emberhold and burn it to the ground."

Alexander met his gaze. "You could try."

A small smirk played on the Baron's lips before he grew serious again. "But the truth is, I'd gain nothing from it. I've already lost too many men. I'd waste more trying to finish you off."

Silence stretched between them.

"So," Alexander said finally, "you're offering a truce."

"A temporary one," the Baron corrected. "I won't recognize your rule, and you won't demand anything from me. But in return, I won't interfere with your settlement. Expand into the wilderness if you want, but don't meddle in my lands."

It was an unspoken truth—he was giving Alexander free rein to build his own dominion, so long as it remained outside of his borders.

Alexander considered it. It wasn't ideal, but it was practical. The Baron wouldn't offer anything better, and if he refused, Emberhold would face another war—one they weren't ready for.

But there was still one more thing.

"What do I offer in return?" Alexander asked. "You're not doing this out of generosity."

The Baron's expression darkened. "You leave my lands alone. No more raids, no more theft, no more interfering with my business." His eyes sharpened. "And if I call for mercenaries or reinforcements, I expect no interference from you."

It was a calculated demand. The Baron wanted to secure his position, knowing he was vulnerable after the battle. If Alexander agreed, he was promising neutrality in the Baron's future conflicts.

Alexander weighed his options.

Then, he extended his hand.

The Baron eyed it for a moment before grasping it firmly.

"Four days," the Baron said. "We settle the details here over the next four days. Then, we part ways."

Alexander nodded. "Four days."

The truce was set, but the game had just begun.