The Sinful Young Master

A tier 8 knight, his aura radiated a quiet but undeniable pressure, a presence that made even seasoned warriors take a step back. He had ruled his county for two decades, having inherited it from his father at an early age. His lands, nestled at the empire's very edge, had withstood time and turmoil—not through sheer military might, but through something far more elusive.

The beasts.

The lands surrounding the county were teeming with creatures of fangs and claws, nightmares made flesh, yet none dared lay waste to Hamen's territory. The count held a secret—a means of controlling these monsters, bending them to his will. He had been protecting this county and was able to keep the two nations in check.

The empire or the province didn't dare to outright push the county.

And it was for this reason that Yilar had come.

The meeting was held beneath the shadow of a ruined colossus, its broken hands reaching toward the sky like a supplicant. A slab of fallen stone served as a makeshift table, and Hamen sat upon it, one leg stretched out, his expression one of mild amusement as he listened to Yilar's words.

"I have come with an offer, Count Hamen," Yilar began smoothly. His voice carried the air of a diplomat, but the glint in his eyes revealed the mind of a strategist. "We need your help in crushing the empire forces, Count Hamen. You already know how the tyrant of an empire had been ignoring you all this while, and I'm sure they have already approached you to aid their campaign against the Chittera province. And it will be large scale, so they would have maybe pressured you too. And those who do not choose a side will find themselves crushed beneath the weight of fate."

Hamen exhaled through his nose, unimpressed. "Fate," he echoed, his voice deep and steady. "A coward's excuse for failure."

Yilar chuckled, unbothered by the insult. "A fair assessment," he conceded.

"Then let us speak not of fate, but of opportunity. You hold power here, Count. The beasts of these lands bow to you. The Empire has left you alone, but for how much longer? Sooner or later, their hand will extend toward Godeylet. When it does, will you kneel?"

Hamen smirked. "You mistake me for a man with a choice."

"You always have a choice," Yilar countered, stepping closer. The barbarians behind him remained still, their presence a silent reminder of what lay beyond the Empire's grasp.

"Join us. You control the creatures that stalk these lands. Imagine them unleashed against the Empire. Imagine a tide of fangs and claws tearing through their legions. The Chittera province is not merely resisting—their forces are growing. With your help, we could turn the tides."

Hamen stared at Yilar for a long moment, his expression unreadable.

Then, he chuckled.

"You think I am fool enough to side with savages and traitors?" His voice was laced with amusement, but there was steel beneath it.

"You, who is a Nynthrall, the very existence of you here is already making me puke. And you are asking me to join hands with those savages. You overestimate yourselves."

"And let me tell you, I don't care what the empire thinks or what you people are doing, as long as my land is untouched. I will not be a pawn on either side."

Yilar's expression remained calm. "And what do you think will happen when the Empire decides you are no longer useful? Do you believe they will allow a man like you, a man who commands creatures they cannot control, to continue existing unchecked? They will turn on you.

Maybe not today.

Maybe not tomorrow.

But the moment they no longer need you, they will erase you."

Hamen's smirk widened. "You assume I do not already know this."

For the first time, Yilar hesitated.

Hamen leaned forward, his hands resting on his knees.

"The difference between you and me, Fiend, is that I do not need to choose a side. I am the line between order and chaos. My county stands because I have made it so, and it will continue to stand because I know when to fight and when to wait.

You ask me to gamble everything on a war that is not yet lost. But I am not a gambler. I am a survivor."

Yilar's lips pressed into a thin line. "So you will do nothing?"

"I will do what I have always done," Hamen said.

"Watch. And when the time is right, I will decide the fate of my county—not you, not the Empire, not the Chittera." His gaze hardened.

"Now, you will leave."

Yilar's eyes narrowed. "You would turn away an alliance that could tip the scales?"

"I would turn away a snake that slithers into my home, whispering poison into my ear." Hamen's voice grew colder. "If you stay beyond this moment, you will not live to see another day."

The tension in the air thickened.

Behind Yilar, the Chittera warriors tensed, their hands inching toward their weapons. But Hamen remained seated, completely unshaken. There was no hesitation in his words—only certainty.

Yilar's next words made Hamen frown and stare at him.

"Fine. I understand. But what if I said that I have some news about your wife?"

"And that is?" Hamen said, as if waiting for him to continue. He wasn't surprised or shocked. He was rather calm.

"Do you know about the man who is sleeping with your wife?" Yilar said. As soon as he said that, Hamen's men unsheathed their swords and were ready to pounce on him.

But Hamen raised his hand, stopping them.

"My lord, let me cleave this savage creature alive and hang his hand on the walls," one of his men said, eager to take action. But Hamen shook his head, a cold smile playing on his lips.

"No need for such barbaric displays. Let him speak; I want to hear what he has to say," Hamen replied calmly, his eyes fixed on Yilar.

Yilar laughed mockingly, "She is sleeping with a man, rather a being, far more superior to you. The deity king, Inadrys."