Re: Tales of the Rune-Tech Sage

Chapter 644: Apology

CH644 Apology

***

Mogal watched Alex throughout the silent journey back to the Fortuna mansion.

Alex sat by the window, his gaze fixed outside, his expression blank—lost deep within his own thoughts.

From time to time, a quiet sigh would escape him, carrying a weight Mogal could not quite decipher.

Mogal did not know what was truly going through his leader’s mind. However, he surmised that Alex had already vented whatever anger he had felt during the meeting, leaving behind something heavier... disappointment, perhaps, as they neared the mansion.

By the time they arrived, most of the uninjured members of Fortuna—predominantly Pangeans—were already engaged in training within the grounds with strange tools from Sugud.

Only a few of the Fury Knights remained stationed by the gate, keeping watch.

Zora, Eleanore, and Udara were already waiting at the entrance, stepping forward as the carriage came to a halt.

”How did it go?” Zora asked, a hint of hope lingering in her voice.

Alex stepped down and shook his head with a faint, wry smile.

”The negotiations fell through,” he replied.

”What happened?” the three women asked almost in unison.

”Let’s head inside first,” Alex said. ”Call everyone.”

He paused briefly before adding,

”All of them.”

It did not take long before the entire Fortuna Company had gathered within the living room.

Alex’s wives took their seats on the large three-seater sofa, while the rest positioned themselves around the room. Though there were enough seats available, most chose to remain standing, their attention fixed squarely on Alex.

He stood before the fireplace, naturally drawing every gaze towards him.

”The peace talks with the Lost Heathens have failed,” Alex announced. ”This is what transpired...”

He then proceeded to recount the events of the meeting in a strangely detached tone.

As he spoke, the atmosphere within the room changed.

When Brock Peyton’s first demand—the forced merger—was revealed, anger began to simmer among the members of Fortuna.

But when Alex calmly relayed the second demand—regarding the women—the temperature seemed to plummet into an icy abyss.

Even Alex’s previously impassive expression dropped.

His eyes flickered, instinctively shifting towards his wives... lingering, if only for a moment longer, on Zora in particular.

Her eyes were indeed frosty. However, to his surprise, she was not the source of the sudden shift in the atmosphere.

It was the Fortuna members themselves.

In that instant, Alex realised he had overlooked something important. During his period of seclusion, it had been his wives who managed affairs on his behalf. In many ways, they had become more familiar—and more approachable—to the members of Fortuna than he himself had.

If he stood as an indomitable figure—someone they could only look up to with awe and distance—then his wives were different.

They were cherished figures within the group... almost akin to saintesses whom none would tolerate being sullied by even the slightest trace of filth.

For Brock Peyton to so much as entertain the thought of laying hands on them—let alone the outright blasphemy of consigning them to a brothel—that alone was a crime worthy of death in their eyes.

Alex nearly let out a quiet chuckle at the realisation that his wives might, in truth, wield a softer—but no less potent—influence over the group than he did.

’The stronger I become, the greater the distance they may feel from me... but if the women can bridge that gap, then perhaps it is something I should be grateful for, rather than concerned about,’ Alex mused inwardly.

He brought his hands together in a sharp clap.

The oppressive chill in the room dissipated instantly, and the group’s focus returned to him.

Alex paused briefly before speaking.

”I owe all of you an apology,” he said. ”I know many of you must be frustrated with our inaction—especially after losing some of our own, and with the rest of the raid party still recovering from their injuries.”

”You don’t owe us any apology, boss,” Kavakan—the leader of the raid party—interjected.

”We’ve spent enough time with you to understand the kind of person you are. If you haven’t acted yet, then there’s a reason for it. And when you do act...”

A confident grin spread across his face.

”...the enemy won’t know what hit them.”

He gave a small shrug.

”Besides, even if you chose not to act at all—that’s still your decision, boss. And we trust you.”

The members of the party nodded in agreement, their expressions reflecting the same unwavering sentiment.

’His ass-kissing is improving by the day,’ Alex thought dryly as he glanced at Kavakan.

Even so, he took the weretiger’s praise with a grain of salt. His gaze turned instead towards Silver and Havel.

”We didn’t say anything,” Havel spoke up immediately.

”I didn’t say you did,” Alex replied calmly, a knowing look in his eyes.

”They don’t need to,” Zora interjected. ”Everyone knows that whenever the scouting team starts acting quietly... it means you’re planning something.”

”We can all more or less infer your intentions,” Eleanore added with a faint smile.

The women turned their attention to Kavakan, who simply shrugged.

”The raid party makes up nearly half of our strength, and we’re currently incapacitated. Since the Lost Heathens primarily operate outside the city, it was only natural that their leader wouldn’t be able to attend the meeting immediately. That delay gave us time to recover—at least partially—after the initial healing,” he explained.

”It also gave the scouting team the opportunity to gather intelligence on the Lost Heathens,” Sergeant Lopota added. ”Enough, hopefully, for us to deliver a decisive strike.”

”Which brings us to the real question,” Mogal said, folding his arms. ”What exactly is the plan, boss?”

”It seems you all know me rather well,” Alex replied, a faint twitch tugging at his smile.

He sighed inwardly.

’Even so... I had genuinely hoped that Brock Peyton—the power-drunk brute that he is—might have seen reason.’

’Now that things have reached this point, we have no choice but to act decisively. But in doing so... we will inevitably draw the attention I was trying to avoid.’

’Why is it that things never seem to go smoothly whenever I choose the path of peace?’

He exhaled softly, shaking his head.

”It seems BloodIron City has mistaken our silence for weakness,” Alex said at last. ”They have confused a sleeping tiger for a harmless housecat.”

His gaze sharpened.

”That Brock Peyton struts about like a great serpent... yet he forgets that no matter how large a snake may grow, it must still bow its head before a dragon.”

A slow smile spread across his lips.

”Shall we go and remind them?”

The party cheered!

***