258 A Bold Gamble

The expressions of mirth twisted into something else entirely.

A heavy silence filled the space as warriors reached for weapons that weren’t there, hands gripping at empty air.

Had they been armed, they would have drawn steel without hesitation.

Ivar’s lone eye burned with barely restrained hostility.

“Can you back up that claim?”

William nodded.

Without a moment’s hesitation, he declared:

“If even one of your warriors can withstand a single strike from her, I will offer my life in return.”

“Hah.”

A dry chuckle escaped from Ivar’s lips.

Not only was William not backtracking—he was openly glorifying the woman as his warrior.

It was absurd.

And yet, as ridiculous as it was, Ivar couldn’t deny the opportunity that had presented itself.

A perfect chance to humiliate William, to strip him of any credibility.

“Words spoken cannot be taken back,” he reminded.

“If I didn’t know that, I wouldn’t have said them,” William replied smoothly.

“Good!”

With a thunderous bang, Ivar slammed his palm against the table and rose to his feet.

Before anyone else could react, his voice boomed across the tent.

“Descendants of the dragon, hear me! I have led this tribe as the bearer of the purest blood! But time has whitened my hair and bent my back!”

The room tensed.

“I have grown old and weary, and the burden of the dragon’s duty weighs heavily upon me. Thus, I must entrust this responsibility to one who is worthy! Tell me, do you have the resolve to bear this weight?”

Every heir in the room, save for William, immediately stood and bowed their heads in solemn acknowledgment.

It was a ceremonial gesture—one that required no words.

Ivar’s eye flickered toward William, who remained seated without the slightest movement.

His brow twitched momentarily at the blatant disregard.

But the irritation was fleeting.

Instead, his lips curled into an amused smirk as he continued.

“Very well! I have seen your resolve. But the duty of the dragon is not given lightly! Those who seek to bear this burden must first prove their worth—through three trials!”

Murmurs rippled through the gathered warriors.

A test.

The official process for selecting the next chieftain.

The weight of Ivar’s words settled over the room, tightening every candidate’s stance.

Depending on the nature of these trials, some would gain an advantage while others would suffer.

And then, the first trial was announced.

“Those who would lead must first display the strength of their warriors! Let your chosen champions fight, and through them, reveal the greatness of your rule!”

Silence.

Every eye in the room turned toward William.

The trial itself was a familiar one. It had been used in previous chieftain selections many times before.

But the problem was…

William’s earlier declaration.

If he sent out anyone other than the woman, he would be a laughingstock.

If he sent her out and she failed to land a decisive blow, he would have to forfeit his life.

He’s finished.

The warriors smirked amongst themselves, relishing in William’s impending downfall.

He had trapped himself.

The only thing left for him to do was admit defeat and resign himself to being a spectator.

And yet, William only chuckled.

“You’re not wrong. A ruler’s strength is reflected in their subordinates. The ability of one’s warriors is a direct testament to their own worth.”

“…?”

His casual, confident tone left the warriors momentarily stunned.

Was he actually going through with it?

As disbelief spread, William leaned back and nodded.

“Very well. I’ll play along. Just be careful.”

A smirk tugged at his lips.

“My guard isn’t as merciful as I am.”

—The foreigner claims a woman as his warrior!

—And now he’s sending her to fight against real warriors!

The events of the banquet spread through the tribe like wildfire.

Or rather, the warriors who had witnessed the spectacle made sure to spread it themselves.

Some did so to mock William’s foolishness.

Others simply couldn’t keep their mouths shut—because, frankly, the entire thing was too ridiculous to believe.

“A woman? A warrior? What kind of nonsense is that?”

“Who knows? Maybe things work differently in foreign lands.”

“He’s insane! A man who hides behind a woman dares call himself a king?”

“Is the prophecy wrong? There’s no way we’re supposed to follow him!”

“I don’t care what the prophecy says—I’ll never acknowledge a leader like that!”

What had begun as a mixture of curiosity and skepticism now twisted into hostility.

Ivar and the other candidates watched with satisfaction.

But William and his companions?

They remained utterly unfazed.

The only exception was Gunstein.

Unlike the others, he had only just learned that Felicia was, in fact, a warrior.

“My lord! Why didn’t you tell me this before!?”

William raised an eyebrow.

“Did I ever hide it? You’ve seen her carrying a sword at her waist countless times.”

“I thought it was for self-defense! We allow some armament for emergencies as well!”

“Well, now you know. Maybe next time, ask questions instead of making assumptions.”

“That’s not the point! I—”

“Your Highness.”

A soft voice cut through Gunstein’s flustered protests.

He froze, instinctively straightening at the unexpected interruption.

Felicia had appeared beside William, kneeling before him in a composed manner.

Gunstein’s eyes widened.

I didn’t sense her approaching at all…

Ignoring Gunstein’s reaction, Felicia spoke.

“How should I handle this?”

“What do you want to do?” William asked.

“I’m fine with anything. The terms won’t change regardless.”

“Then do as you please. Duels in this land don’t forbid killing, so feel free to act accordingly.”

“Understood. I’ll gauge the situation and adjust as needed.”

“…?”

Gunstein’s bewilderment deepened.

The conversation made no sense to him.

The vague phrasing, the matter-of-fact tone—what exactly were they talking about?

“My lord, what exactly are you discussing? Adjust what? What is she adjusting?”

William grinned.

“Oh, that? She’s just deciding how thoroughly she’s going to break her opponents.”

“…!?”

By the time morning came, every member of the tribe had gathered beneath the chieftain’s hall.

Ainar was among the first to arrive, scanning the growing crowd with a contemplative expression.

“This is disappointing.”

He muttered the words to himself as he observed the scene.