Chapter 401: Chapter 383: Peace or War?
Black Mountain Castle, outside the barracks.
Five carriages were parked outside the camp, with rows of black muzzles protruding from the walls, pointing in Domenico’s direction.
Domenico and a few nobles and servants stood there, the sunlight glistening on their clothes trimmed with golden threads, slowly flowing like a river of gold.
The sun above radiated the fervor of summer, making their heads spin, their vision blur, as sweat ran down their backs like streams.
Yet they dared not relax, fearing any misunderstanding from the Holy Gunners on the walls.
Yesterday, having arranged the carriages and everything, Domenico personally led the delegation and gifts, heading towards Black Mountain.
They first arrived at the checkpoint in front of Black Mountain Castle, where they were inspected three times and had all their weapons confiscated before reaching here.
But after waiting for almost an hour, they were beginning to peel under the scorching sun, and still Horn did not appear.
Just as they were about to faint from the heat, the camp gate finally creaked open.
Domenico and the others immediately perked up, plastering on their warmest and most courteous smiles.
Amid the orderly sound of running, dust arose as over a hundred elite Close Guard Cultivators ran past, forming a basic protective formation.
However, the first one to walk out of the camp gate was not Horn, but Dass, who was in charge of security arrangements.
After setting things in order, he took broad steps towards Domenico leisurely.
"Heh, you’re not thinking of reconciling with us, are you?" Striding up to the defeated before him, Dass sneered as he looked Domenico in the eye.
"Yes, I’ve come to seek peace. Life is precious."
Dass was equally quick to retort: "You should tell those words to the unjustly killed farmers outside Black Mountain Castle."
Ignoring Dass, who was in front of him, Domenico stretched his neck and loudly called to Horn, who was walking slowly from behind, "Mr. Horn, I am here to negotiate terms with you."
At this moment, Horn could finally see Domenico.
Domenico was dressed in a form-fitting blue-black robe with wide sleeves, the noble-style loose attire concealing his physique.
In stark contrast to the tight uniforms and upright figures on Horn’s side.
"What other terms do you have? What other terms?"
"Are you here for reconciliation?"
"No, we are here to offer our loyalty to you."
Juer Dan, who came along, stood to the side and burst into loud laughter: "At this point? You must be joking!"
Raising a hand to stop Juer Dan, Horn showed no sign of surprise or joy, as if he were asking about something entirely unrelated, "Why should I believe you?"
Domenico remained silent, merely turning around to retrieve a box from the carriage and walking towards Horn.
The nearby guards immediately crossed their long spears to block, stepping forward, with Duvalon rather harshly saying, "Open it, let me see, who knows if you’ve hidden a dagger inside."
Peeking to observe Horn’s expression, seeing the Saint’s Grandson with a cool, nonchalant appearance.
Domenico had no choice but to open the box for Duvalon to inspect.
Upon seeing what was inside, Duvalon was obviously initially stunned, but after confirming it posed no danger, he handed it to Horn with a click of the tongue in awe.
When Horn opened the box, there was little change in his expression, just a slight twitch in his eyelids.
Inside the sandalwood box was the head of Nidesar, staring unblinkingly at Horn’s face with an unseeing glare.
Horn did not know what Nidesar had gone through before his death, but amidst his anger, he surprisingly saw a trace of fear.
Nidesar, who had escaped with great effort and whom Horn had searched for three days in vain, was killed by his own people, which was quite unexpected for Horn.
Nidesar was dead, but where had the vampire token with the Moon God symbol, which was in his palm, gone?
"Why only a head?" Horn put down the wooden box, and several Legion Commanders nearby immediately peered over to take a look, clicking their tongues in astonishment.
Domenico was actually taken aback by Horn’s question, "The Sand Sculpture Knight was too dangerous; we didn’t have time to capture him alive."
"What about his body?" Perhaps knowing his question was slightly odd, Horn added, "He previously staged a fake death to escape."
"Chopping off the head shouldn’t leave him pretending, right?" Domenico stared blankly at the young man with wheat-colored skin before him, "We didn’t manage the rest of his body and probably burned it... Your Grace, it’s too hot out here, why don’t we go inside to talk?"
Horn seemed not to hear, raising his chin to ask Duvalon, "What’s on the carriage? Have you checked?"
Without waiting for Duvalon to answer, Domenico turned around and abruptly pulled down the canvas of the first carriage.
In the sunlight, the carriage was packed full with six large chests of gold and silver treasures.
Perhaps fearing Horn’s disbelief,
the most conspicuous item was a crown modeled after that of the King of Thousand River Valley, placed in the most prominent position.
"This is the gift from the Kush Knights of Jinhe Town to you."
"Oh."
What did "Oh" mean? A drop of cold sweat trickled down Domenico’s face, so he proceeded to pull down the canvas on another carriage.
This time, the carriage carried only two boxes, one filled with mithril and the other with refined gold.
"Oh."
Seeing Horn unmoved, Domenico had no choice but to unveil each carriage, revealing the treasures beneath the canvases.
Medicinal herbs, silk, spices, ceramics, artworks, dragon teeth...
Four carriages filled with all sorts of treasures, yet Horn still showed no intention of inviting Domenico into the camp to talk.
Gritting his teeth, Domenico lifted the canvas of the last carriage, and this time Horn’s expression finally changed: "What does this mean?"
As the contents of the carriage came into view, low murmurs of astonishment swept through the onlookers.
The canvas lifted, revealing a carriage full of family crests and flags, beneath which lay various foul-smelling pale heads.
"Your Grace, these people are all foreign nobles, the Leia people, the Falan people. It’s because of them that we Kush people had no choice but to fight among ourselves." As if facing mortal enemies, Domenico yelled and lashed at the heads and crests several times.
A head was struck by a whip, bouncing and rolling to Horn’s feet.
"We are all Kush people; Kush people do not fight Kush people." After a few rounds of whipping, Domenico, panting heavily, stepped forward.
"I killed your Duke Kush Danai. Didn’t you previously say you wouldn’t rest until one of us was dead?" Horn asked, amused, as he looked at Domenico before him.
Domenico righteously waved it aside: "Danai wasn’t a Kush; we checked, his Norn bloodline was greater than his Kush bloodline, at most making him a sixteenth Kush.
His bloodline impurity is far from yours. You are the Kush among Kush, the ruler among Kush, the master of Kush, the terminator of Leia and Falan!"
Such exaggerated, almost hymn-like strings of praise made the rough soldiers nearby cringe with embarrassment, even some gagging slightly.
It seems that high nobles flattering the Pope look no different from small landowners flattering Knights, except perhaps for an increase in rolled ’r’ sounds.
"Previously, we were under the Church’s deception, and you also know the situation in Jinhe Town at the time; we had no choice in making those claims.
We’re sending their bodies to show you our determination and seek your forgiveness." Concluding this long narrative, Domenico maintained a dignified face, though his heart was pounding.
How could he not be nervous? The young man before him held the fate of the entire Langsande County, especially after their recent defeat, a pressure ordinary people could hardly compare to.
Silently squatting down, Horn poked around at the heads with a stick for a while before standing up, supporting himself on his knee: "Do you consider yourself a Kush? Would you be willing to convert to our Holy Path’s Miseria Church?"
"Yes, Your Grace, this is our loyalty offered by the Kush people!" Domenico raised his head, "The Kush have had enough of the Church’s rule."
Gazing at Domenico’s face before him, then around at the other observing War Monks.
Horn closed the box in his hand: "You all go wait in the hall for now; it’s too hot at noon for a discussion. First, write a brief report for me, and we’ll talk after 3 o’clock."
The weight lifted from Domenico’s heart, and he felt reassured; indeed, as grandmother had predicted.