Chapter 283: Chapter 283 Drifter
Julius barely processed the words coming out of Riley’s mouth—not because they lacked importance, but because something, or rather someone, had completely stolen his attention.
Ruby.
She stood behind Riley, almost half-shielded by the flowing black-and-silver robes of the Raven Clan’s delegation, yet her presence radiated like a flare in the night.
Julius’s eyes widened ever so slightly, a thousand thoughts flashing through his mind in the span of a heartbeat.
Her beautiful face, unmistakable even from afar, stirred a storm of emotions within him.
Surprise. Tension. Anger. Retribution.
And just like that, the reason for Riley’s visit became clear.
So that’s why they were here.
Riley. The Raven Clan. A force that rarely moved unless the stakes were high.
Now, it all made sense.
But Julius was no fool. He didn’t let his inner turmoil show.
Years of leadership, political maneuvering, and martial discipline kicked in.
He schooled his face into the perfect smile—warm, welcoming, and gracious.
"Let’s set official matters aside for now, Master Riley," Julius said, stepping forward with arms slightly spread in a gesture of hospitality.
"Please, allow me and my clan to act as proper hosts first. No need to dive into discussions that will give all of us headaches before we’ve had a chance to enjoy ourselves."
His voice was even, cultured, and full of charm, the kind that soothed nerves and built bridges in an instant.
Even so, Riley didn’t miss the subtle flicker in his eyes when he glanced at Ruby again.
Riley offered a polite nod in return.
"Of course," he said, his voice calm and unhurried. "We’re happy to be here."
He returned Julius’s smile with one of his own—less ornate, but no less powerful.
It was the smile of a man who knew exactly what he was doing, and exactly what he brought to the table.
And behind him, his entourage—composed of high elders, enigmatic protectors, and radiant young elites—stood with a quiet majesty that turned heads wherever they went.
In a matter of moments, the core members of Riley’s group entered the main hall like monarchs arriving for coronation.
The wide stone steps of the Forge Clan compound echoed beneath their feet as they passed, cloaks rustling softly, boots shining from hours of travel and enchanted protection.
They didn’t strut. They didn’t posture.
They owned the moment by simply existing in it.
The halls were lined with guards who bowed low, their armor gleaming.
Servants stood at attention with practiced poise, having worked through the night to ensure everything was perfect.
Wide-eyed juniors peeked from behind pillars, whispering excitedly to one another.
Even the elders of the Forge Clan—men and women who rarely bowed to anyone—stood straight with composed expressions, their hands clasped in respect as they watched the procession.
Julius led them down a long, torch-lit corridor, his boots making no sound despite the stone beneath.
They passed murals carved into the walls—depicting the Forge Clan’s long and illustrious history, battles fought and won, weapons forged in dragonfire, oaths made and broken in blood.
It was a proud legacy. One he had no intention of losing.
At last, the grand doors of the feast hall swung open.
A breathtaking scene awaited them inside. The massive banquet hall was a marvel of craftsmanship and preparation.
Thick wooden beams stretched overhead, each one etched with the names of legendary blacksmiths and warlords.
Floating lanterns shimmered with a soft, golden light, casting intricate patterns across the walls.
Enchanted ice crystals in silver bowls cooled the air without disturbing the scent of roasted meats, spiced wine, and honeyed bread.
Long tables overflowed with delicacies—grilled beast ribs from the Crimson Valley, spirit-infused lotus roots from the southern marshes, roasted phoenix fowl with fireberry glaze, and dozens of desserts gilded in edible gold leaf.
Every plate, goblet, and utensil had been carefully placed.
This wasn’t just a meal—it was a declaration of power, wealth, and respect.
Riley’s expression didn’t change, but he nodded ever so slightly, acknowledging the effort.
"The Forge Clan is truly prepared," one of the Raven Clan elders murmured behind him, clearly impressed.
Julius’s smile deepened. "Only the best for our honored guests."
But deep inside, his heart beat faster. Not from pride. Not from fear.
From him.
From Riley—the one person in this entire feast who could undo him with a single glance.
And he had a feeling that the real negotiations would begin the moment the feast ended.
The great feast hall of the Forge Clan was alive with warmth and celebration.
Gleaming chandeliers carved from enchanted crystal bathed the room in soft golden light, refracting gently off the polished obsidian walls.
Servants moved swiftly and silently, refilling goblets with celestial wine and replenishing steaming platters of spirit beast meat, glazed fruits, and rare delicacies drawn from the highest peaks and deepest oceans.
Guests from both the Raven and Forge Clans were deep in conversation, sharing stories, laughing freely, and relishing the rare union of two great powers beneath one roof.
The musicians played songs woven with dao intent, their melodies subtly enhancing the mood and drawing everyone deeper into the spirit of camaraderie.
It was a masterfully orchestrated evening—one meant to impress, to soothe, and to build bridges.
At the high table, surrounded by key elders and dignitaries, Julius sat beside Evangeline.
Though his lips moved little and his voice never rose, their conversation stood apart from the rest.
Evangeline’s face remained poised and respectful, but her words carried a quiet strength.
Julius listened carefully, his fingers drumming slowly against the armrest of his throne-like seat.
They had spoken of many things, but one topic lingered.
It was about Ruby.
And the son he had once hoped to see joined with her in marriage.
After a long silence between them, Julius’s brows furrowed, and he finally let out a slow, weary sigh.
There was no anger in it—just the resignation of a man who had fought many battles and had long since learned which ones could not be won.
"I see," he murmured, his voice no louder than the flicker of a candle flame.
"Then it is as I suspected. Love cannot be coaxed from the unwilling, no matter how strong the alliance, nor how honorable the intent behind it."
Evangeline bowed her head slightly.
"The girl’s heart was never his to claim, Patriarch Julius. Forcing the union would have only bred resentment. We would not wish to bring discord into your clan—or ours."
Julius looked at her for a long moment, then turned his gaze out across the room, watching the revelry continue.
Ruby was seated farther down the hall, conversing politely with a few Raven Clan elders, her expression composed but distant.
His son, meanwhile, sat rigidly beside his own group, occasionally glancing in Ruby’s direction with a look that flickered between longing and defeat.
"It’s a pity that my son could not win the love of your maidservant, Master Riley," Julius said finally, his voice now carrying just enough weight to be heard across the table—perhaps even a little beyond.
"Our clan will formally return the marriage contract once your visit concludes. Some things," he said with a soft, melancholic smile, "simply cannot be forced."
Though the patriarch had not spoken loudly, his words carried.
A ripple of silence swept through the room—soft but unmistakable.
Many of the guests, sharp-eared cultivators all, turned subtly in their seats.
Conversations stalled, a few eyes narrowed in curiosity, and some young cultivators whispered behind raised sleeves.
The news, it seemed, had broken like a wave upon still water.
A marriage contract returned.
An alliance dissolved.
But more than that—it spoke to character. To honor. To restraint.
And to the wisdom of old leaders who chose harmony over ambition.
Master Riley nodded respectfully, lifting his cup toward Julius in silent acknowledgment of the decision.
Julius returned the gesture, though a glimmer of regret still lingered in his eyes.
There was no shame in the outcome—only the quiet understanding that in matters of the heart, even patriarchs and grand alliances must sometimes yield.
The music resumed, livelier this time, and the feast regained its pace.
Dancers entered the hall, their movements graceful and ethereal, drawing the attention of the younger cultivators and easing the tension.
Yet in the shadows of that merriment, many minds turned.
What did it mean for the Raven and Forge Clans?
What would Riley do next?
And what role would Ruby play in the tides to come?
"It’s a pity indeed," Riley said, his tone measured and calm, like the steady flow of a mountain spring.
"But not all unfortunate things must remain that way. Even endings, when met with grace, can carry the seeds of renewal."
He paused, his eyes briefly flickering to Julius, then back to the center of the table.
"To honor the bond between the two immortal clans—and as a gesture of apology—please accept this gift, Master Julius."
With those words, Riley raised his right hand and slowly opened his palm.
Julius did not expect to see this item at all.