Sigmund's Offer

From his periphery, Rafa Libera watched his wife depart the gazebo together with a servant. His head then turned to an area towards the garden, staring at a corner while in deep contemplation.

He believed that the mage from a neighboring city was a bigger problem than the Chuas. He could not find a better solution to escape from the grasp if he failed in protecting the interest of that superior mage.

Subconsciously, he stroke his beard and proceeded to cogitate. He wanted to escape the dilemma without him sacrificing his reputation in the village.

He still had his concubine, Silora Zenia, in his palm despite her increasing power. He did not have any concerns about the Lora Clan, his most loyal subordinate. But what about the other elders?

And then Sigmund Chua?

When he was thinking of that person, Rafa Libera could not help but feel a certain agitation at the thought that the person would be just nearby.

Suddenly, he felt that the swaying of the trees and the leaves of the plants halted. The gentle breeze he sensed seconds ago seemed to dissipate.

As if believing he might be trapped in a web of illusion, he sensed a certain aura slowly and yet gracefully approaching his gazebo.

With a practiced stance, the being who approached him occupied the seat where his wife used to ensconce.

Even though he could still feel his movement to be unrestricted, the village chief felt his feet were planted on the ground and his ass seemed to have been glued to his seat.

“Old Chief Rafa Libera, it’s a pleasure to meet you again.”

The old chief seemed speechless as he watched the face of an increasingly familiar man. He didn’t seem to notice the teapot being cleaned, refilled with water and heated using mana manipulation. The spirit tea used was also different. But none of these were in the village chief’s range of concern.

Momentarily, he watched the other man pick another teacup and pour it with a fresh brew of spirit tea. Sigmund offered the teacup to the village chief while he picked another for his use.

Perplexed, the village chief subconsciously grabbed the tea cup and carefully partake it as if silently complying with the other being’s request to indulge with him.

Sigmund observed the old chief’s gesture. He often noticed the chief to be fond of wearing dark garments. This time, he wore a dark brown linen coat over a dark shirt and trousers. Different rings adorned his fingers while a gleam of a round gold necklace accentuated his outward persona, radiating an aura of extravagance and leadership.

“You don’t have to be afraid. As to how I managed to be here, I think you have a fair idea of what I am capable of,” Sigmuind stated nonchalantly as if the abrupt visit was premeditated.

Meanwhile, Rafa Libera turned his head to notice his guards to be seemingly in a rigid state, standing in their positions, with no sign of movement.

“Why…? The old village chief could not form a coherent statement. But a simple query should suffice.

“Again, there’s nothing to be afraid of. I know the situation in your village. I know of your desperate desire to ascend to a higher mage level. I know that you wish to make haste in elevating your village into a town. But for over centuries, you managed to ascend one level and you gradually, albeit diligently, increase your level. But the rate of growth is slower than you wanted. That’s because you have been through various injuries that jeopardized your growth as a mage.” Sigmund paused as he took a sip of his tea.

“How do you like this tea?” The more powerful mage smiled. His confidence confused the village leader.

Sigmund did not expect the village chief to completely indulge with him in an equal conversation. Instead, he spoke as he regarded the other to be a simple spectator. “When I first arrived on this continent, my first plan was to build an empire, use the power of subjugation to force beings under my rule, and expand my territories. But when I went over this plan, I don’t feel the extreme satisfaction of abrupt ruling, lording over many people and making them fall to their knees. I don’t want to see them fear me.”

Sigmund watched the village chief, trying to decipher the other’s reaction. He observed slight confusion but he felt the fear mostly from the other person.

“Again, I don’t like that to happen. But it doesn’t mean I won’t push that plan in the future. Perhaps I might if certain circumstances require me to do so.”

Sigmund paused momentarily as he manipulated the air to bring in a gentle breeze. He turned to stare at the distance while the other man was held in his periphery. The old village chief noticed the change in the atmosphere.

“Why should I tell you my plan when we are not yet friends, or are we?” Sigmund chuckled as he continued to sip.

He continued as he found the village chief to be immobile yet conscious of any crisis that might befall him. “I actually like you to be an ally. I can be a kingmaker. I like people to see themselves rise from the challenges. I used to be in a position where my satisfaction to win was to see my clients being served justice fairly and squarely, even if they were the assailants in a case.”

The village chief, stunned beyond measure, could not utter any retort from a seemingly one-sided conversation.

His resolve to emit pressure to somehow balance the inequity he felt from the presence he never realized to be above him was futile.

Rafa Libera tried to open his mouth but it seemed that no sound could vibrate out of his vocal cords.

“Is he cursed or am I just being controlled?” Libera thought hard while carefully observing and listening to any remark from a being he never thought to be superior to him.

But then he was thankful as the individual, whose name was imprinted in his consciousness, was eyeing his estate instead of him.

There was repulsion from his side considering this person was an uninvited guest during the time when he never expected anyone to appear earlier than his intended business with persons of concern regarding village matters.

But he controlled that emotion for fear that his thought would also be discovered.

However, Rafa Libera’s intuition that his thoughts might be perceived pierced a certain thorn of fear in his heart. It elevated when his eyesight was opposite to that of Sigmund Chua’s.

“I see your efforts to make this village whole and prosperous. But…”

Aside from his eyesight, Libera’s auditory faculty was inundated with words that brought perplexing and complex emotions to him.