And that was it, and Jolthar could no longer take it. He hated being called a bastard.
Jolthar's patience snapped. He lunged forward, his hand reaching for the hilt of his sword, but before he could draw it, Nora stepped between him and Alden, her arms outstretched.
"Jolthar, stop!" she cried, her voice sharp and commanding. "This isn't the way!"
The tension in the tent had reached a boiling point. Jolthar's anger, simmering beneath the surface, had finally erupted like a volcano. His tall frame trembled with rage, his fists clenched so tightly that his knuckles turned white.
Roblan, sensing the danger, rushed forward and wrapped his arms around Jolthar's broad shoulders, trying to hold him back.
"Jolthar, stop!" Roblan shouted, his voice strained as he struggled to contain the larger man. But Jolthar was too strong, his muscles coiled like steel springs.
With a single, powerful shrug, he sent Roblan stumbling backward, nearly knocking him off his feet. Roblan recovered quickly, his face pale but determined.
"Call the soldiers!" he yelled, his voice cracking with urgency.
Alden and those men behind him watched with amusement, as if it was play.
Five soldiers rushed into the tent, their faces grim as they saw the situation unfolding. They moved quickly, surrounding Jolthar and trying to restrain him. Two grabbed his arms, another wrapped his arms around Jolthar's chest, and the remaining two tried to pin his legs. But Jolthar was like a raging bull, his strength far beyond what they could handle.
With a roar, he threw them off, sending them sprawling to the ground. The soldiers scrambled to their feet, their eyes wide with fear.
Jolthar's eyes burned with fury, his chest heaving as he took a step toward where Alden stood. His mind was consumed by a single thought: to make Alden Veyra pay for his arrogance, for his insults, for calling him a bastard.
Nora stepped in front of him, her small frame blocking his path.
"Jolthar, stop!" She shouted, her voice sharp and commanding. But Jolthar didn't seem to hear her. His eyes were fixed on the tent's entrance, his mind lost in a haze of rage.
Nora's green eyes flashed with determination, and without hesitation, she raised her hand and slapped him across the face.
The sound of the slap echoed through the tent, sharp and unmistakable.
Jolthar froze, his head snapping to the side from the force of the blow.
For a moment, there was complete silence, the tension in the air so thick it was almost suffocating.
Then, slowly, Jolthar turned to face Nora, his eyes wide with shock.
Nora stood her ground, her chest rising and falling with rapid breaths, her hand still raised. Her face was flushed, her green eyes blazing with a mixture of anger and desperation. "Enough, Jolthar!"
"How disappointing," Alden muttered.
Jolthar froze, his chest heaving with anger, his eyes locked on Alden's smirking face.
Nora turned to him, her green eyes pleading. "Think about what you're doing," she said, her voice softer now but no less urgent.
"If you attack him, you'll be playing right into their hands. They'll have all the justification they need to strip us of everything we've worked for. Is that what you want?"
Jolthar hesitated, his hand still gripping the hilt of his sword. ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴀɴᴛ ᴛᴏ ʀᴇᴀᴅ ᴍᴏʀᴇ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀs, ᴘʟᴇᴀsᴇ ᴠɪsɪᴛ novel fire.net
He knew Nora was right, but the anger burning in his chest was hard to ignore.
Alden's smirk only deepened, and he took a step back, his arms spread wide in a gesture of mock surrender. "Listen to the girl, Jolthar," he said, his tone dripping with sarcasm.
"She seems to have a better grasp of the situation than you do."
Jolthar's grip on his sword tightened, but he didn't draw it. Instead, he took a deep breath and forced himself to step back, his eyes never leaving Alden's, his voice low and dangerous. "Alden Veyra, I will remember you."
Alden chuckled, a sound that was more menacing than amused. "Big words from a man who was struck by a little girl," he said. "But by all means, Jolthar, keep pretending you're in control. It's almost endearing."
The other envoys laughed, their auras flaring in unison, a wave of oppressive energy that made the air feel heavy and suffocating. And they wanted to show Jolthar that even if he tried to attack them, he would end up dead. Their combined aura flooded towards Jolthar, like a crushing boulder.
Jolthar gritted his teeth, his own aura rising to meet theirs, but it was clear that he was outmatched. The five envoys were Tier 8 knights, well trained at that, their strength far beyond his own. He could feel their power pressing down on him, a relentless force that made it hard to breathe, hard to think.
Nora stepped closer to Jolthar, her hand resting on his arm. "Don't," she whispered, her voice barely audible over the crackling energy in the room. "They're trying to provoke you. Don't give them what they want."
Jolthar nodded, his jaw clenched so tightly it felt like his teeth might shatter. He forced himself to take another step back, his aura receding as he struggled to regain control of his emotions.
Alden watched him with a look of amusement, his smirk never wavering.
"Well, this has been… enlightening," Alden said, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "But I think we've seen enough for today."
Nora suddenly stepped forward. Her voice was firm, yet it carried a plea for reason. "This barony is under the Empire, and we have done nothing to betray its laws. If you have a problem, take it up with the Ministry, but do not stand here and flaunt your strength like tyrants."
Alden's eyes flicked to her, his amusement returning. "Ah, the lady speaks," he mused. "And what would you have us do, then? Simply trust that everything here is as it seems? That a barony on the brink of ruin suddenly flourishes with no ulterior motives? That a boy with a dangerous reputation is simply a harmless dreamer?"
Nora didn't back down. "If you wish to investigate, then do so properly. But intimidation does not change the truth. We have followed the Empire's laws, and if you wish to challenge that, then take it to the emperor. Not here. Not ."