When those words left Roy's mouth, everyone inside the fortress immediately felt fear creeping down their spines, as if those words were a chant to a spell that could summon a demon that would ravage them completely.
Rak Mhan fell silent, he stared at Roy's eyes again, this time, more intensely.
Roy did not back down, when he met Rak Mhan's gaze, he just formally returned the gesture, now, the two of them are back to the same staring contest like old rivals who cannot decide who's stronger.
But before things could escalate, Rak Mhan let out a deep sigh, as if he was holding his breath for so long and decided to stop pretending air did not exist, he lowered his gaze and seated at his chair.
Roy's lips curved slightly into a grin.
"When I was serving the army," Rak Mhan said, his voice carried visible trace of disdain and restraint anger, like someone who had been betrayed so many times, he had started normalizing them.
"My army was suddenly ambushed by twenty thousand Southern Cavarly," He continued, "My men fought desperately, trying to hold them off until reinforcements arrive."
He paused, letting the sentence float into the air, but everyone has already reached the same conclusion.
"None came, for three days my men had fought desperately for the Western Kingdom, they exchanged their lives for an empire that did not care about them. Soon, my army was wiped out, and I was captured, when i escaped and went back to the palace, I discovered that the military and civil officials were already preparing to replace me."
Roy listened to the man's words with absolute obedience, trying not to miss even a fraction of that sentence.
Rak Mhan continued, his story became more and more insane, clearly portraying the absurdity of the Western Kingdom.
After hearing the man's story, Roy understood, he suddenly fell silent.
He wasn't trying to intimidate him.
It was a test, to see wether Roy was no different from the Wetern Official's who had sacrificed him and called it strategy.
Roy's lips curved into a smile, the sweet, gentle smile of a father looking at his long lost son who had overcome many hardships, the kind that showed deep satisfaction and delight.
"You have overcome many challenges," Roy said, his voice gentle, almost reassuring, "But I am no Official, nor I am part of the Western Kingdom."
Rak Mhan looked at him with a serious face, his eyes sharp, clearly not unfazed by Roy's sweet voice.
"Then why did you summon so many former officials?" Rak Mhan asked, his eyes narrowed deeper as his gaze still fixed at Roy's gentle expression.
"Because I wanted to make use of your talents." Roy replied, his tone low, but firm.
"You claimed that you are not part of the Western or the Southern Kingdom," Rak Mhan continued, his voice turning cold, "Then tell me, where did you come from?"
Roy did not answer immediately, he had deliberately let that sentence float into the air before speaking.
"I come from a place very, very far away."
"Where?"
"I can't tell you."
A long pause echoed across the room, Roy did not intend to tell the man where he originally came from, some things are better left...concealed.
Rak Mhan's face twisted violently, his jaw tightened as he looked at Roy's sweet expression, clearly had no intentions of answering his questions.
He slammed his hands onto the stone table, preparing to lunged forward and grab Roy's neck.
But before he could assault him, Roy's expression suddenly turned serious, the earlier gentle, almost reassuring expression suddenly dropped and changed into a gloomy, dark look, like a man who had been wearing a mask and deliberately took it off to show his true reactions.
"Tell me, General Mhan," Roy said with a cold, almost piercing tone, " Do you still want to fight for the West, or fight for me?"
That question instantly froze Rak Mhan in place, his eyes widened in shock, his mind stalled, still trying to process the sentence.
Everyone inside the room had their faces drained of color, especially Rak Mhan.
When he was abandoned by the Western Kingdom, he was furious beyond measure, vengeance lingered at his heart as he recall the massacre of his men.
Once, he had considered defecting to the South, yet those bastards were brutal beyond reason, they capture the women and children, sell them as slaves or violate them to death, having no choice, he decided to retire and let the problem be handled by someone else.
Now, someone had recruited him to fight against the Western Kingdom, the memory of his army being massacred for protecting the Western land, like a pawn that was sent as a sacrifice and claimed it as strategy.
Anger surged through his veins like a flood, he wanted revenge, but he lack power to do so.
He let out a deep breath, calming his anger as he gently sat down.
Rak Mhan spoke in a calm, gentle tone, but his expression still showed a faint of fury.
"You want to fight against the West," Rak Mhan said, his expression cold but a spark of vengeance still visible in his eyes, "With what army? I saw your men outside, no discipline, no formations, they look more like patrol men rather than proper soldiers."
Roy's expression softened, a trace of amusement visible on his face.
"That is why I invited you here." Roy said, his earlier cold tone switched to a soft, low voice.
Rak Mhan immediately fell silent, unsure wether what to speak next, his mind still raced as he tried to process the situation, he wanted revenge against the Western Kingdom, but he had no power to do so, but accepting Roy's offer without truly knowing him if he was no different than the West is...unreasonable.
But still, avenging his fallen brothers was more important than dying with regret.
He let out a deep sigh, finalizing his decision.
"I accept the offer."