In the end, they decided to take the meeting, though both of them remained on the fence about it. They agreed to meet with Sol in one of the chambers designated for private meetings. Reflecting on it, Alistair realized he was far less nervous this time compared to their previous encounter. It helped that he wasn’t meeting the god alone this time.

  "Really curious what he’s going to be like," Riseth commented, glancing at him. "Do you think he’ll be as relaxed as last time?"

  "He still wants something from us, so I think so," Alistair replied thoughtfully. "I’m more curious about how being outside of his realm affects his power. This is the realm of Zagonath, after all."

  Alistair had found himself intrigued when he first learned about Zagonath. The god was a peculiar figure among Natural gods, acting unseen in the background. With the Tok’eall having shed religious practices millennia ago, the collective beliefs of their people had shaped Zagonath into something unique—a god of luck, fortune, and chance. Rather than ruling over his people like most Natural gods, Zagonath served as a quiet, unseen hand, subtly guiding the Tok’eall toward greatness. His influence was felt in the form of serendipitous events and fortunate outcomes, a helper rather than a ruler, devoted to ensuring the prosperity of his people.

  They made their way through the winding passages of the skyscraper that housed the meeting chambers. For once, they weren’t accompanied by attendants. Having frequented the building enough times, the attendants had left them to navigate on their own, redirecting their efforts to assist those less familiar with Tok’eall architecture. While the design was highly logical once one got the hang of it, it remained perplexing for most newcomers.

  As they approached the chambers, Alistair sensed Sol's familiar aura. However, it was far more subdued than he remembered—almost diminutive. The distance from his own realm, combined with being within another god’s territory, had clearly taken a toll on Sol’s presence. To Alistair’s surprise, the gap between them no longer felt as insurmountable as it had during the trial, a change likely due to both Sol’s diminished state and his own growth since then.

  Opening the door without much preamble, they found Sol seated comfortably in the corner of the room, where a plush seating arrangement had been set up. He sipped from a goblet—what Alistair presumed was ambrosia—while a dinner plate sat before him, featuring what was unmistakably a Lomlom steak based on its distinct aroma, alongside other signature dishes from both Lacustrine and Nautilis.

  "Ah, Alistair," Sol greeted warmly, his tone lifting with delight. "And you brought Riseth. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you." He gestured to the seats opposite him. "Come, join me. I appreciate you taking the time to meet with me."

  If Sol felt any strain from being outside his realm, he didn’t show it. His silver-and-gold eyes sparkled with excitement as he took them in, a genial smile resting on his lips. With a casual wave, he motioned for them to sit.

  Alistair couldn’t help but wonder whether the spread of food was for theatrics, genuine enjoyment, or merely a conversation starter. Regardless, he returned Sol’s smile and gave a relaxed wave as he and Riseth crossed the room to take their seats across from him.

  Taking one last bite, Sol let out a theatrically exaggerated moan of delight before flashing them a crooked smile. "I know you likely won’t believe me, but I’ve been seriously tempted by that sister of yours to use my favor just to have one of your restaurants open on Earth."

  "I presume you’re saving it for a rainier day?" Alistair questioned, half-joking.

  "Yes," Sol replied simply, his unnaturally beautiful features lighting up with a bright smile. "Though, that isn’t why I asked to meet with the two of you."

  Alistair nodded, his curiosity getting the better of him. "Honestly, I was pretty surprised when I realized you didn’t claim Mt. Everest for yourself," he admitted. "Seems like a prime spot for a powerful dragon vein."

  "Well, there’s a reason a sect like that formed around the mountain," Sol replied, a hint of apprehension in his tone. "When magic was introduced to Earth, Everest became a hotspot for death magic. The sheer number of left-behind bodies and sites like Roopkund Lake—which turned into a Styxian Basin—gave rise to countless necromantic sites and treasures."

  Alistair and Riseth listened intently as Sol continued, detailing Earth’s transformations—some guided by his influence, others occurring naturally. Alistair found himself fascinated by the first-hand account, unbothered that Sol took his time explaining his reasoning for allowing certain transformations to unfold.

  "Stopping the transformation would have been wasteful," Sol admitted. "A site that naturally propagated the creation of death treasures should have been a tremendous boon for Earth. Regrettably, those who ended up settling there were cultivators." He grimaced, his voice tinged with regret. "Even though my foresight failed me, I should have anticipated that outcome."

  His tone carried a faint note of regret, though his composed demeanor remained unchanged, the weight of his words lingering in the air.

  "Just from listening, I can tell you had quite a few decisions to make about what to claim and what to let go," Alistair said thoughtfully. "It makes sense to leave a death site unoccupied—there have to be significant negative effects on anyone not specializing in that particular branch of concepts."

  "Indeed," Sol replied with a slight nod. "I even considered having one of the vampire factions settle there, but none of them focused on death magic, nor were they particularly keen on inhabiting such a dreary and hostile landscape."

  The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

  "You said this Everrest Sect has a Bone Garden. Are you certain?" Riseth asked, her voice calm but probing.

  Sol turned his attention to her, a genial smile spreading across his face. "I wouldn’t waste your time if I weren’t sure," he said smoothly. "There are quite a few treasures you might find intriguing. I’m more than willing to negotiate their distribution, depending on how many forces you’re prepared to commit to the eradication of the Everrest Sect."

  Sol then retrieved a tablet from his storage, typing briefly before handing it to Riseth. She took it, hesitating for a moment before browsing through the dossier. The file contained a detailed report on the Sect, its official designation from the Aegis Coalition as an Extermination Mandate, and a list of known magical sites and treasures the Sect was known to possess.

  "I made sure to share our intel with the AC to secure approval for the recruitment of Coalition-sanctioned mercenaries and war bands," Sol continued. "In case I couldn’t convince you—or another party—to assist me in this matter."

  Alistair’s expression darkened as he processed the information. Extermination Mandates were reserved for the worst of the worst—factions so vile and dangerous they were deemed beyond redemption. It wasn’t surprising for a sect like the Everrest to earn such a designation, but knowing they were being compared to entities like the Hivemind Devourers or Orc Tide cast a grim shadow over the matter.

  "You pushed for that designation, I presume?" Alistair asked, his tone neutral as he glanced over the dossier alongside Riseth.

  "I provided sufficient evidence," Sol replied smoothly. "It makes convincing you and other factions much easier."

  Alistair couldn’t argue with that logic, and neither could Riseth. They remained quiet, letting Sol continue outlining his expectations for the agreement. When they suggested bringing one of their own allies into the fold, Sol’s delight was evident, and he readily agreed to let them assist for a share of the loot.

  "I’m more than happy to let any and all factions join," Sol said with a grin. "The fewer forces I have to commit to any front, the better. Though, I do expect this matter to be settled within the next half-year at the latest."

  Alistair considered the proposal while Riseth compiled a list of the potential loot and drafted rough calculations of the shares they and the Beshin might receive based on their level of commitment.

  It dawned on him then that this was the first time they were formally negotiating an official mercenary contract.

  As he went over the details, he found himself arguing for the values of specific shares, discussing the level of support Sol would provide, and insisting on clearer definitions for some of the objectives outlined in the agreement.

  "What if they destroy or take the Bone Garden?" Riseth inquired, her tone sharp with concern. "There are quite a few treasures we value, but none as highly as it."

  Sol appeared to mull the question over, his expression briefly thoughtful. "If the treasure is destroyed or sabotaged, I’ll do my best to acquire or locate an alternative and pay reparations," he offered.

  Riseth’s expression grew contemplative, though it was clear she wasn’t satisfied with the suggestion. "No, I don’t think that will do," she replied firmly. "If the treasure is lost, our owed favor will be void."

  Sol grimaced slightly at the proposition, his genial demeanor momentarily faltering. "That seems… excessive," he countered, his tone measured but carrying a note of reluctance.

  Riseth shook her head. "It’s a fair compromise. Our assistance in this matter more than matches the favor we owe you." Seeing Sol’s hesitant expression, she continued, her tone steady but firm. "Unless they somehow know that particular treasure is our target, it shouldn’t be a concern. As long as we obtain what we want, the favor stands. You can also be certain we wouldn’t sabotage our own interests just to be freed from the favor we owe you."

  Sol hesitated briefly, but his expression softened as he relinquished the point. "You’re right," he admitted. "My primary interest is fostering good relations and building the potential to call on you for mercenary work—or other matters—rather than holding you bound by favors."

  "So you agree to our terms?" Riseth pressed.

  "I do," Sol confirmed. "In the unlikely event the Bone Garden is lost before you can secure it, I will recognize your favor as fulfilled as long as you still complete the contract."

  Riseth nodded, her expression calm and resolute. "Good," she said, clearly satisfied with his response.

  Alistair read over the wording as it finalized on the contract, nodding in satisfaction. The terms were clear, and everything they had argued for was accounted for.

  After exchanging a few brief words through the Akashic Link with the Beshin Clan, Riseth, and Nessyra—who temporarily paused her own dealings to meticulously review the mercenary contract—he returned his attention back to Sol.

  "We’re ready to accept this contract, and so is the Beshin Clan," Alistair said, his tone steady. "Unless there are any additional demands or changes you’d like to propose?"

  Sol gave a slight shake of his head, his expression calm. "No, I’m satisfied with this arrangement as it stands." He extended his right hand, and Alistair grasped it firmly. As they shook on the agreement, the contract magic activated with a sharp snap, binding the terms into place.

  "Pleasure doing business with you," Alistair said, offering a smile, which Sol mirrored with ease.

  "Likewise," Sol replied, letting go of his hand and leaning back into his seat. "I hope you find success in this endeavor and that I may call on you again in the future."

  "If the price is right, I don’t see why not," Riseth interjected before Alistair could reply, a playful smile curving her lips as the tip of her tail flicked excitedly around her waist.

  Sol let out a booming laugh, the sound surprisingly warm and pleasant despite its volume. "I truly regret not having you join us during my first meeting with your husband," he said with a grin, retrieving two additional cups and filling them with ambrosia before offering the drinks to them.

  Alistair chuckled softly as he and Riseth accepted the cups, though he hesitated for a moment, holding the cup delicately. Ambrosia was a rare treasure, and its value made him wonder whether drinking it immediately was the right move. Riseth, too, held hers carefully, her playful demeanor giving way to brief contemplation.

  Noticing their hesitation, Sol paused for a moment, his gaze thoughtful. "I’d be willing to share the occasional batch of ambrosia if you’d consider exporting your Spirit Orchid Wine—or any of your other foodstuffs—to Earth at a fair rate."

  Alistair and Riseth exchanged a glance, silently weighing the suggestion, before Alistair decided to respond. "That’s an offer you’d need to make to our Clan Executive."

  Sol’s perfectly composed expression faltered, and he pouted slightly—an expression that looked entirely out of place on his otherwise immaculate face. "Negotiating with your sister is much more difficult," he admitted with a hint of playful exasperation, "and much less likely to succeed."

  He let out another chuckle, shaking his head as he raised his cup in a toast. "To fruitful partnerships and even better drinks," he declared with a grin.