Deities: Starting From Goblins

Chapter 463: 278_1

Following behind the old man were about a dozen people who were equally formidable, weapons in hand and on high alert. August Westman limped in, complaining to the elder about how he’d been mistreated, going so far as to exaggerate the extent of his suffering, leaving the distressed innkeeper dumbfounded.

Logan appeared utterly composed. However, he had to admit the Westman Family was indeed powerful, ready to deploy the Perfect King’s Seat for revenge at a moment’s disagreement. The Perfect King’s Seat was nearly a Half-Step Sovereign, one of the strongest in this city, who would not act without cause. But when he did, it was always a storm of blood and gore.

Among the remaining dozen or so people, there were three ordinary Kings and ten High-ranking Oversteps. This strength was equivalent to a small sect placed anywhere, proving the robust might of the Westman Family. After all, the local lords were merely Dominators, which was nothing in comparison.

The elder furrowed his brows, his gaze immediately landing on the burly man: “Butcher, don’t you usually act alone? My Westman Family has never offended you, yet you publicly humiliated our Young Master in front of so many people. Isn’t that taking things too far? Do you think the Westman Family is really afraid of you?”

The Westman Family had three dominators, and more than twenty kings while the opponent was merely a King. Despite his recent notoriety as the butcher after killing many people, he was ultimately nothing but a clown. The Westman Family never bothered with him – why did he come on their door unasked today?

“You mean August Westman?” the burly man laughed scornfully: “He does not deserve my engagement. He’s been exploiting the city. I only gave him a few words of admonition which has actually done the Westman Family a favor. I get no gratitude in return and instead, am met with hostility. Is this how the Westman Family treats their guests?”

“Besides, I’m not called Butcher. My name is Shingo Butcher. I’ve carved out my life amidst danger and bloodshed throughout the years. Others may be afraid of the Westman Family, but I am fearless with my blade. Unless your entire Westman Family decides to hunt me down, it might take a decade or two to catch up with me.”

The innkeeper, although frightened, mustered the courage to speak: “August Westman has been asking me for Spirit Stones all along, demanding twenty thousand per month. The kind sir didn’t agree and helped me out. He didn’t want any trouble with the Westman Family, it was August Westman who made things worse all along. I am willing to sell my inn and give the Westman Family tens of thousands of Spirit Stones in hope to resolve this conflict.”

The elder glared fiercely at the innkeeper, his gaze full of disdain. It wasn’t just a matter of a few thousand Spirit Stones that the Westman Family was offended and the Young Master lost face. He, of course, knew that the Young Master was exaggerating the story. After all, the Young Master was notorious for doing whatever he wished in the city. How could he possibly have been innocently bullied as he described?

But that did not matter. Regardless of right or wrong, the Young Master was the one at a disadvantage, and this needed to be addressed. The Young Master represented the face of the entire Westman Family. What would people think of the Westman Family if they did nothing? Wouldn’t it give anyone the license to step on them in the future? That was absolutely unacceptable.

However, the elder was also torn. The words of the Butcher, spoken so lightly, carried a clear threat. If relations between both parties deteriorated, the Butcher could easily become a fugitive. The Westman Family naturally wouldn’t be able to dedicate substantial manpower to hunt him down. And if that happened, the city would be left without defensive forces.

Moreover, the Butcher was, after all, a Perfect King – a formidable adversary. If a prolonged standoff was to ensue, it would undoubtedly be unfavorable for the Westman Family. They were extensive in number and had big business to take care of while the Butcher was a lone wolf. What if he went rogue and began picking off Westman Family members in secret? If that happened, nobody from the Westman Family would dare to leave the city walls, and the Westman scions would lose their opportunity to gain experience.

While the Westman Family was a significant force within the city, it was limited to that. Unless absolutely necessary, they would not wish to be at odds with a Perfect King. The initial intention of their young master seeking his revenge was to regain the face of the Westman Family. The secondary objective was to reconcile with the Butcher and if it fell through, to ensnare him, leaving him with no escape.

The elder gave a faint smile and approached, “Butcher, is it worth it for a mere innkeeper? Now, hear me out. For offending my Young Master, the innkeeper must be publicly paraded and then executed on the spot. As for our difference, just lower your head and it will be resolved. I assure you, the Westman Family will not trouble you in the future. That way, we all save face.”

“Westman old man, aren’t you acting too arrogantly?” the burly man shook his head, a touch of icy killing intent appeared in his eyes as he found the elder’s domineering behavior distasteful. Though there was a hint of reconciliation in his words, he failed to offer a shred of sincerity, still acting high and mighty.

His broadsword standing against the wind, his eyes firm: “If negotiations don’t work, then let’s not negotiate. I may not be able to destroy the entire Westman Family, but killing a few hundred a year is quite simple. You’d better not underestimate my temperament. I’ve earned my moniker as the Butcher, and I don’t mind making it even more notorious.”

“We can always negotiate. I can take a step back and there’s no need for you to lower your head. Does that sound acceptable? You can leave without a problem. However, the innkeeper must pay for the face the Westman Family has lost. He must die.”

The elder took a deep breath and made a compromise. This left August Westman on the side completely dumbfounded. He had asked the elder for a revenge, but he himself seemed to bow and scrape before the Butcher. In his eyes, it was a far cry from the Westman Family’s usual strong-arming and domineering in the city.

The burly man was still unwilling, chuckling in disdain: “Is everyone in the Westman Family a coward? I’m just an insignificant King, yet your Westman Family boasts several dominators. Even before me today, you’re speaking to me in such a cordial tone. But do I have to keep this innkeeper safe?”

“Can you keep him safe for a day, let alone a year? As long as he remains in the city, my Westman Family will capture him eventually. But you need to gain experience from the outside world. Your cultivation method requires growth through killing. Surely you won’t be openly committing murder in the city. If so, the City Lord will crush you single-handedly.”

The elder stared at Shingo Butcher, enunciating each word. This statement indeed hit a sore spot for the burly man. He could only stay in the city for a day or two at most, and would have to leave eventually. Naturally, he couldn’t protect the innkeeper forever.

At this time, Logan calmly spoke, chuckling lightly: “Folks from the Westman Family, right? You’ve been negotiating with the Butcher all this while and ignored me. Isn’t that rather impolite? My opinion matters just as much.”