Imaer was furious. He snatched up the battle-axe beside his seat and stormed down the steps.
The blade glinted coldly in the firelight. His eyes were bloodshot, and he looked ready to charge forward and cleave Helson in two.
"You reckless fool, you're asking for death! I'll use your blood to sacrifice to our ancestors' stone stele!"
At that moment, the treasurer, Tolkien, suddenly stepped across and blocked the way between Helson and the chieftain.
"Great Chieftain, you mustn't kill him!" he shouted at the top of his lungs. "If you kill him, you'll fall right into this human's trap!"
Imaer roared, "Move! This arrogant human dares demand that my people kneel and submit! He doesn't deserve to live!"
Tolkien did not retreat. Instead, he looked straight at the chieftain. "Can't you see it? This cunning human isn't negotiating. He's begging to die. He deliberately provoked you so that you would kill him—and then Aldo would have a perfectly legitimate reason to destroy us completely. He wants to use his own life to put a noose around our necks!"
The stone chamber instantly fell into absolute silence.
Imaer held up his battle-axe, his arm still trembling, but his feet came to a stop.
He stared fixedly at Helson. The detestable human still stood upright, his expression calm and even carrying a faint, contemptuous sneer, like a martyr who had long since prepared himself for death.
Imaer slowly lowered his battle-axe. "You mean... he wants to die?"
"Yes." Tolkien nodded. "He doesn't care whether he can return alive. What he cares about is whether the Stonemason Clan will become utterly hostile to humanity because of him. The moment you lay a finger on him, Aldo will say that we murdered an envoy and rejected peace. By then, the explosives won't merely