"Me?"
Annan pointed at himself, his face full of disbelief.
"They're not planning to invite me over, smash a cup as a signal, then have a mob of knights rush in and skewer me, are they?"
A messenger had brought unbelievable news: an invitation from the Orr Empire's Royal Palace for Annan to attend a banquet in the Imperial Capital.
"They wouldn't need to go to that much trouble to deal with you," Olmedo interjected.
"You're underestimating me. With Swaro on my left, Lilith on my right, and a Summoning Crystal against my chest, surely I could..."
Annan's confidence faded as he spoke. This was the High King. Never mind a few Legendary figures; he might not even fear a Demigod.
"My advice is to ignore it."
"I was thinking the same thing."
There were only two likely reasons the Orr Empire had sent an invitation: to demand an explanation or to make peace.
If it was the former, Annan would be walking into a trap. If it was the latter... a mere invitation fell far short of protocol.
The Tartun Empire was derided as a nation of Barbarians, but even those "Barbarians" went through a complex series of formalities handled by the Ceremonial Affairs Department when dealing with outside powers. How could one invitation settle the matter?
Besides, did the Orr Empire have any reason to make peace?
No. Free City had withdrawn from a Commercial Street, but that street belonged to the Windmill Duchy. The slap had landed on the face of the empire's lackey. Apart from its pride, the Orr Empire had lost nothing.
If Annan went running over, he might be humiliated instead—and have his own methods turned against him: invite him to dinner, cut off his head, then take him in as a dog.
"But