Inside the house, the argument continued.
Thorin's face flushed red as he shouted angrily:
"And do we Dwarves look like the kind of scoundrels who would betray their word?"
His roar made the cups on the table buzz.
"We of the Dwarf Race stand by every word we say! If we say we're going to bomb the Demon Clan, we would never aim that thing at our friends!"
Lin Mo leaned back slightly, his hands folded on the table, his expression calm.
"Elder Thorin, I trust you, but no one can see into another person's heart."
"This isn't a matter of trust. It's a matter of principle."
"A nuclear bomb that can be moved freely and detonated at any moment poses an enormous, uncontrollable risk to Great Xia. We absolutely cannot agree to that."
Their gazes clashed in midair, sparks flying.
It was as though the air around them had been sucked dry, leaving an oppressive atmosphere that made it hard to breathe.
The argument had already lasted half an hour.
It seemed heated, but both sides were actually probing each other's limits.
One wanted a trump card that could deter the Demon Clan.
The other coveted the Dwarf Clan's technology and skilled workforce and wanted to take the whole package away.
Privately, both wanted to make this deal happen.
Thorin breathed heavily, his chest heaving.
He knew Lin Mo was right.
Were their positions reversed, he would not hand outsiders a weapon capable of destroying his own city either.
But he desperately wanted Great Xia's super Forbidden Spell weapon.
The Demon Clan's all-out offensive was imminent. If he did not negotiate now, he might never get another chance.
Lin Mo looked at him and spoke slowly, breaking the deadlock.
"How about this? We both make a concession."
"You can