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"Before that, I shall say this once more-if you came only to make the acquaintance of the Giants, your task is complete. You may sail home now."
No one in the hall moved.
Leave after presenting gifts and exchanging barely a few words? No faction would be willing to accept that.
The Giant King had only mentioned it in passing. Whether these tiny people stayed or left, lived or died, had nothing to do with them.
"Since you have all chosen to stay..."
The Giant King clapped his palms together. "Then-"
Footsteps poured in from the surrounding passageways.
Many Giants in plain cloth garments filed inside. Their muscles were solid, their gazes steady. They were clearly all warriors.
Each carried either chunks of roasted Sea King meat or wooden barrels filled with strong liquor.
The fare might have been coarse, but there was certainly enough of it.
"Eat your fill."
"Drink your fill."
The smell of grease and charcoal filled the hall.
Rossi accepted the platter of roasted Sea King that the Giants called "small"
-which was actually enough to fill ten stomachs-and set it on the wooden table.
Fat dripped from its crisp, charred skin, spreading dark stains across the tabletop.
"Let's fill our stomachs first."
His voice was calm.
The lavishly dressed nobles around him sat stiffly. Some kept wiping their foreheads, while others stared at the meat on their plates without touching it.
Unease hung in the air, like something invisible crawling over their skin.
Gion tore off a piece of meat, grease coating her fingertips.
She surveyed the powerful or lean, hardened figures around her and pressed her lips together.
"What form do you think it'll take?"
Rossi chewed, his Adam's apple bobbing. "One-on-one, a free-for-all, or last one standing-any of those works."
Unless the