Chapter 1695 — Grimshaw

Bob’s voice carried far and wide, and had truly attracted the attention of the stadium now, who were more interested in the confrontation between the Jagged Stallion and Bob than the fight for life and limb going on in the stadium.

A conflict between the Jagged Stallions and disgruntled lawbreakers wasn’t unusual or new, though its frequency had dropped drastically lately. The Artica race had established itself as a race that placed great stock in their rules, and would not make exceptions for any power or force.

This was not a concept many were familiar with, and so had led to many, many confrontations. Now, it seemed, there was going to be yet another such confrontation. Bob, barrister and first of his name, seemed a little different, though. He did not break the rules, but he also did not seem to regard them all that much either.

The stallion seemed even more offended than before and seemed ready to blow up matters even more. Of course, Bob did not seem worried at all. In fact, he was perfectly calm and in control of the situation - a shock to the whole crew beyond what they could convey. Had he been pretending to be an idiot the whole time? Was he actually smart, and, or, competent?

Just before the steed could do anything, however, he seemed to turn behind towards the stadium, as if someone were talking to him. After a few moments, he turned and looked at Bob hatefully.

"Follow me," he said, and then turned around.

The fact that they were suddenly being led towards the stadium, after causing a scene, surprised many, though it surprised no one at all that they were being led towards the VIP section of the stadium. If some big shots were involved in this situation, then they would surely be in the VIP section.

The crew looked towards Tiny-Unicorn who, for once, conceded to Bob’s charge. They followed the steed through the crowd, all the way until they reached an open booth, filled with many unusual and intimidating races.

Longbeard’s beard trembled again, as if to let him know that he had come face to face with the origin of the terror he had been feeling. The others, too, detected that this place and these people were far from usual.

The entourage within the booth was large, each of them powerful, and each of them from a different race altogether, not that such a thing seemed to matter.

In the center there was a throne, and a being wearing entirely gold armor and a golden mask sat there, comfortably, confidently.

"Bob, first of his name, it is an honor to meet you," the being said, turning from his throne to look back at them. He even removed his mask to reveal his smiling face. "You may call me Grimshaw. Please, take a seat. I am most eager to resolve this misunderstanding between us. Your friends, of course, are most welcome."

Grimshaw snapped his fingers, and that seemed to signal the stallion to retreat, along with a few other members in the booth, giving them some form of privacy. Grimshaw summoned some chairs right beside him, and welcomed the whole crew, his smiling expression as welcoming as possible.

Yet the crew found it difficult to actually approach him, and sit beside him. There was a deterrence around him, unseen but definitely felt. It was similar to Dragons Might, and yet somehow different.

They were not pressured, nor were they suppressed. It was simply that in Grimshaw’s presence, they did not feel as though they were worthy to sit beside him. In fact, they did not even seem worthy to exist within his line of sight.

The sensation was unusual, and powerful. Within Artica, at least within the cities, it was strictly forbidden to suppress others with their auras. That is also why the whole crew had no problem standing up to the steed. Yet Grimshaw did not oppress, nor did he use his aura. It was as if his existence itself demanded such distinction.

Of course, the crew was not ordinary either, and among them there were a few who were not bothered by that unusual feeling. One of them, naturally, was Bob. Another was Goldilocks. The rest, despite their will, were even unable to step foot within the booth - as if they felt deep within their cores that they were unworthy.

Grimshaw himself never made any moves to suppress the group, and instead he remained quite cordial not only in his words, but his demeanor as well.

Since Tiny-Sparkles seemed unable to proceed, Bob stepped down and deigned to grace the booth with the honor of a personal walk from him - followed closely by a wary Goldilocks. The Drama-cat sat right beside Grimshaw, twirling his moustache, and looked up at the much larger being.

"You may elaborate," Bob said, displaying in full force his regal disposition. It was not for nothing that he was worshipped by the entire Drama-cat race. As well as the Bobblings who seemed to have not emerged from the trial. Or they did, and were transported elsewhere, not that it mattered.

"How gracious of you," Grimshaw said with a chuckle, not even a hint of sarcasm present in his voice. "The story is not too complex. You see, a short while ago I sensed the arrival of a unique being on this level. I happened to be in the vicinity, so I went over and took a look, only to find your friend the alligator."

"That’s Crystal alligator to you," Bob corrected.

"Yes, of course. Like I was saying, I stumbled upon Crystal alligator, and was immediately attracted to the mystery of its existence. Now, the slavery laws of the Artica realm are strict and far too complex, in my opinion, so I merely asked the Crystal alligator if it was willing to be my slave. In my humble opinion, it is a most gracious offer. I think your friends would also agree.

"Say, what do you guys think? If I offered you the opportunity to volunteer to be my slave, would you take it? Or would you reject such an offer?"

Suddenly, the members of the crew besides Bob and Goldilocks were hit by the strangest sensation. They felt honored. They felt like it would be an honor, not only to them but their entire race if they were to become Grimshaws slave.

This was not some kind of trick, or compulsion enacted by Grimshaw himself. It was merely the natural order of things.

Yet exactly because it was not compulsion, they were not forced. Though they felt like it would be a great honor to become a slave, they also retained the basic logic that governed their life so far - the very one that told them that becoming a slave wasn’t a good thing, and that they shouldn’t want it regardless of how excellent an opportunity it seemed.

"It... it is most certainly a tempting offer," Longbeard finally said, unable to hold on any longer.