Caius let out a slow breath that carried weight before finally speaking.

"Unfortunately, after losing to you in battle, I lost my skill... and with it, my title as a Chosen," he said. "That also means I’m no longer the chief of the Crimson Bastion clan."

Oh... is that so?

I didn’t react outwardly, but the pieces shifted slightly in my head as I took that in. It explained something, at least—his presence here, the lack of immediate hostility—but it didn’t make it clean.

"My shaman took over," he continued, his tone steady, though there was a faint edge beneath it. "While the graveyard was doing its work... bringing me back."

That guy.

Raghul. That was his name.

I remembered him clearly now, standing there after I’d beaten Caius, his expression just a little too satisfied for someone who had supposedly lost their chief. At the time, it hadn’t mattered enough to dwell on, but looking back now, it fit too well.

No wonder he looked pleased.

He’d been waiting for that moment.

"In fact," Caius went on, his gaze hardening slightly as if recalling it firsthand, "he tried to have me killed the moment I came back."

There was a brief pause before he gestured toward the people around him.

"But they stepped in," he added. "These ones."

"Because of them, I managed to kill a Blessed," Caius continued, "and reclaim my title as a Chosen."

That part... I noted, but didn’t dwell on it yet.

"But it didn’t matter," he finished, his voice flattening slightly. "After that, both I and everyone who stood with me were branded as fugitives."

A faint shift ran through the group at that, subtle but real.

"We’re no longer part of the clan," he said. "We don’t have one."

I let a small silence settle after that, not rushing to respond, just letting the weight of what he said sit where it was.

"That’s unfortunate," I said finally, my tone even, "but I don’t see why I should believe you."

Caius met my gaze without flinching.

"You think I’m lying."

I tilted my head slightly, not denying it.

"Wouldn’t you, if you were standing where I am?"

"I can swear an oath to be honest, if you want."

"Chief!!" Kharo’s voice cut in sharply, louder than it needed to be, the reaction immediate. "You don’t have to go that far."

The rest also showed disapproval, but Caius didn’t acknowledge anyone.

He just stood there, looking straight at me, the offer still hanging between us like it wasn’t something he intended to take back. There was no hesitation in his posture, no flicker of doubt, and that alone told me he wasn’t bluffing about this part.

And that... did shift things, even if only slightly.

But not enough.

It didn’t erase the doubt sitting in the back of my mind, and it definitely didn’t make this safe. I couldn’t afford to take risks here, not with someone like him, not with everything already on the line.

So I made it simple.

"Fine," I said, my voice steady as I held his gaze. "Swear to me right now that you’ll always tell the truth, and if you lie, you die on the spot."

There was no pause.

"I swear, in Drugar’s name, to always tell you the truth," Caius said, his tone firm, deliberate, each word placed with care. "And if I lie, I will face a slow, torturous, painful death... right on the spot, unless I reveal the truth before it completes."

The moment the last word left his mouth, I felt it.

A subtle shift.

Not visible, not something anyone without the right awareness would notice, but it was there—the oath settling into place, binding itself to intent rather than just words.

Sealed.

I exhaled lightly, but my eyes didn’t leave him.

"That’s not what I asked you to swear."

"I made a modification," he replied calmly. "With oaths like this, you need to be precise."

Tch.

I didn’t like that.

Not the adjustment, not the way he said it, and definitely not the fact that he took control of the terms instead of following them exactly as I gave them.

But even with that, the core of it still held.

If he lied, the oath would trigger. It might not be instant like I wanted, but it would start, and unless he corrected himself before it fully took effect, it would finish the job.

That was enough... for now.

"Were you truly kicked out of your clan?"

"Yes."

His answer came without delay, clean and direct.

"Are you here to retrieve the garnets?"

"No."

Again, no hesitation, no strain, nothing in his expression that suggested resistance or conflict with the oath he had just taken.

"Are you here to harm my clan?"

"No."

The same result. Consistent.

"What is your intention then?"

"To join the Emerald Midget clan as a member," he said, just as evenly as before, "along with my group."

I didn’t respond immediately. I let the words sit for a second, weighing them, then pressed further.

"Is this the only group that came? Are there others?"

"Yes, this is the only group," he replied, his tone steady, but this time he took a fraction longer, as if making sure there was no room for misinterpretation. "And no...this group, and the goblins here, are the only ones who know this location. There are no others."

I held his gaze for a moment longer after that, searching for anything that didn’t line up.

But there was still nothing. No flicker of pain, no tightening, no sign of the oath pushing back against him. If anything, he looked exactly the same as he had before—calm, composed, and entirely unaffected.

Which meant he was telling the truth.

At least... within the bounds of what he had sworn.

A small part of the tension in my chest eased, just enough for me to notice it. The edge of the adrenaline that had been building since this started began to fade, my body settling slightly now that the immediate threat didn’t seem as clear-cut as I’d assumed.

But the caution stayed.

That didn’t go anywhere.

Because even with the truth in front of me, that didn’t mean I understood everything yet.

"Can I speak on the advantages now?" Caius asked, his voice cutting in calmly, like he had been waiting for this exact moment to say it.

"Go ahead," I said, keeping my tone level, "tell me what I stand to gain from this."

Caius didn’t rush into it. He took a brief moment, like he was organizing his thoughts, then answered in the same steady manner he’d maintained since this started.

"Well...