A Novel Concept - A death a day, MC will live anyway!-Chapter 353: Social Skills and Land Owner

After a sleepless night pacing over Kazuki’s condition, Priam finally exhaled in relief when Lena gave the green light. He hesitated, hands wringing together, then stepped forward with a guilty expression.

“About yesterday… I’m sorry.”

“Injuries come with training,” Kazuki replied. Lying in his bed, the hoplite looked pale. “To be honest, there’s a silver lining. I should have unlocked an ideal prerequisite for a piercing resistance.”

“That could be a game changer,” Priam admitted. “How do you feel?”

“Not bad, thanks to the drugs. Though I can still feel traces of your Aura in the wound.”

“Fuck. I tried to purge it all, but I don’t have enough control yet—”

“It’s better this way,” his friend interrupted. “Micro II lets me isolate that foreign energy to study it. I’m hoping it’ll help me develop my own Aura someday.”

Hyshana arrived shortly after, and Priam left the hoplite in his wife’s care. Exhausted from the day and sleepless night, he retreated to his cabin and slept until noon. He still had bags under his eyes when he woke as sleeping outside his usual cycle left him unrested.

After a dip in the cold river to fully wake up, he examined Promesse. At first glance, the weapon seemed flawless, but a closer inspection revealed a structural weakness at its core. The next hard impact would shatter it.

Annoyed by his discovery, Priam went searching for Rohan. With Kazuki injured, he could no longer afford to have a wild card roaming free in Oasis. An hour later, he stood atop Log-a-rhythm with the Aelbe.

“I can feel my vacation’s over,” smirked the tribesman.

“Afraid so. With the second Reunion on the horizon, we’re shifting into full training mode. I might not have time to discuss a trade alliance later.”

“Not to mention the Tribal Tournament,” reminded the cat-boy.

“That too.”

“You don’t sound thrilled.”

“The tournament seems more like a show than a necessity. With our trade partnerships and the Fallen’s presence, I doubt your tribes would try to crush Oasis. Is our sovereignty really at risk?” Priam asked casually. At the end of the day, it was the principal reason they joined the tournament.

“Not in the slightest,” Rohan replied, idly stroking the polished wood of his chair. “But the recognition of our local tribes doesn’t mean squat to the Knaya Empire.” He smiled when Priam raised a curious brow. “Everything around us belongs to the Wandering Islands, a region of Elysium under the rule of Empress Eluva. A true Immortal.”

“I know.” During Back in Time, Sphinx’s seventh Tribulation had summoned a clone of the elven ruler. Even limited to Tier 0, she had one-shot Sumstreh. Eluva was the kind of monster Priam had no desire to piss off. “What’s that got to do with your tournament?”

“The winner’s territory will be acknowledged by our three clans, but that claim won’t automatically be recognized by the Concepts. To unlock certain privileges as a Land Owner, sovereignty must be validated by the System.”

Priam controlled his expression to hide his surprise, but inside, he was boiling. Could it be that [Land Owner] refused to sync with his Noble Title for a similar reason?

Unaware of Priam’s thoughts, Rohan continued. “Of course, there are quests for that—defending our territory against the Necro Waves would eventually lead to the same recognition. But the bigger the area to defend, the greater the threat—and the heavier the price in blood. Why gamble lives when we can secure a Royal’s approval?”

“A Prince?”

“Or higher. The reason we’re still holding the tournament despite the presence of the Fallen is that an elite from the Empire—a true Tier 5—is coming here in a month. Originally, he was just supposed to certify the result, but he agreed to referee the duels.”

Priam remained silent for a few seconds before summoning a cold smile. “I find it hard to believe that a Tier 5 would make the trip out to such a remote corner just to babysit some matches.”

“Oh? Then why do you think he’s coming?”

Priam leaned forward. "To execute a renegade of the Empire, the heir of a minor god sentenced to death."

Knaya’s justice didn’t take kindly to a sentence left unfulfilled. The Empire’s prestige demanded Sumstreh’s death, and Priam was sure the three clans had sold it out.

Rohan returned his smile. “Nice hypothesis. I have another one: maybe the Empire is curious about the new generation of Champions.”

This fucker!

Priam realized he had just lost a round in a game he hadn’t even known he was playing. Before Back in Time, there had been no whispers about the Empire officially recognizing tribal lands. This was new—and concerning.

The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

Back in the old timeline, the clans had a choice: either tip off the Empire and earn immediate sovereignty recognition after Sumstreh’s execution, or kill the Fallen themselves and harvest fragments of his internal world’s fulcrum to aid in Tiering up. They’d chosen the latter because I had told them where the lair was—they had been the hunters. In this timeline, they had no clue where the enemy was: now, they were the prey. Rather than live in fear, they had decided to invite the Empire to do the job for them.

None of this worked in Priam’s favor. Not even close. If someone else took out Sumstreh, neither he nor his allies would reap the rewards of the Seraphic Quest. And the arrival of a Tier 5 from the Empire? That was a double-edged sword. Best case, his [Land Owner] Title would become stronger, reinforcing his local dominance with territorial bonuses. Worst case, the elf would decide that Champions were a variable the Empire could do without.

“I see I’ve given you something to think about,” Rohan said.

“Hum,” Priam exhaled, dragging himself back into the moment. “Right. We were talking about trade. Here’s my offer—Oasis takes a ten percent cut on every sale and purchase made at Ymir’s Sun Auctions.”

Rohan blinked, then burst out laughing. “Sorry, but… Not all our merchants are equal, and a flat ten percent tax favors the wealthiest.” Seeing Priam’s confusion, he elaborated, “They’d buy in bulk and sell at a loss to bankrupt their competitors, which would eventually lead to a monopoly.”

“The rich get richer. Story as old as time. Not saying that’s good—but that’s your problem, not mine.”

“If a merchant abuses the system, our council has to step in—which leads to even more issues because our feline instincts don’t exactly mesh well with rules.”

“Yeah, I noticed.”

Rohan just smiled. “Political instability would disrupt our economy—and by extension, yours. If we trade, it’s in your best interest for our tribe to flourish, right?”

“I guess. You want to fix problems before they happen; that’s fine by me. So, specifically, what are you suggesting?”

“A progressive scale with different tax brackets based on net profits, not just gross revenue. That way, we account for margins across different industries—”

One minute later, Priam raised a hand to stop the stream of incomprehensible words. “Alright, stop. I get the idea. Really. Still, you’re late: I’ve already told the other tribes Oasis takes ten percent. If I make exceptions for you…”

“Don’t worry about that, they’ll want to renegotiate after the tournament.”

“How can you be sure?”

“You talked with two warriors. They were there to gauge you, not sign contracts.Truth is, they don’t know the first thing about this kind of stuff.”

“And you do?”

“I have to. If my father dies before me, I’ll become the chief of the tribe.”

“I guess ruling isn’t just about having the biggest fists.”

Rohan burst out laughing. “You misunderstand me. I’m not honing my bartering skills just to be a better clan leader!”

“No?”

“Only in part. Mostly, I’m building charisma and social resistances. I refuse to become a Sword Myth just to sell my soul to the first Tier 4 merchant with a silver tongue.”

“Scared of merchants?”

“As you should. Social skills are powerful, dude.” Rohan narrowed his eyes. “My first girlfriend dumped me for a musician. If my dad hadn’t assured me otherwise, I’d swear that bastard used mind skills on her.” He shrugged. “He just made her fall in love with some serenades. If you ask me, that’s worse than brainwashing. The shit we do for love…”

“A social skill and a mind skill may aim for the same thing—warping someone’s judgment—but the first doesn’t override free will.”

“Society accepts flirting but condemns hypnosis because the latter bypasses consent?” Rohan snorted. “Ask your Shadow about her rare-tier seduction skill. With her high charisma and hot body, she could make a hunter betray his clan in five minutes. Now imagine what a mid-tier enchantress could do.”

Priam recalled stories Lasha, the Mercenary Casino manager, had shared with him. According to her, more than a few wars had been ignited by the schemes of a seductress or a seducer. It only took imagining Helen of Troy blessed by the System to understand the kind of destruction such a woman could unleash.

“I believe you.”

“Perfec—”

“In fact, I believe you so much that I’m not negotiating with you,” Priam interrupted with a smirk. “I’m a rookie when it comes to trade, and you’d skin me alive.”

“Jasmine, go fetch Myuri, please.”

Fifteen minutes later, Rohan was frowning. It was almost comical to see his feline charm completely fail before the former slave. His commercial arguments were parried one after the other, each failure deepening his grimace. Myuri had been trained to manage an estate, and her foundation in economics was rock solid.

Priam listened to the duel from start to finish. Sooner or later, he would need to develop social resistances like Myuri’s [Shame Resistance]. Until then, expanding his knowledge through these kinds of verbal duels was excellent training. 𝙛𝓻𝒆𝒆𝒘𝙚𝓫𝙣𝙤𝒗𝙚𝓵.𝙘𝙤𝙢

Myuri helped herself to a drink four separate times during the long exchange. Unlike blades, words could clash for hours.

“He’s gone,” said Priam, sensing the young master stepping past Log-a-rhythm’s boundary. He turned to Myuri. “Thanks for today. Your help was invaluable. I hope it wasn’t too much trouble?”

The former slave gave a small bow before replying. “Not at all. In fact… I enjoyed it.”

She didn’t specify if she meant standing up to a man or fighting with her own weapons—her words—and Priam didn’t press her. Instead, he asked a simple question:

“Would you like to become Oasis’s Minister of Finance? A grand title, but you know what I mean.”

“M–Me?”

“You’re the best fit for the job. By far.”

“But, I’m…”

“Competent?” offered Priam. He smiled. “Forget your old chains. The only question is: would this position make you happy?”

“Yes,” she answered, her voice more confident than he had ever heard from her.

“Then congratulations! We’ll discuss your salary tomorrow.”

Once Myuri had left, Priam joined Jasmine to resume his training. Later that evening, after confirming Kazuki’s recovery would take time, he paid a visit to Rose to study runes. For once, he was the one giving advice rather than receiving it. Still, teaching was a great way to learn, and by the end, his head was full of novel ideas.

Just before bed, Priam didn’t forget to trigger [He Who Eludes Death] to grind his resistances and clear his mind. Perhaps because the day had been more mental than physical, when sleep came, Priam dreamed of magic.

And so, a month passed.

Next arc already complete on Patreon if you want to find out what happens next!

/ANovelConcept