บท 1123: Amalgamation Ⅱ

Seated upon the council seats, the goblin council members do not speak but share pointed glances at the words of Reginald Prince. Purtang, a goblin councilmember with a pointed little hat and a crooked nose narrowed his eyes into a slit. This could bode good or bad; their King must tread carefully.

Similar sentiments are shared by most of the council members except for two, master craftsmen Wulm & Kostilb. Ancient for his kind, Kostilb had practically seen and heard everything under the sun. He did not appear to be the least bit shaken by the preposterous news.

On the other hand, Wulm had met with Rowan Prince on several occasions. She did not believe the child would willingly participate in such a farce unless there was something to be won. However, she could not in good faith discard the possibility that Reginald Prince spoke the truth.

Alas despite Wulm's vehement opposition, their King had appointed Kostilb to the open seat on the council. It was a tactical move to ensure that when Ragnok took the throne, he would have a powerful ally at his side. Not even Wulm was a match, much less the elders or clan heads and other councilmembers. It was a well-thought-out move that not even the enemies of the King could protest.

Kostilb takes the opportunity to loudly blow his nose interrupting the tense atmosphere. Wulm frowns in disgust and leans away from Kostilb, who sits next to her. Being the four oldest goblin oldest goblin in the world. Kostilb had no shame to speak of.

Seeing the seething expression of Wulm, Kostilb sends a rather crooked grin at Wulm. Wulm bristles, but she cannot very well say anything to Kostilb. Kostilb out-aged her by nearly a century. She still didn't understand how the walking of bones had yet to expire!

An enraged clan head rises from his seat and shouts, "Your eminence, please permit me the opportunity to defend your honor from these preposterous insults!"

Sitting at the side, Claang, an inquisitive goblin and minor clan head wryly shakes his head. The goblin king would not be pleased at the interruption no matter how indignant they may be. It showed ill pedigree.

"SILENCE!" Grok ordered as the chamber fell into a tense silence. There is a certain coldness in his gaze settled upon Reginald Prince. "I am tempted to see you thrown out, Prince, but I will hold myself back for peace's sake!"

"I meant no insult nor sacrilege," Reginald coolly retorted as Rowan reached inside the mokeskin pouch to pull out a silver goblin-forged armband.

Rowan holds the silver goblin-forged armband high in the air. The entire gaze of the goblins focused on the silver armband. What draws their attention is the carved symbol on the armband, it is the symbol of the royal family.

Wulm's eyes widen in recognition. The armband at first glance appears simple, but it is a superb artifact crafted by a master craftsman. Among the master goblin craftsmen, Wulm could easily recognize their work. Yet this one evaded her.

Countless emotions flash across the goblins' faces until a brawny goblin draws their breath to speak. However, before they can cry out their indignation, Grok slams his fist against the throne. "Not a word," he growled. "I wish to hear what Prince has to say."

"The tale is not a lengthy one, but I require no interruption," Reginald loudly warned earning a gesture from the goblin king that promised that would be the case.

"Over a thousand years ago, a witch of a powerful line lived with her mother in the great forest next to the great goblin clan," Reginald commenced, "after the squander of the family fortune by the wastrel of the witch's father.

Many of the goblins furrow their brows. The royal family had been called the Great Goblin Clan a thousand years ago. It was not a name that would be casually known to outsiders except for goblins.

"During one of the many forays into the forest, the witch encountered a goblin by the name of Ranuk," the face of Grok Gringrotts visibly shook along with others upon recognizing the name of the firstborn son of Ragnuk, the First, (a former goblin king).

Purtang's ears perk up with great interest. He did enjoy a good tale. Though he greatly suspects it is merely a well-crafted tale.

"Despite the turbulence at that time, the two forged a bond that quickly developed into much more," Reginald steadfastly recounted. "The two star-crossed lovers wed in secret and conceived a child. Yet not long after Ranuk marched to war and perished on the battlefield against the muggle armies. The child never knew her father but grew into great power under her mother's tutelage. The child's name would resonate for centuries to come, a witch known to all as Helga Hufflepuff."

There is a stricken silence in the air as the tale seems utterly impossible. A burst of whispers engulfs the chamber. Helga Hufflepuff being a half-goblin is impossible! Much less be the daughter of the first-born son of the goblin king, Ragnuk, the first!

"Silence," Grok roared as the chamber once more fell silent. "I find your words are too hard to believe much less swallow, Prince. The sheer audacity to lie before the entirety of the goblin nation is only something a Prince would dare to do."

Yet despite the goblin kings' harsh words, Reginald Prince appeared to be as confident as ever. Sensing that the king's mind is not yet made up, Purtang clears his throat causing his pointed hat to wobble. "If I may, your majesty, may I speak?"

Seeing that the goblin king is not opposed to his speaking, Purtang eagerly continues, "Might I suggest the artifact be properly examined? Regardless of if the Prince's claims are true, the artifact is goblin forged."

Purtang's words pointedly remind those present that the artifact is a goblin forged for the royal family. Only the royal goblin family may possess a goblin-forged item with the royal family crest. No matter how the artifact came into the Prince's possession, it must be returned to the goblin king!

"Wulm and Kostilb," Grok Gringotts gestured to the silver armlet held in Rowan Prince's grasp. "Verify the claim."

"Yes, Your Majesty," Wulm and Kostilb answered, before doing as they were told.

Wulm is the first to reach Rowan and carefully takes the silver armlet from Rowan's grasp. Softly chanting in gobbledegook, Wulm begins to cast powerful magic upon the silver armlet. Her goblin magic causes the armlet to float in mid-air with sparks flying off of it.

It is a dazzling show until abruptly the armlet falls neatly into Wulm's outstretched wrinkled hand. The armlet is cool to the touch despite the sparks that had been emitted mere seconds before. It is craftmanship of the highest degree that even Wulm would have trouble replicating.

Seated among the clan heads, Claang's inquisitive eyes observe the armlet. He was from being a master craftsman, but even he could tell at a distance the armlet was a true goblin-forged artifact. Even his own master would not be able to produce such an artifact!

The goblins expectantly lean forward in their seats awaiting an answer from Wulm, a master goblin craftsman. "The armlet was forged by a true goblin master for the royal family. It is a true goblin-forged object," Wulm earnestly declared.

The goblins mostly show great relief and some measure of greed convinced that the blasphemous claim has been proven false. Yet the wiser goblins still show some wariness instead of relief. It is not quite as simple as it appears to be.

Kostilb's slanted, dark eyes twinkle a bit too much like Dumbledore's causing a wary expression to appear on Rowan and Severus's faces. "If the Prince heir's and heir-to-be, Ragnok would step forth, I would be much obliged."

"I would gladly do so," Ragnok responded rising from his perch.

While Ragnok approached them, Kostilb gestured for Severus to step closer to Rowan. The four of them form a circle as Kostilb draws a gleaming dagger from his pocket. Rowan and Severus share a wary expression. The dagger hadn't been sheathed and yet it had so easily been drawn from a robe pocket.

"Extend your hands," Kostilb instructed them.

They all obey as Kostilb begins to chant in Gobbledegook preparing to cast blood magic, "Stone born, blood born, blood shared, or blood torn, blood show yourself unto us!"

With impossible speed and nimbleness, Kostilb stabs the tip of a finger for each of them. Before they can even let out a cry of pain, blood droplets float from the tip of their finger. The blood droplets instead of being repulsed begin to intertwine in the air to form a singular blood droplet.

Rowan and Severus shared a small smile of relief as they had known it to be true, but still, that didn't mean they were nervous. They knew their grandfather must be equally as relieved even if he did not show it. After all, one can't tell how a goblin will react.

There is a stunned silence in the chamber as even Grok Gringotts gazes in disbelief at the truth of the matter before him. The grandchildren of Reginald Prince are direct kinsmen. The impossible claim is true!

The only one showing a hint of a smile is Kostilb, who grins rather cheekily at the stunned goblins' expressions. It is the kind of reaction that he openly delights in! He really must do this again some other time! It truly is delightfully wicked!