Chapter 42: Riversian

"They stole our technologies, and now they are arguing that we are from the same race? What kind of Uruk turd is that?"

A composed yet masculine lizardman sat within the council chamber, his expression usually restrained, but his eyes were bloodshot with barely contained rage. His fingers tightened around the armrest as he stared toward the messenger standing before him, the report in his hands only fueling the anger that had been building within him for days.

The Forestians had once shared a common ancestry with the Riversians, but that history had long since become little more than an excuse for both sides to demand things from one another, and Siar the Second had grown increasingly intolerant of their claims that the two settlements should share everything simply because they belonged to the same race.

"They even kicked our people out back then. Tell the griffon to send a message to them. Tell them to go fuck somebody’s tree."

The messenger lowered his head slightly, recording the command without questioning it. Siar’s anger was understandable, especially among those who still remembered the old conflicts between the two lizardman settlements.

The Riversians had developed their own technologies, traditions, and systems over generations, and many within the capital considered those achievements the result of their ancestors’ sacrifices. The idea that another settlement could simply demand access to those advancements because of their shared ancestry was viewed by many as an insult rather than an invitation to cooperation.

Several days later, the griffon messenger returned from the Forestian territory carrying another piece of parchment. The message was immediately brought before the leadership, where a young lizardman stepped forward and unfolded the paper before reading its contents aloud.

"Back in the old days, our ancestors lived harmoniously with one another. Do you truly want to be the one who breaks that peace?"

The young lizardman paused before continuing.

"We are of the same race. We should care for one another and share what we have."

The final sentence caused Siar’s expression to darken.

He abruptly stood from his seat and reached for his sword, his movements sharp enough that several of the attendants immediately became alert. His hand wrapped tightly around the hilt, and for a moment it seemed as though he might actually leave the chamber and confront the Forestians himself.

"Siar the Second, please calm yourself. They are provoking you so that the other races will see us as the aggressors."

Another lizardman spoke from nearby, his body showing obvious signs of old age. His scales had dulled with the passage of time, and his posture lacked the strength of his younger years, yet the authority in his voice remained unquestionable.

Siar remained silent for several moments before releasing a heavy exhale and slowly loosening his grip on the sword.

"You are right."

He returned the weapon to its sheath while shaking his head.

"But this is still absurd."

The tension in the chamber gradually diminished as Siar returned to his seat, though the irritation in his voice remained unmistakable. Rather than allowing the dispute with the Forestians to consume the rest of the meeting, he shifted his attention toward the other matters concerning Riversian.

"Now, tell me the other matters regarding our people."

"Affirmative."

The assistant stepped forward and began reading the latest report. "Our trade with the dwarves has increased slightly. They have not only begun purchasing more of our goods, but some of their merchants have also started directly supplying us with raw materials. Our food production has increased significantly as well, following the recent invention created by the great inventor Wias."

Siar leaned back slightly.

"It seems our investment in Wias is paying off."

The Riversian government had spent considerable resources supporting inventors and craftsmen who could improve the settlement’s standard of living, and Wias’s agricultural innovations had proven particularly valuable. Food shortages had become increasingly rare, and the expanding population could now be supported without placing as much pressure on the surrounding lands.

"Now, how about the immigrants?"

The assistant immediately turned toward the next section of the report.

"Absolutely. Following the recent attack by the werewolves, the remaining humans who survived the incident came to our settlement seeking assistance. Approximately three hundred of them have been accepted into Riversian, and based on our current estimates, they should begin contributing to the settlement’s economy by next month."

Siar nodded."Three hundred humans."

He briefly considered the number before continuing.

"There have been many attacks by those werewolves over the past decade. Is this caused by that one man?"

"Yes. According to our Shadow Squad, the attacks are being orchestrated by a single individual known as Sebastian Flyde. He organized the fractured werewolf race and has also been responsible for organizing a series of massacres that he refers to as the ’Fiesta.’"

Siar’s expression became more serious. "Are they currently a threat to us?"

"They may become a serious threat in the future, but at the moment, their attacks are regarded more as recurring monster invasions than an organized military threat to Riversian itself."

Siar gave a slow nod as he absorbed the information. The werewolves were dangerous, but compared to the growing tensions with the Forestians, expanding trade with the dwarves, and the increasing number of humans settling within Riversian, they remained only one problem among many.

"Thank you for your report. You may go now."

The assistant bowed before leaving the chamber, leaving Siar alone with his thoughts. He slowly walked toward one of the enormous windows overlooking the capital and rested a hand against the stone frame. From this height, nearly the entirety of Riversian’s main capital could be seen.

Three massive layers of stone walls surrounded the settlement, each one built to provide additional protection around the heart of the civilization. Beyond those walls stretched thousands of houses of varying sizes, some belonging to wealthy families while others housed ordinary workers, craftsmen, merchants, and soldiers. Roads connected the districts together in an increasingly complex network, while smoke from workshops and kitchens rose gently into the sky.

Riversian had changed dramatically from the settlement Odir had once founded.

What had once been a small gathering of lizardmen had grown into a sprawling capital filled with thousands of lives, supported by agriculture, trade, inventions, and the labor of generations who had continued building upon the foundations left behind by their ancestors.

The name Odir was still spoken throughout the city, not merely as the name of an ancient ruler, but as the individual who had established the first foundations of the civilization now standing before Siar’s eyes.

Siar remained at the window, quietly looking over the enormous city while the evening light slowly descended across the rooftops.

"May the great Odir guide us."

The words left his mouth almost as a whisper, but the reverence behind them was unmistakable. For Siar, Odir was no longer simply an ancestor from ancient history. He was the symbol of what the lizardmen had once been, what they had become, and what they could still become if the generations of Riversian continued carrying his legacy forward.