Chapter 1132: 509: Shaless Lanling! Acting
Lanling was surprised by this sudden question, yet not surprised!
Not surprised, because Lanling had already anticipated this outco. After all, his military achievents would inevitably appear before Constantine as precise, undeniable figures. Following the unparalleled shock, Constantine would naturally weigh the interests behind this.
Surprised, however, because Lanling knew how much Constantine disliked him. Would he be willing to suppress his disdain and genuinely try to win him over?
Now, it was Lanling’s turn to respond.
“Of course I’m willing. I dream of marrying Miss Ninian,” Lanling answered without hesitation, direct and forthright.
He wasn’t a fool. Why would he pass up the chance to spend every day with a beauty?
Moreover, this would elevate his own power and, most importantly, grant him ample ti to regain his footing.
After all, his martial arts skills were still far from adequate.
Yet, with his understanding of Constantine, things would undoubtedly not be this simple.
Seeing Lanling so easily agree, Constantine’s eyes lit up. He enthusiastically patted his back and exclaid, “Good, good! Being able to welco you as my son-in-law is like adding wings to a tiger! Sit, sit!”
He had already prepared a delicate banquet.
Lanling sat down without ceremony and began eating heartily.
Since his rebirth, his als had been abysmal, and he hadn’t tasted refined delicacies in a very, very long ti.
Constantine gazed at him warmly, no trace of stinginess in his hospitality. He poured him wine with fervor, but after pouring two cups, he called out, “Bring Nini here!”
Very quickly, Ninian stepped in.
Her face was very composed, though her gaze held a touch of complexity. The task of pouring wine was promptly handed over to her.
Constantine said, “Lanling, why don’t you repeat what you just said in front of Nini?”
Lanling didn’t hesitate to wrap an arm around her slender waist and pinch it lightly, remarking, “I am willing to marry Miss Ninian.”
The action caused Constantine’s eyes to twitch slightly, but his smile remained unchanged.
Ninian’s figure stiffened, her feelings indescribable, though inwardly, she cursed him fiercely as a bastard.
Lanling, you’re absolutely shaless, taking liberties without hesitation. If Constantine weren’t here, your hand wouldn’t just be on my waist—it’d be either higher or lower!
“This is wonderful! Today is the happiest day of my life,” Constantine remarked with a grin. “Ling, I’ll call you Ling—surely you don’t mind?”
“Of course not,” Lanling replied.
He couldn’t help but reflect—for better or worse, character truly shaped destiny.
The Chieftain Constantine before him possessed wisdom, cunning, and remarkable ability—top-notch qualities in those areas, except for patience.
In everything he did, Constantine lacked patience. Whether winning over soone’s favor or alienating soone, he always ca across as impulsive, often wearing his emotions on his sleeve. The key flaw was his impatience—when trying to win soone over, he’d hurry the process, leaving no room for natural progression.
If this were a Human Kingdom warlord, once the marriage was set, he would first have his daughter employ beauty’s charm to captivate Lanling.
Then, small banquets every few days, grand banquets every five, would deepen Lanling’s connections.
Once the emotions were firmly in place, he might then start calling him Ling or sothing similar.
But Constantine wasn’t like that. When he extended goodwill, he expected it to be accepted imdiately so he could move to the next stage—utterly lacking patience.
Of course, it wasn’t that Constantine didn’t understand these principles. It was simply his nature.
Take, for example, how during the fight to motivate a group of young warriors, he’d proclaid that the one who achieved the greatest rit would marry his daughter, Ninian. Yet, in the end, he had obviously cheated, never really intending to marry his daughter off—this fully displayed his opportunistic tendencies.
“Now then, Ling…” Constantine raised his wine cup. “On this land, Foreign Tribespeople are always subject to contempt and exclusion. As my son-in-law, I naturally won’t let others look down on you. So, I’m willing to pay a great price to help you change your tribe.”
“Change my tribe?” Lanling asked in surprise.
“Yes, change your tribe!” Constantine replied. “You see, across thousands of miles all around, hundreds of clans are essentially of one race, the descendants of the ancient Rakshasa Tribe. All outsiders are subjected to rejection. But the Barbarian King has a powerful Shaman who can help soone change their tribe—he can transform you into one of the Rakshasa Tribe.”
Lanling asked, “Will my body change? Will my bloodline change?”
“No, your bloodline won’t change,” Constantine said. “Only your physical form. You’ll grow the tail of a Rakshasa Tribesperson, while your face will remain the sa—except your pupils will enlarge and your nose will grow longer. Once the transformation is complete, however, you won’t be discriminated against anymore. Of course, transforming your tribe requires considerable expense—it will consu a substantial portion of our clan’s resources. But for you, I’m willing to do this.”
Lanling bowed imdiately and said, “Thank you, Chieftain.”
Constantine continued, “Furthermore, once you beco my son-in-law, you’ll naturally command the elite forces of the clan. You won’t be leading that ragged group of Foreign Tribe Army anymore. You’ll need to sever ties with the Foreign Tribe Army—for you’ll be a noble Rakshasa Tribesperson now. As for the Foreign Tribe Army, I’ll leave it to Du Yan!”
In that instant, Lanling’s heart shuddered.
While Constantine might lack patience, his cunning was truly first-rate.
No matter what he did, he always sought to maximize his advantage.
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