The newspaper was full of praise for him, a young, talented, and handsome baron, without the slightest restraint in the compliments.
Hastur set the paper down, a bit troubled. He didn't want to be so famous.
---------------------------------------
Who exactly was stirring things up behind the scenes?
Greg? That didn't seem like his style.
Glaint? He shouldn't have such connections and motivation.
It wasn't until Hastur went to Backlund University and met Professor Wayne that he realized it was Professor Wayne who had been helping behind the scenes.
After so many years of teaching, even if Professor Wayne couldn't claim to have students all over the world, he still had many, including some outstanding ones.
When the Backlund Daily learned of Professor Wayne's request, they placed news about Hastur in a prominent spot on the front page.
It shared the front page with the successful joint operation with the three Churches and the latest updates about the Dawn.
The Backlund Daily was a major paper covering all of Loen, extremely influential.
To this, Hastur could only sigh silently. After all, Professor Wayne meant well.
Sure enough, the following evening, Greg visited in person, saying that the King had heard of his brave deeds, wished to reward him, and wanted him to attend the royal banquet that Saturday.
Hastur cautiously asked, "What sort of rewards does the King usually grant?"
Greg smiled: "A promotion in title is a bit difficult, but I expect he'll grant you some land. After all, the royal family won quite a few estates from your father back then."
"..." Hastur didn't know how to describe Voltaire anymore, and at the same time he wondered, just how vast had the Campbell family's fortune been?
Greg glanced around, lowered his voice: "The Kingdom is about to begin reform. If the King lets you choose between land and gold pounds, you must choose the gold."
Hastur's spirit trembled; he asked in surprise, "Is the Kingdom going to abolish the Corn Laws?"
Greg didn't reply immediately. He sized up Hastur for a while, then sighed: "Hastur, you truly are my dearest friend. Your political sensitivity and cleverness are impressive."
'No, I only knew in advance that the Corn Laws would inevitably be repealed before Klein was born, I just wasn't sure exactly when.'
Hastur murmured in his heart, then said with a smile: "I've always cared about the future of Loen."
"A baron's title is too low, it doesn't match your intelligence and wisdom."
"Reviving the glory of the Campbell family has always been my goal."
The two discussed the situation in Loen for a while, then Hastur brought up investment matters.
The Wheel of Destiny had already begun to turn; he should make some plans early, so he could reap greater benefits in the future.
He had already repaid Glaint's debt of 2,000 gold pounds. Together with the King's upcoming reward, he would soon have a considerable sum of free capital.
Investment was the best direction. Especially with the Corn Laws soon to be repealed and reform beginning.
The golden age of traditional nobles sitting at home collecting money was ending; next would be the rise of the new age nobles who liked investment.
Such as investment in steel, banking, and coal.
Exactly what Greg and Hibbert were currently working on together.
Greg tactfully told Hastur that entering the banking sector required very strong capital, at least 100,000 gold pounds to start. Steel had a lower threshold, but still beyond Hastur's means for now.
In coal, however, if he could raise 10,000 gold pounds, Greg could help him get a foothold.
Hastur thought it over and felt that buying relevant stocks would suit him better.
With his current financial strength, he couldn't be a market maker, only a small retail investor.
Greg smiled: "That's the wisest choice. With stocks, 10,000 gold pounds can easily become 100,000, but 100,000 rarely grows into a million."
Hastur understood what he meant: Greg wanted to help him buy stocks, using insider information and maneuvers to grow his wealth quickly.
Faced with such kindness, Hastur couldn't bring himself to refuse.
In the end, he could only sigh: retail investors are destined to be harvested like leeks!
…
Saturday evening, 7 o'clock.
Hastur dressed in formal attire, sprayed on expensive perfume, and spent half an hour under the combined efforts of three maids before barely meeting Butler Neil's standards.
Attending a royal banquet was troublesome, every detail mattered.
Butler Neil had also specially warned him that tonight, at the banquet, he must display noble elegance and dignity, and never behave as casually as at home!
Recently, because of his barbarian persona, Hastur had been acting casually at home, and even in public didn't appear like an elegant, proper noble.
This made Butler Neil very worried about the royal banquet tonight.
Hastur felt the butler's worries were valid.
Royal banquets were the most rule-bound and tedious gatherings in Loen's aristocratic circle, just what suited his barbarian roleplay.
It was a good opportunity to accelerate potion digestion.
But he would try to do it discreetly, so as not to cause an uncontrollable mess.
He knew well that to play the barbarian, he needed to be bold and fearless, disregarding rigid rules and order to digest the potion better.
But in such a setting, being too unruly would easily drag his noble reputation into the gutter.
He could only adapt to the situation as best as possible.
Slower was better than causing a disaster.
At 7:30, Hastur arrived at the venue of the royal banquet.
The place was much like his suburban Aster Manor, an expansive estate. The only difference was that this one was in the center of Backlund, not the outskirts.
Hastur's arrival drew many eyes. With the Backlund Daily article, many nobles now knew of him as the Campbell heir.
Combined with the aura of the famous Voltaire, he naturally became a focus of attention.
Hastur maintained a proper smile, scanned the crowd, and spotted Viscount Glaint, also attending tonight's banquet.
He raised his wine glass and walked over.
Glaint smiled and raised his own glass, lightly clinking it with Hastur's. "Hastur, I heard the King intends to reward you tonight."
"Perhaps."
Hastur didn't continue on that topic. Instead, he and Glaint went to a quiet corner, where he felt much more relaxed.
"Hastur, your temperament won't do. As a qualified noble, learning to socialize is important."
Seeing Hastur unmoved, Glaint went on: "Take Miss Audrey for example, she dislikes noisy parties too, but whenever she attends, whether in manners or in conversation, she is perfect."
"You're right."
Hastur nodded, then walked toward the crowd with his wine glass, only to circle around them and retreat to a corner, sipping wine and observing this so-called noble elegance.
"..."
Witnessing this, Glaint froze for a while, then helplessly returned to the crowd, skillfully socializing with familiar nobles.
Naturally, Audrey was also invited tonight. She arrived relatively late, around 8:20.
Her entrance drew a wave of attention, and under her cover, Hastur took the chance to sample the evening's desserts.
As expected of royal banquet, the taste and texture of the desserts were top-notch, hard to compare their excellence.
He hadn't eaten much, so if he sampled more, he could probably rank the dozens of desserts served tonight.
Amid the crowd's admiration, Audrey noticed Hastur off to the side, leisurely savoring desserts.
'Mr. Hastur clearly doesn't belong in the same world as the other nobles. Hmm, he seems to like desserts? Especially that chocolate cake, he's tasted it three times.'
Audrey conversed gracefully with other nobles, but when free, glanced at Hastur.
"I'll try it too."
She went to the chocolate cake, took a small spoonful, and tasted it silently.
Soft on the tongue with a touch of bitterness, then a mouthful of fragrance, followed by sweetness flowing endlessly from the bitterness.
The texture was rich, sweet but not too sweet, the slight bitterness adding flair. It was indeed much better than usual.
She sampled another spoonful, then left, one shouldn't eat too much of the same dish at a banquet.
Otherwise, it would seem uncultured.
By the lakeside, Hastur was quietly admiring the moon's reflection on the water.
"Baron Campbell, you're even more handsome than the papers described."
A middle-aged man of about thirty-five approached, smiling, wine glass in hand.
His eyes measured Hastur up and down like a ruler.
The unabashed look was like appraising a finely packaged commodity, filled with greed and repulsion.
Hastur frowned: "And you are?"
"Viscount Chelf Barren!"
The middle-aged noble was clearly proud of his name.
"..."
Hastur had no desire to talk to him. He said a polite line and was about to leave.
Chelf blocked him, leaned close, and whispered: "If you're willing to follow me, I can help you restore the Campbell family's glory."
Hastur stopped, looked him over calmly: "Say that again?"
"In these circles, young and handsome nobles like you are a very scarce resource."
"Thank you for the compliment."
Hastur smiled. Just as Chelf, full of smugness, was about to continue, Hastur grabbed him by the throat and lifted him up.
Under Chelf's terrified gaze, Hastur tossed him into the artificial lake. With a splash, his obese body hit the water, sending ripples across the surface.
"You'd better cool your head down there."