Chapter 81. Finals (1)
The last day of the agency was approaching.
The banquet was even more splendid and grand than the day before, most of the high-ranking nobles in the capital had attended, and even their children as well.
Inside the bustling banquet hall, the servants of the royal palace moved busily, carrying food and wine.
On the second-floor balcony, nobles were having cheerful conversations.
One of them looked toward the carriages approaching the banquet hall.
"They must have arrived."
The first carriage stopped.
As the coachman opened the door, Jack stepped out boldly. The same gray armor and black cloak as yesterday, a rugged attire that did not suit the banquet hall at all.
But precisely because of that, he drew more attention. Behind Jack, Count Voldiane lifted his chin and strode forward.
"Looking quite triumphant. Well, anyone would be if they had brought along the strong favorite to win the match…"
"To be honest, I envy that judgment. Last year, Count Chervennon, who was close to the Adventurers' Guild, brought the Blood Sword, and although he lost the championship, he still seized second place, didn't he? And three years ago, he even won the championship."
To win at the agency's tournament was not only a great honor, but also earned extra points in the evaluation of one's territory.
Thanks to that, Count Voldiane, who had ruled a somewhat barren land, was able to receive rewards and rapidly develop his territory over the past few years.
As a noble, it was impossible not to be envious.
"But the championship hasn't been decided yet, has it?"
"Well, that's true."
After all, there wasn't only one favorite to win.
The nobles turned their gaze to the next carriage that came.
The second, then the third, and then the fourth. One after another, the carriages of nobles who were late to attend the banquet. Among them were today's participants, and some who had been eliminated in yesterday's matches.
Luke did not come.
Well, considering he had lost in the shortest time in the history of the principality, he probably couldn't show his face out of shame.
And then finally, the carriage they had been waiting for arrived.
A luxurious carriage with golden borders.
On its side was the emblem of the House of Count Rodenmeyer.
Soon the door opened, and Verden appeared.
Instead of his usual gray robe, he wore a deep blue banquet suit prepared by Count Rodenmeyer.
The color matched well with his ashen hair and blue eyes. As the gazes poured in from all directions, Verden faintly furrowed his brow.
Following him, Count Rodenmeyer stepped out of the carriage, sweeping his gaze over the surroundings.
"Looks like a lot of stares that will be a nuisance to you. But the attire suits you rather well."
"Was it really necessary for me to wear this?"
"Until today, you are no different from the face of the count's house. In that case, I cannot allow you to appear in the look of a mere adventurer, at least not in the banquet hall."
Attire suitable for the occasion was the foundation of the social world.
In any case, when it was time for the match, he would change back into his usual clothes, so it was only for about two hours at most. Verden had no interest whatsoever in the principality's social circle, but he obediently accepted Count Rodenmeyer's suggestion.
Instead, he had secured one convenient condition.
"Then, let's go in."
Count Rodenmeyer and Verden.
The two headed toward the banquet hall.
***
Upon entering the banquet hall, Count Rodenmeyer immediately went to find other nobles.
Not only viscounts, but also counts and even higher-ranked nobles greeted him with smiling faces. From that alone, one could see that Count Rodenmeyer's position was quite high.
Left alone, Verden observed the entire hall for a moment.
Even as they conversed in their own places, glances flickered toward Verden. It seemed they were all watching each other.
Most of them were counts, and as such, approaching a commoner first would not be seen as proper.
'The pride of a noble, just as Count Rodenmeyer said.'
Verden ignored those stares and approached the central banquet table.
On it were laid out lavish dishes. Though the capital Ridron was far from the coast, all sorts of fresh seafood were neatly prepared and laid on heaps of ice.
'As expected of a banquet hosted by the royal palace, every single one of these ingredients is rare.'
Oysters with a golden sheen on their shells.
Without needing to put on gloves, he lightly lifted one with telekinesis. He sprinkled lemon juice on it and swallowed it in one bite, and not a trace of the fishy taste of seafood remained.
The more he chewed, the more sweetness spread, stimulating his taste buds.
It was quite a pleasing start.
He next surveyed the dishes prepared by the royal chefs of the principality. All of them were composed of ingredients difficult to obtain even with money, and were set neatly on spoons or skewered with small sticks for ease of eating.
With champagne served by a servant, Verden sampled the dishes one by one.
The banquet was the battlefield of the social world.
But since Verden had no need to care about society, all he could do was enjoy the food around him. And as someone already quite interested in fine cuisine, he was having a rather enjoyable time.
This was Verden's way of enjoying the banquet.
"Hmm, hmm."
At that moment, a group of young nobles approached.
Judging by their age, they must be the children of the nobles gathered here. Likely their parents had sent them instead of coming personally.
'...?'
But behind them appeared a burly noble.
"Move aside."
"Ah…! Our apologies, Count Dabirk."
Luke's employer, Count Dabirk.
The noble children loitering nearby stepped back. With a fat body and a confident stride, Count Dabirk strode up, spinning a wine-filled glass in his hand, and spoke.
"I am Count Dabirk, of a house that rules over one of the most prosperous territories among counts."
An entirely unnecessary self-introduction.
Of course, he could not simply ignore it, so Verden returned a polite formality.
"I am Asher."
"I watched the match you fought yesterday, and your magical skill is indeed as the rumors say. I will give you whatever you want, money or otherwise, so come and serve under me."
It was quite a grand proposal.
Verden pretended to ponder for a moment, then asked back.
"Anything at all?"
"Yes, anything."
Count Dabirk pointed at his necklace.
"This is the heirloom of our Dabirk family, a magic item crafted from the heart of a werewolf. It enhances the wearer's vitality, granting immunity to minor ailments and ensuring a long, healthy life. Even royalty cannot buy such a precious artifact with money. From this alone, you can tell how outstanding the wealth of our family is."
And then,
"If you enter my service, I will let you live a life above commoners. And if you wish, I will wed you to the daughter of one of my vassals, granting you the chance to become a noble of the principality."
A thoroughly authoritative and arrogant tone.
In truth, this was the average noble. Count Rodenmeyer, who prioritized ability over birth, was the exception.
Count Dabirk's gaze, brimming with confidence, showed that he had never even considered rejection.
Naturally, Verden had not the slightest thought of accepting. Nor was there any need for a polite refusal. Just one sentence would suffice.
"I will ask Count Rodenmeyer."
"What? Ro, Roden…?"
Count Dabirk's expression stiffened.
The information he had gathered until yesterday had told him clearly that Verden belonged nowhere. That he had merely been taken in by Count Rodenmeyer because of connections stretching back to Gray.
'Could it be that I misunderstood? Or… did that bastard Count Rodenmeyer make a move beforehand?'
If so, then this could become a problem.
The prestige of the Rodenmeyer house could never be dismissed. Moreover, the count himself was infamous for detesting anyone meddling with what was his.
If it were to be revealed that he had made such a proposal to a mage under that house, Count Rodenmeyer's displeasure would be no small matter.
"…Damn that Rodenmeyer."
Count Dabirk muttered a curse, just loud enough to be heard, then downed his wine in a single gulp. With his displeasure written all over his face, he abruptly turned and left.
Watching his back, Verden sipped at his champagne.
'As expected, convenient.'
Instead of merely attending quietly, the condition Verden had received from Count Rodenmeyer was to use the name of the Rodenmeyer house.
That way, no matter what proposals came his way, he had a ready excuse to decline them with a single phrase. Just as expected, it proved quite effective in preventing bothersome trouble.
A little later, other noble children approached.
At the mention of Count Rodenmeyer's name, they fled in haste.
Then a noble lady came.
Likewise, upon hearing Count Rodenmeyer's name, she quickly withdrew.
Left alone, Verden strolled leisurely through the banquet hall.
Though gazes still pressed in from every direction, no one else dared approach. Yet among them, there were a few that pricked at Verden's senses.
Shifting his eyes slightly, he saw, at a distance, a noble with black hair streaked with white staring at him.
'Not an ordinary noble, it seems.'
In that gaze, he could feel not hostility… but rather a sense of disapproval.
It was clear at a glance, with no effort to hide it. Verden had never seen this noble before, so he did not know the reason.
As he pondered this, someone came up behind him.
"You are being stared at quite fiercely. Isn't that so?"
A man whose muscular build was apparent even beneath his clothes.
On the table beside him lay more than twenty empty spoons and no fewer than eight empty glasses.
"Excuse me, but who are you?"
"Dukel. The eldest son of Marquis Ravishrun, the very man staring at you from afar."
One of the two pillars of the principality, the house of Marquis Ravishrun.
Dukel approached and extended his hand. Verden shook it.
"My name is Asher."
"Pleasure to meet you, Asher. I had heard you were no ordinary man… it was good that you came to the banquet."
Dukel lifted a spoon filled with bite-sized cheese lobster.
"Have you tried this? What do you think?"
"It was delicious. The ingredients were especially fresh."
"Of course, such dishes are made by pouring in massive sums of money. A banquet is meant to display a house's wealth and connections. But since I have such an appetite, whenever a banquet is held, everyone is busy watching me. Would you believe that two years ago I nearly emptied the royal kitchens, and His Majesty the Grand Prince had to scold me?"
Dukel laughed as he ate the dish.
And as if that were not enough, he tossed another dish into his mouth and gulped down wine as if it were water.
Yet still he carried himself with dignity, proof enough that he was a noble to the bone.
"Mmm, delicious. But tell me, why was my father staring at you like that? Did you commit some offense?"
Nothing came to mind.
They were strangers, after all.
Dukel tilted his head.
"Really? That is strange. My father is not the type to dislike someone without reason. Ah, perhaps it was because of Count Dabirk?"
"Do you mean Count Dabirk?"
"Count Dabirk is a vain noble. One who hides personal incompetence behind the stature of his house. Since the head of the family changed a few years ago, his territory has plummeted to the very bottom of the rankings. And yet, he is so cowardly that he poses little threat. He is the very image of a man who bullies the weak and fears the strong, knowing nothing of humility. My father detests such men."
One who knows no humility, hated.
Perhaps it was because of what Verden had said yesterday.
'Perhaps I should have been more careful.'
But he had no intention of correcting his words now.
Verden had no reason to curry favor with Marquis Ravishrun.
Dukel then asked a few trivial questions before leaving in search of more food. As expected from the heir of a marquis, he was quite different from the other noble children.
Time passed, and the semifinals arrived.
***
As everyone had predicted, Verden and Jack easily crushed their opponents in the semifinals.
After a short rest, and after the matches for third and fourth place were concluded, the finals began. The two stood facing each other inside the magic circle.
Jack asked in a low voice.
"Do you intend to hold back in the finals as well?"
"I have no intention of dragging it out."
Verden answered with confidence.
Even if Jack was different from his previous opponents, he was still confident.
Jack nodded.
"I see. Then I will do the same."
In that instant, the atmosphere around Jack shifted.
Not killing intent, but the clear resolve to use his full strength. He was not an opponent to be taken lightly. Verden too drew up his magic power in response.
The air changed.
The audience held their breath, and Lake gave the signal to begin.
───Kwaaang!
Unlike in the previous matches, Jack charged first.
Even from a distance, the weight of his massive movements could be felt. At the same time, Verden imbued his staff with lightning, activating the magic stored within it.
And at the moment his staff clashed with Jack's sword, he detonated the magic power.
Kwooooooooom!
The impact shook the magic circle. A blue light flashed, and Jack was pushed back several steps, yet he bore neither wounds nor even a trace of surprise.
'As expected, close combat isn't the way to face him.'
Even with Verden's full-powered melee strike, this was all he achieved.
Indeed, Jack was not one to be dealt with half-heartedly.
Verden spun his staff, taking stance.
Residual lightning crackled low, leaving afterimages along its path.
An unexpected clash right from the start.
At that dazzling opening of battle, the nobles erupted in a chorus of cheers.