Chapter 121: Chapter 116: Night Banquet and Night Escape
With the ennoblement ceremony over, the atmosphere in the reception hall shifted from solemn to relaxed.
Edmond slid the magnificent ceremonial longsword back into its scabbard. The crisp sound of metal meeting sheath announced the dawn of a new era for the Gray Sea Marsh.
He turned to Velin, the weathered lines on his face softening.
"Baron Velin, as a landed noble directly under the jurisdiction of the Noble Council, you have rights, but you also have obligations."
Edmond’s voice was steady, possessing the characteristic directness of a seasoned veteran.
"Starting next year, you will need to provide the council with at least five Tier Three Peak Knights, along with their accompanying soldiers, for forty days of service annually."
"Of course, the council allows for flexibility. If you are temporarily unable to conscript enough Knights, you may pay a scutage, also known as shield money. That will be two Golden Suns per Knight per year."
Velin listened quietly, his mind racing.
’Five Tier Three Peak Knights... for his current Newly Town, that number is almost negligible.’
"Additionally, there are taxes. For every seven hundred acres of your territory, you are required to pay a land tax of five Silver Moons to the council each year. This also begins next year."
"Finally, there is the celebration tax." A helpless smile touched the corners of Edmond’s mouth. "Should the Duchy or the Empire have a major celebration, such as the enthronement of a new king... you may need to ’voluntarily’ contribute a gift of around five Golden Suns. And on a side note, our distant Emperor just loves to hold celebrations."
Velin sighed internally. ’Seems you can’t escape the custom of giving "red envelopes" no matter where you go.’
Finally, taking the opportunity, his gaze fell upon Edmond, and a thought flashed through his mind.
[View]
A panel quietly unfolded in Velin’s vision.
[Elder Remon]
[Level: Level 6 Knight—Dragon Knight]
[Bloodline: Heart of the Mountain (Golden Tier) 75%, Mixed Bloodline 25%]
[Abilities: Draconic Resilience, Earthen Power, Formation-Shattering Roar, Courage Aura, Grandmaster Horsemanship, Grandmaster Lance Arts...]
[Overall Evaluation: A battle-hardened Knight whose will and strength are in perfect harmony. A reliable ally, and a fearsome foe. Almost no room for bloodline improvement.]
Velin’s pupils contracted violently.
’Level 6, and a special class at that.’
’A Golden Tier bloodline with 75% purity.’
’And that long list of abilities.’
’This is a true powerhouse, a terrifying existence capable of suppressing an entire region on his own.’
Velin immediately resolved to build a good relationship with this Knight; hesitating even for a second would be a disservice to himself.
Meanwhile, Banaby was huddled on the bed in his room, limp with fear.
He hadn’t gone to the banquet. He didn’t dare.
The waves of laughter, the aroma of ale, and the sizzle of roasting meat drifting up from the hall below—every sound and smell seemed to mock his foolishness.
Ola’s characteristically loud voice, every "Lord Baron," felt like a slap across his face.
He was certain that the seemingly calm young man was, at this very moment, discussing with others the cruelest way to deal with him.
He couldn’t help but recall the rumors in town.
That the young Pioneer Knight had used some kind of bizarre vine to make the Level 4 Magical Beast explode from the inside out.
Banaby’s body began to tremble uncontrollably. He stared intently at the wood grain on the wall, the swirling patterns seeming to come alive, transforming into green vines that crept silently from the corners of the room toward his bed.
He didn’t want to become a desiccated corpse infested with green plants!
Fear finally overwhelmed what little sanity he had left.
’Escape! I have to escape!’
He rose quietly, hunched over like a frightened rat, and scurried out of the room.
He rummaged through the Lord’s Mansion, violently tearing off his magnificent silk official’s robes. In a panic, he changed into a set of coarse linen clothes stolen from some servant’s room, the fabric still reeking of stale sweat.
Under the cover of darkness, Banaby snuck into the stables.
In the moonlight, the warhorses belonging to the Marquis Guard were all exceptionally majestic, snorting with an air of arrogance.
He didn’t dare touch his own tall steed with its ornate saddle, afraid the beast’s movements would attract the guards.
Left with no choice, his gaze finally fell upon the most inconspicuous packhorse.
The horse was old and thin, its head drooping as it chewed hay in the manger.
Banaby untied the reins and fumbled to lead the horse out, but the old nag remained lazily motionless.
Sweating profusely with anxiety, he finally had to use both his hands and feet to clumsily scramble onto the horse’s back.
Only after repeated kicks did the old horse reluctantly start to move, carrying its pathetic "Knight" off into the boundless darkness.
「Halfway through the banquet.」
Banaby’s two personal attendants finally noticed their master was missing.
They searched the entire Lord’s Mansion, only to find his official robes crumpled in a heap in a corner of the hallway.
In a panic, one of the attendants interrupted the lively banquet to report to Velin.
"Lord Baron, Banaby... Lord Banaby is missing!"
The words had barely left his mouth when a guard also ran in, panting as he reported, "My lord! From the stables... a packhorse is missing!"
When the news broke, the clamor in the hall died down, and all eyes focused on Velin.
After hearing the report, Velin calmly picked up his wine glass, took a small sip, and then walked over to a table.
The nib, dipped full of ink, danced across the paper.
Soon, a letter, humble in its wording yet with every word a dagger to the heart, was completed in a single flourish.
He sealed the letter with wax and handed it to the Marquis’s guards, who were already at a loss.
"Your master likely suffered a sudden illness and rushed back for treatment. Please deliver this letter to Marquis Minas Hill."
He paused, then added in a polite tone as he looked at the guards.
"As for the horse, there is no need to return it. Consider it a small personal gift from me to the envoy. I hope it helps him return to Stone Bridge City as quickly as possible."
After hearing Velin’s words, Caroline couldn’t help but cover her mouth to stifle a laugh.
’That letter, those words... they’re crueler than any torture.’
’A Marquis’s special envoy, scared into a "sudden illness," so much so that he stole the worst packhorse in the middle of the night to flee for his life?’
’For the sake of his own pride, the Marquis would never let him live.’
’That ridiculous, detestable fool is utterly finished now.’
News travels faster than the wind.
By the next morning, the incredible story had reached everyone in Newly Town, and even the spies from neighboring lords who had come to scout.
The special envoy sent by Marquis Minas Hill had been scared witless in Newly Town by the newly-promoted Baron Velin.
He didn’t even dare wait for dawn, stealing the lowest-quality packhorse in the dead of night and fleeing for his life.
The incident became a huge joke, and the reputation of Baron Velin Klein spread throughout the southern region of Sword Tooth Province in the most dramatic fashion.
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