Chapter 40: The Banquet

Marquis Ed arrived just in time to stop Aurora’s conservative reactionary move, letting the tailor use his professional judgment to make her clothes.

The final product looked almost identical to the tailor’s original design, leaving Aurora sullen.

The only change she managed to wrangle was closing the neckline.

How could anyone see that area!?

Aurora looked at the tailor’s sample image. It was indeed beautiful. Amethyst-like eyes paired with a purple-black dress, the waist cinched sharply by a wide leather belt. She looked both cool and alluring.

But she couldn’t be happy.

She felt like a walking display mannequin.

At least the clothes weren’t ready yet. They wouldn’t be delivered until the hunting camp was set up, so she could still wear thick clothes for a few more days.

However, compared to such trivial matters, there were several things that actually made her happy.

First, the investigation.

In hidden corners unnoticed by any big shots, the guild’s spies had already traced most of the low-level distributors of “Happy Water” in the civilian district on the right bank of Frania. Following the thread, they had also found several mid-level dealers and transit warehouses.

As it turned out, the best way to catch a crook was to use another crook.

The underworld lowlifes weren’t wary of the guild at all. In fact, they paid protection fees to the guild.

The only pity was that these people were local agents who got their stock from higher up. They weren’t worth arresting.

Following the trail from these small fry, they found several mid-level dealers and transit warehouses.

The only pity was that all these people were local agents, with their supply coming from a higher level.

And that higher level remained hidden in the shadows.

The goods entered the city through secret underground passages unknown to the guild, passed through the guild’s control zone with a nod, and then slipped out of control.

Considering the dealers’ restocking frequency, there must be a secret distribution center between this point and the mid-level dealers. Without taking out that center, killing any number of dealers would be useless.

So Aurora asked Keen to send a message for the guild to keep watching and not stir up trouble. At the same time, she had all the identified strongholds, warehouses, and dealer locations marked on a map of Frania.

She stared at the map covered in dots for a while.

Mm, no obvious pattern for now.

Forget it, she would deal with it after the hunt.

In addition, she had made good progress in improving her personal strength.

Specifically, using the two days of travel, she and Vapgis had made twenty Fireball scrolls.

One Fireball had the power of about a 105mm high-explosive shell.

Twenty fireballs that could be fired in succession without consuming the caster’s mana because they were scroll-based. That was roughly equivalent to a Type 15 light tank.

With that firepower, she could definitely defend herself. Even Marquis Ed couldn’t take that many big fireballs.

Also, there was the development of the Message spell.

Using a Message scroll required a clear mental image of the target to lock on successfully. Aurora spent this time getting used to it with the others.

She made sure that any one of the five of them, herself, Vapgis, Juliet, Keen, and Balian, could tear open a Message scroll and accurately send twenty-five characters to any of the other four.

Gradually, time passed.

They arrived at the hunting grounds.

The camp was set up on a flat hill at the edge of the royal hunting grounds. Tents stretched out in rows, banners fluttering, looking like a small temporary town from afar.

But the camp wasn’t fully ready yet.

The advance craftsmen and hunters were still busy on the outskirts, clearing shrubs, setting up fences, and searching for game tracks.

Following past practice, these preparations would take at least three or four more days.

King Louis de Gaulle clearly wasn’t concerned with such trivialities.

He was bored out of his mind, throwing banquets in the main tent every day, feasting and drinking, calling friends and toasting with nobles of all stripes.

Marquis Ed had quite a few complaints about this.

The Crown Domain’s refugees hadn’t even been settled yet, and His Majesty was already being extravagant, and with money borrowed from Queen’s family, the Duchy of Hermes.

But what could be done? They had advised him, to no avail. When pressed, he only borrowed more and said this was money he specifically borrowed for the competition, not disaster relief funds.

However, Ed was surprisingly enthusiastic about Aurora attending the banquet.

“Go meet some young people, make some friends,” he told her.

The implication: if you could make some normal friends your age, you wouldn’t be either rotting at home or going out causing trouble and nearly getting yourself killed.

Aurora declined three times.

The first time, she said she wasn’t feeling well.

The second time, she said her clothes weren’t nice.

The third time, she directly claimed she had social anxiety.

Ed countered each excuse: “I saw you jumping around just fine,” “Didn’t you just have new clothes made?” and “You have social anxiety? You even scolded the queen.”

Finally, Aurora reluctantly changed into that purple-black witch outfit, accompanied by Balian, all dressed up, and went to the banquet.

As she lifted the tent flap, a wave of heat mixed with the smell of roasted meat fat, ale, and spices hit her.

The tent was brightly lit, long tables piled with all kinds of dishes. Dozens of richly dressed noble men and women stood or sat, clinking glasses and laughing, the noise making the banners at the top of the tent tremble.

Aurora scanned the crowd and was instantly locked onto the most eye-catching figure.

King Louis de Gaulle of Franc, sitting in the main seat, holding half a roast chicken in his right hand and a overflowing glass of red wine in his left, surrounded by a group of pale-faced young nobles with fancy beards.

He was bragging.

“I tell you, back then, your Uncle Ed and I led a hundred cavalry charging into two or three thousand Imperial infantry. We killed a bunch, and another bunch. Old Ed was scared. I told him, don’t worry, watch me…”

He took a big bite of chicken, still chewing as he continued, chicken grease and wine smeared all over his beard, glistening in the candlelight.

“, I charged right at the front and shattered the Imperial army!”

The young nobles let out impressed gasps.

Uh.

Very, informal.

Ed told Aurora and Balian to enjoy themselves.

He himself had to fulfill his duties as Prime Minister, pulling the ministers of the Royal Council for a working dinner.

So Aurora wandered bored at the edge of the crowd, looking for sweets.

Balian followed behind her, his eyes fixed on Aurora’s back. Aurora occasionally ate some small desserts, while Balian didn’t touch a thing.

Then she saw the queen.

More accurately, she heard the queen, because the loudest noise in the whole tent came from her location.

Aurora habitually glanced over, then quickly turned her head back.

“Don’t look.”

Balian was curiously craning his neck in that direction, but Aurora kicked him in the shin.

“Turn around! Quickly!”

Balian jerked back and obediently averted his gaze. “What’s wrong?”

“Why ask so many questions? Less looking, less anger.”

Because Queen Margaret’s outfit tonight was a bit too much.

A silver dress, extremely thin fabric, almost no function of “covering.” It was more like it was hanging on the curves of her body rather than worn. She had a white fur draped loosely over her shoulders, but it was worn as if it wasn’t, it sagged loosely, one side slid down exposing her entire shoulder and back without a care.

Wouldn’t moving around cause a wardrobe malfunction?

Sister, are you out here selling yourself?

You’re setting a bad example for the kids!

This blue-haired, pointy-eared half-elf queen was clearly aiming to be the center of attention tonight, and she succeeded, at least, among the male nobles, seventy percent of their eyes were on her.

Doesn’t the king care at all that his wife is walking around dressed like that? There are men staring at your wife, Your Majesty!

Aurora sneaked a glance at the king.

His Majesty was telling a third group of young nobles about his heroic deeds on another battlefield. He had already switched to his second roast chicken and was completely oblivious to the queen’s situation.

As it turned out, His Majesty Louis preferred bragging about his military exploits to young men over his own woman.

On the other hand,

Aurora’s gaze inadvertently swept past the queen’s side and noticed a tall figure standing always two steps away from that half-elf noblewoman.

Full plate armor, silver-white, gleaming coldly in the dim light of the tent.

His visor was off, revealing a handsome face. Brown short hair, green eyes, sharp features, a defined jawline. Even standing still, he exuded a compelling pressure.

Aurora felt he looked familiar.

She lowered her body and leaned close to Balian.

“Who is that person? The one in plate armor next to the queen.”

Balian followed her gaze.

“The Captain of the Guard.”

“Captain of the Guard?”

“The Royal Captain, commander of the Franc Guard. Lancelot de Adenauer.”

Adenauer.

Aurora had heard that surname.

“The Adenauer family? The Border Marquis?”

“Yes. The Adenauer Border Marquisate is south of the Duchy of Hermes and east of the Crown Domain. It guards the eastern border relying on mountains and forests. It’s a military stronghold. Their family is like ours, a martial nobility that has served in the military for generations.”

Balian paused and added:

“Lancelot is the eldest son of the current Marquis Adenauer.”

“Mm, what’s he like?”

“Not sure,” Balian answered honestly. “I don’t have much interaction with the Franc Guard. I don’t know him well. I only know one thing.”

“What?”

“He’s very skilled in combat.”

“How skilled?”

Balian thought for a moment, choosing his words carefully.

“If Marquis Ed is the strongest knight in history, then Lancelot de Adenauer is probably the strongest of the present age.”

Strongest in history vs strongest of the present age?

Then who would win between them?

“Besides fighting? Personality? Character? Who is he close to?”

“I don’t know about those, miss.”

Balian spread his hands.

Aurora rolled her eyes.

“So you basically know nothing?”

“…Sorry.”

Forget it, she’d investigate on her own when she had time.

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