by M Sisa
Duke Drakus had the urge to kick the fat man in front of him. The sugarcoated words the man spoke sure reeked of mockery.
“Sir Paztro of House Youchester has arrived!”
Duke Youchester, who remained silent until now, looked at the direction of the door. A pale-looking young man had just arrived.
“It seems that my son has arrived,” said Duke Youchester. “Excuse me.”
Without uttering another word, Duke Youchester left the other two Dukes behind. He went to his son and led him to the center of the Grand Hall.
“What were the two of you talking about?” said Duke Kelvin. “It’s been so long since I last saw Youchester speak so lively with someone.”
Duke Drakus did not reply. He picked up a goblet on the table and started drinking. Duke Kelvin clicked his tongue. Now that Youchester was gone, it was no longer fun picking on this old man. He left and went back to where the nobles of his faction gathered.
A man with long silver hair walked towards Duke Drakus.
“Father.”
It was his oldest son, Lui Marcus. He was the only person here who carried a sword on his waist. It was common knowledge that he always carried his beloved weapon wherever he went, no matter what.
“Do you think he’ll come?”
Duke Drakus frowned at this question. “It doesn’t matter if he comes or not. We’ve already talked about this, Lui. Do you remember your oath? Your promise?”
Lui frowned and sighed, “I remember, Father.”
Duke Drakus’ss mood turned sour. For some reason, the wine did not taste as good anymore. He hoped that son of his wouldn’t come. That boy was not human – he was a demon clad in human flesh. If he came here, there would be nothing but mayhem.
He prayed to the Gods that this gathering would come to pass without a hitch, that his damned son of wouldn’t come.
But the heavens willed otherwise.
“Sir Lark of House Marcus has arrived!”
The buzzes inside the Grand Hall came to a stop. All of the nobles looked at the direction of the door, particularly at the young man with short silver hair. He wore a simple yet elegant dress with golden embroidering. His eyes were clear, as though the large crowd did not faze him at all. His back was straight as he strode into the Grand Hall.
“He’s here!” Lui Marcus could not conceal the excitement in his voice. “He’s grown taller, Father!”
Like a doting brother, Lui looked at Lark with warmth in his eyes.
Duke Drakus gnashed his teeth.
Why did the bastard come to this place? To embarrass their family? He wanted to cuss and kick the boy out, but there were so many eyes watching.
Lark looked at their direction, and to Duke Drakus’s horror, the kid smiled at them!
“Remember your oath,” said the Duke, his voice firm. “You are not allowed to speak with your brother.”
Lui clenched his fists, “Yes, Father.”
Almost a year ago, the Duke planned on throwing Lark away to another Kingdom, never to be seen again. But Lui begged his father to reconsider. Instead, they made a deal: in exchange of just exiling Lark to a faraway town, Lui cannot speak with nor contact his brother ever again.
To Duke Drakus’s relief, Lark started eating instead of coming towards them. The other nobles were obviously wary of the kid, since no one even bothered greeting him.
***
When Lark arrived inside the Grand Hall, he had already expected the harsh treatment from his fellow nobles due to his bad reputation, but he had not expected things to be this severe. No one bothered to speak with him at all, the nobles even avoided his gaze. It was as though he did not exist at all.
He saw two nobles with the characteristic silver hair of the Marcus Family. Judging by the way the other nobles interacted with those two, they were probably his father and his brother.
His father glared at him, while his older brother looked at him with warmth.
With Lark’s vast experience borne from his previous life, he felt that the Duke did not want to associate with him at all. Thus, Lark decided to simply eat and drink, to wait things out and to observe what would happen in this gathering.
I’ve seen what they look like. That’s enough.
Lark had no intention of making things hard for his father. If given the chance, he could just speak with them later, away from the eyes of these nobles.
“So, you’re Lark Marcus.” A man in his middle forties approached Lark. “I’ve been wanting to meet you.”
Lark stared at the man before him. He could not feel any malice within those eyes. Lark’s intuition was telling him that those words were genuine.
“Ah, apologies.” The man scratched his cheeks. His skin was dark, as though it had been constantly exposed to the scorching sun. “I forgot to introduce myself. I am Chase, the Lord of Golden Wheat City. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Young Master Lark.”
Lord Chase offered his hand and Lark shook it.
Lark had heard of Golden Wheat City several times before. It was the city that produced half of the wheat in the entire Kingdom – the second richest city next to the Capital.
Why was such a prominent figure – the Lord of a Major City – talking to him like this?
“It’s also my pleasure, Lord Chase.” Lark decided to proceed with the pleasantries. “It’s an honor to meet the Lord of Golden Wheat City. My small town used to import wheat before when we were struck by the Black Famine.”
“You’re more polite than the rumors,” Lord Chase smiled. “And there’s no need to address me so respectfully. I was born a commoner, after all.”
Lark paused, “Born a commoner? So what?”
Lord Chase was taken aback by this statement. He chuckled. “Hahaha! That’s right! In administrating a city, your background doesn’t matter. What matters is your governing skill, the way you treat your subjects. Status and nobility are insignificant.”
Lord Chase was starting to like this young man. The other nobles treated him poorly back when he first attained the position of Lord several years ago. Although they did not show it explicitly, he could feel and see it in their eyes: they disliked the idea of a commoner becoming the Lord of a city.
But the eyes of this young man told the truth. He meant what he said.
A group of nobles approached Lark and Lord Chase.
“Lord Chase,” the noble at their lead reached out his hand. “We meet again.”
Lord Chase shook the man’s hand. “Count Sith. It’s a surprise seeing you here.”
“His Majesty personally invited me. This old man wouldn’t dare refuse the crown’s invite.” Count Sith’s eyes moved from Lord Chase, then to Lark. “And this young man is?”
Since the Count had just arrived, he did not know the identity of Lark.
One of the nobles behind Count Sith whispered, “Sir, it’s that guy. Lark Marcus.”
Count Sith’s eyes momentarily grew wide. His smile almost slipped down his face. He coughed twice then resumed his smiling façade. “Ah, Lark Marcus, is it?” He reached out his hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet the second son of Duke Drakus.”
After shaking hands, Count Sith avoided Lark’s gaze all throughout his conversation with Lord Chase. It was apparent that he did not like to be associated with the trash of the House Marcus. That young man was disowned by his own family. What benefit would Count Sith gain in making acquaintance with him?
After Count Sith left, several more nobles came to greet Lord Chase. And just like before, they immediately ignored Lark the moment they learned of his identity.
After everyone had finally left them, Lord Chase smiled at Lark. He gazed at the young man as though he was looking at his own son. “Don’t mind them. They’ll soon realize how stupid they are.”
“What do you mean, Sir?” Lark was puzzled.
Lord Chase chuckled, “You’ll know what I’m talking about. Soon.”
“Ah, by the way,” Lord Chase paused for a moment. “Are you
acquainted with the Tower?”
“The Tower?”
“The Magic Tower,” said Lord Chase. He looked at a certain part of the Grand Hall. Following Lord Chase’s gaze, Lark met the eyes of a red-haired woman wearing a purple cloak. The insignia of a wing embroidered on her cloak was familiar – it was the crest of the Tower of Magic. The same organization Lark crushed back in Wizzert City.
The red-haired woman was breathtakingly beautiful, but she glared at Lark for some reason.
Purple cloak. She’s probably an Elder from the Tower.
Lark surmised that the woman must have felt the familiar aura of Lark. But since they were currently inside the King’s castle, she had no choice but to stay put.
“Never heard of them,” Lark lied.
Lord Chase had a quizzical look on his face. “Is that so?”
The two of them ignored the woman glaring at Lark’s direction.
Soon, Viscount Lakian entered the Grand Hall. Seeing him, everyone turned quiet at once. He tapped his wooden staff on the marbled floor. “The embodiment of God Neruz. The heart of the Sun. His Majesty, King Alvis Lukas VI has arrived. Everyone – show your respect.”
The nobles all lowered their heads as an old man with ashen hair entered the Grand Hall.
King Alvis wore simple clothes and a golden crown. He held a scepter in his right hand. He sat on a seat higher than everyone else’s.
“We greet His Majesty!” the nobles said in unison.
The King nodded his head and thanked everyone for coming to celebrate his sixty-fifth birthday.
With the arrival of the King, the celebration officially began. Minstrels started singing and playing music while women wearing feather-filled outfits danced. Chatters filled the Grand Hall as the nobles tried making connections with the influential figures gathered in this place.
Lord Chase continued chatting with Lark. Despite the mundane topics, the Lord of Golden Wheat City obviously enjoyed speaking with the young man.
The hour quickly passed. The King stood up from his seat. He grasped a gemstone in his hand and spoke to it. His voice, amplified with magic, was then heard all throughout the Grand Hall.
“I have invited all of you here for two reasons,” said the King. Everyone attentively listened. The minstrels stopped playing. “First is to celebrate this old man’s birthday. I’m just glad I’m still alive to see this day. Who knows, maybe this old man would not wake up tomorrow?”
The King chuckled at his own morbid joke. The nobles awkwardly laughed.
“Second is to give recognition to the people who had contributed greatly to the Kingdom.”
Hearing this, Duke Kelvin broadly grinned. The nobles around them instinctively glanced at his son, Kalavinka.
The Grand Chamberlain tapped his wooden staff on the ground. On cue, several people entered the Grand Hall, carrying exquisite-looking chests with them.
“We will now proceed with the awarding ceremony,” the King announced through the magic stone. Murmurs and buzzes filled the air. Everyone did not expect this event, so they were excited. “We have prepared three rewards. First, for Lui Marcus.”
“Lui Marcus!” repeated the Grand Chamberlain.
Lui walked towards the pedestal. The two royal guards standing beside the King stepped forward, about to stop Lui from coming any closer. Their gazes were focused on the sword hanging on his waist.
“It’s fin,” King Alvis waived his hand. “That man never leaves his weapon behind.”
Although reluctant, the royal guards stepped back. Several steps away from the King, Lui knelt down.
“For successfully blocking the invasion of the Empire at the Yorkshaire Mountain Range, and for successfully completing the reconnaissance mission on the Fourteenth Brigade,” The King’s voice reverberated all throughout the Hall. “I award you with three thousand gold coins, a medal of valor, and the position of Supreme Commander of the Yorkshaire Army.”
The entire hall buzzed with life. Duke Drakus smiled smugly at this sight. As expected of his son! The nobles belonging to their faction cheered.
“But your Majesty,” Lui looked up. “Isn’t that position—”
“—You mean the Sword Saint?” said the King. “Yes, it’s supposed to be his. But he adamantly insisted that you take that position instead. He told me that an old man like him have no plans on leading an army as large as that. He’ll accompany you in battle as an advisor instead.”
Duke Kelvin sneered. This meant that had the Sword Saint not given up on that position, it would have not been granted to Lui. That damn son of Duke Drakus was simply lucky.
“Are you going to reject this offer too?” the King wryly smiled.
Lui shook his head. “No, Your Majesty. I am honored to lead the Yorkshaire Army.”
Cheers erupted.
The nobles belonging in Duke Drakus’s faction were elated. Lui was already the commander of the Western Front, but now, he was also given the authority to command the Yorkshaire Army – an army consisting of veteran soldiers who battled against monsters on a daily basis.
After Lui received his rewards, the King called the second awardee of the day.
“Kalavinka Kelvin,” the King called out.
There was no response. Confused, the Grand Chamberlain said in a raised voice, “Kalavinka Kelvin!”
Soon, a thin, timid-looking boy in his early teens stepped forward. Half of his face was covered by his black hair, his steps wobbly and unsteady.
Seeing this, Duke Kelvin clicked his tongue. “Don’t embarrass our family! The King is waiting! Go!”
Ushered by his father’s words, Kalavinka slowly approached the King. He imitated Lui and knelt down on one knee.
“Y-Your Majesty.” Kalavinka’s voice was trembling.
The King remembered the time he first met this boy a few years ago. He was still the same as he was back then: a boy who could not even look another person in the eye.
For a moment, King Alvis wondered how such a kid managed to defeat the invincible Mullgray Pirates.
“For your consecutive victories against the Mullgray Pirates that threatened our seas, and for reclaiming back the Aurora Island that we have lost to those barbarians a decade ago,” said the King. “I award you with three thousand gold coins, a medal of valor, and the official title of Admiral of the Kingdom!”
The timid-looking boy shook. His father, on the other hand, squeaked in glee. The nobles supporting the House of Kelvin cheered.
“The official title of an Admiral grants you the authority to summon the naval fleet of the other port cities of the Kingdom. Use them as you see fit. I will leave them under your command.”
It was such a great position for a boy his age. Unsure of what to do and say, Kalavinka swallowed dry spit and mumbled, “I… T-Thank you… Y-Your M-Majesty.”
Honestly, Kalavinka wanted to reject the offer, but he was afraid of facing the wrath of his father. This was too much responsibility for a boy like him to bear. He wanted to stand up, flee the place, and go back to his room in their estate.
But in the end, Kalavinka was unable to utter another word.
After the cheers from the nobles subsided, the King cleared his throat and said, “And for the last award, Lark Marcus.”
The entire Hall turned dead silent. Lark almost dropped the goblet he was holding upon hearing his name. He had not expected to be included among the list.
“I told you. Those idiots will shut their mouths soon,” Lord Chase grinned at him. For some reason, he seemed to have expected this development.
“Lark Marcus. Come forward!” said the Grand Chamberlain.
Under the scrutinizing gazes of the nobles present, Lark walked towards the King. He saw at the corner of his eyes the pallid face of his father and the gaping jaw of his brother.
Lark knelt down on one knee.
“For successfully driving away the Third Legion of the United Grakas Alliance,” said the King. His words reverberated amidst the eerie sile
nce. “For successfully taking the head of Commander Azura and General Urkawi of the Beastmen Army.”
There was a long pause.
“And for coming up with the method of destroying the Black Famine, the pests that had been infesting this Kingdom for several years now.”
By now, the eyes of the nobles were open wide, to the point of popping out.
“I award you with four thousand gold coins, a medal of valor, and the position of Royal Advisor of the Kingdom.”
Those who heard the last line were stunned.
Royal Advisor? How absurd!
That position was usually held by old men who were well past their sixties. Such position needed vast experience, wisdom, and knowledge accumulated over the decades. Such a young man holding the position was unheard of before.
Lark looked at the King.
King Alvis smiled at him, “Do you accept?”
To the spectators’ surprise, Lark did not immediately give his reply. “I rule over a small town far from here. Your Majesty, will I need to stay here in the Capital?”
The King seemed to have expected this question. He readily answered, “That’s right. We’ll have a hard time communicating with you otherwise.”
Lark pondered for a few seconds. He bowed his head. “Forgive my insolence, Your Majesty. But I humbly decline.”
The entire Grand Hall went into uproar. The nobles whispered and chatted with each other. They looked at Lark as though he was some madman.
The position of a Royal Advisor was as prominent as a Commander of the Kingdom. He would have the power to influence the direction of the Kingdom. Still, the young man rejected the offer because he did not want to leave his small town!
Duke Drakus almost laughed out loud. “As expected of the Trash. He can’t even distinguish between the good and the bad, huh?”
Kalavinka, who stood next to his father, thought otherwise. He had heard of the rumors of the United Grakas Alliance’s attempt to invade the Southern Region before, but he had not expected it to be true. Even more so having the so-called trash of the Duke’s family as the one who repelled the invasion.
According to the rumors, this young man used only a thousand soldiers to defeat a ten thousand strong enemy. A commander as capable as that would surely have his reasons for rejecting the King’s offer.
