Chapter Eleven: Fate

When the beautiful melody of “Prague Spring” played, Komer naturally became the preferred dance partner of Princess Verola, the birthday girl. As everyone watched with envy and admiration as this once-unimportant country boy suddenly became the star of the party, Knight Sart’s bloodshot eyes seemed ready to pounce on someone.

The foxtrot was the most popular dance in the upper classes of the Land of Azure. As a noble, one might not know anything else, but basic noble etiquette and social skills were essential—otherwise, one would struggle to get by. Mastering dance forms was one of the most fundamental social skills. Although Komer, one of the Three Wolves of Cyprus, had learned nothing during his reckless years in youth, he excelled at these things that represented noble status. As a basic tool for seducing virtuous young women, dance forms were indispensable under any circumstances.

Komer’s skilled dancing skills allowed him to guide the silver-haired girl through the hall with ease—from the minuet to the triple step, and finally to the blues. From light and graceful to steady and proficient, Komer fully demonstrated the elegance and refinement of a noble. The silver-haired girl’s delicate frame changed dance poses continuously under his guidance. Their seamless coordination earned applause from the Galian nobles watching. From the admiring and enchanted looks in the ladies’ eyes, it was clear that Komer’s generosity and grace had completely won them over. Though the unmarried men were dissatisfied, the married men praised highly this young noble from the Homer region.

“Lord Baron, I’m curious—do you really not feel pain giving me such a magical treasure as a gift? Is it out of courtesy that you’re too embarrassed to take back a gift you’ve already given?” Even amidst the soothing music, the girl’s gentle voice still intoxicated Komer. Her faint fragrance seemed not to be from any expensive perfume, but rather an innate body scent. Its subtle aroma lingered around him, creating a dreamlike sense of dizziness.

“Oh, Miss Vero, the Essence Ring, one of the seven rings of the Goddess of Nature, might indeed be a precious treasure for many people. But in Komer’s eyes, it would be better to have it on your hand rather than on a magician’s hand to cast those meaningless spells. If Miss Vero can always maintain the outstanding grace that makes her stand out across the continent, then Komer believes this ring will truly fulfill its purpose. Even if Komer had another such ring, he would make the same choice.” Perhaps entering some kind of time tunnel, Komer found himself unconsciously back in the state he was in during those noble parties in Cyprus a few years ago—flowing with sweet, affectionate words without even needing to think. He was surprised by his own reaction.

Faced with such sweet words from a noble youth, the silver-haired girl seemed somewhat lacking in resistance. As the music played, they seemed to find more and more common topics to talk about—ranging from the tragic fate of refugees and the harsh living conditions in their new homes to the daily lives of nobles and the hard struggles of commoners. The silver-haired girl noticed that the man, whom she considered a country bumpkin, always spoke with a hint of self-mockery, which gave her an indescribable sense of affinity.

Seeing his daughter chatting happily with that baron, the silver-haired old man’s expression grew darker. What should have been a pleasant birthday party had turned into this man’s stage for performance. A single ring had helped him gain a good reputation among the nobles of Calais. This Sart really only managed to cause trouble, Zelin thought resentfully.

“Mr. Mondel, is the ring that Vero is wearing really one of the seven Rings of the Goddess of Nature? I doubt there’s nothing strange about it,” the silver-haired old man finally said, turning his gaze away from the dancing couple and lowering his voice.

“There should be no problem. I can sense the strong and vibrant magical aura from that ring. Although I’ve never had the chance to see the Seven Spiritual Rings of the Goddess of Nature, there’s no doubt this is a genuine treasure. My friend, Mr. Lebray, has traveled throughout the continent, specializing in the study and search for such wonders. His judgment is absolutely reliable. He just told me that if this ring could find a suitable buyer in Jazair or Marco, its value would be at least 300,000 gold shields! I can hardly believe it!” The magician’s eyes revealed unmistakable envy and regret—such a magical marvel being used as a beauty and health product for a girl was simply a waste.

“300,000 gold shields?!” Even Zerlin, who was extremely wealthy in his kingdom, was shocked. Could such a small ring really be worth 300,000 gold shields? Wasn’t that exaggerated?

Seeing the other party’s puzzled expression, Mondel knew they weren’t very familiar with the prices of magical items. With a faint smile, he said, “Your Highness, magical items are different from ordinary things. They can’t be valued solely based on their materials or craftsmanship. As you know, an antique or famous painting often exceeds its actual value by far, and the value of magical items far surpasses that of antiques and paintings. If a magician possesses a magical artifact of divine-level, the magical skills they can wield can even increase by one or two levels, potentially saving them decades of training time. You can imagine its significance. For a treasure of divine-level like the Essence Spiritual Ring, 300,000 gold shields is nothing. If it were sold to a magician specializing in wood magic, 500,000 gold shields wouldn’t be out of the question.”

The silver-haired old man’s face changed slightly. Before he could respond, Mondel dropped another bombshell: “Your Highness asked me to persuade Lebray to serve you. I conveyed your wishes just now, and he said that if he could be given that ring, he would consider serving you for five years.”

The silver-haired old man trembled with excitement. “Is that true?”

“Hehe, that was what my old friend said himself. There’s no doubt about it. But have you thought about how to explain this to the princess and the others?” With a hint of jealousy, Mondel nodded. A sense of discomfort arose in him. Seeing the other party value his friend so highly, and despite his many years of friendship with Lebray, Mondel didn’t want to see his own status challenged. He himself didn’t even know exactly how skilled his long-time friend was in magic.

Mundell’s reminder indeed made the silver-haired old man frown. Such a rare treasure given to his own daughter in public would surely attract everyone’s attention. If given to others as a bargaining item rashly, it was hard to say what kind of reactions it might provoke. As a local lord, he had to consider this.

The banquet finally came to an end after its highs and lows. Princess Vero and Baron Komer became the most prominent couple at the event. Although Komer regretted giving away such a precious item so easily, thinking that the silver-haired girl could evoke memories and enthusiasm from his youth, he knew from her gaze that he had successfully won her favor. This set the stage for many future opportunities, and he felt the trip had been worthwhile.

Yet what filled Komer with even greater anticipation wasn’t this. That disheveled magician seemed to have suspicions about him as well. A remark the magician made before Komer left filled him with wariness. But Komer also left a trail for the man. Given his mentality, he would surely fall for it. Once that guy reached the Caucasus, he might even bring some unexpected benefits—Komer hoped so.

The disturbance caused by the Gallicans died down quietly, as if nothing had happened. Everyone returned to their roles—lords remained lords, representatives remained representatives. It seemed no one wanted to stay in Gallican, and Grand Duke Zelin never seemed to have intended to accept those wealthy merchants, whose list had even been drafted. They came quietly and left quietly.

The bustling crowd paused in Gallican before continuing slowly southeastward, crossing the vast Gallican plains to enter the Bosen Plains, which geologically belonged to the same structural zone. This was Grand Duke Philip’s direct territory, also a flat and fertile land. But after the Gallican incident, the refugees knew that neither nobles nor commoners would allow them to live there. Whether from a political standpoint or to maintain stability in their own territories, they couldn’t tolerate a large number of free people living there—unless, of course, one was willing to become a slave.

The Galilee Plain and the Bouson Plain are the two major grain-producing areas in the southern region of the Kingdom of Nicosia. Every year, in addition to meeting local needs, large amounts of surplus grain are sold to neighboring areas, serving as one of the main sources of revenue for Zelin and Philip, two of the four great lords of the kingdom. Passing through these areas once again, Komer couldn’t help but admit that their natural conditions far surpassed those of his own poor fiefdom in every regard—improved irrigation systems, advanced transportation, fertile land cultivated over years, and numerous market towns scattered throughout. It was no wonder that these refugees from the north, upon seeing places with even better conditions than their hometowns, wanted to stay there. Yet they seemed to forget that these lands belonged to someone else, and such favorable conditions couldn’t be obtained easily. Moreover, the lives of ordinary people were not as happy and peaceful as they imagined.