Chapter Seventeen: Gifts

Zerin was deeply disappointed by the failure of Selinger and his group. It seemed the strength of their opponents was even greater than expected. Zerin was well aware of the capabilities of Selinger’s three companions and the mages from the Mage Guild. His own Order of Rebirth Knights and Mage Corps might be slightly stronger overall, but each had their own strengths in terms of individual power.

Such a perfect attack had failed, and Selinger’s three companions seemed to have disappeared without a trace, which left Zerin puzzled. If they truly died in the attack, the Bohemians would have to vent their anger on the Homers. If they were captured, it would pose a difficult problem for the Homers. The proud Bohemians would not tolerate being humiliated, even if they were at fault—they refused to allow outsiders to dictate their actions.

Yet, so far, there had been no news from Poznan, as if nothing had happened. This worried Zerin. The mage who escaped back confirmed that Selinger and his group were likely trapped, but it was unknown whether they were dead or captured.

It was precisely because he couldn’t know the truth that Zerin felt uneasy. He didn’t know what the opponents were planning. The situation on the front lines remained unchanged. Logically, if the opponents truly knew who Selinger and his group were, they would have suspected it was their doing. But this silence was too strange. What were they planning?

“What did you say? Homers? The Homers from Nicomedia?” The young man, clearly surprised, was puzzled by the visitors from afar. “Hmm, Nicomedia is in civil war. Are the Homers at war with the Poznans and Galians within it? Wallen, if I’m not mistaken…”

“Your Highness, your memory is excellent. They are indeed messengers of that Homer usurper, but they are Giza people, from the Gran family—Sulma,” nodded Count Wallen, loyal and honest. “It seems Lord Bramont wants to win the heart of Princess Vero, so his attitude is quite clear.”

“Hmph, ignoring the kingdom’s interests for personal gain—will Father even ignore Bramont’s actions?” The young man clearly was dissatisfied.

“Your Highness, without clear information, His Majesty will not express his opinion on such matters. After all, Prince Bramont is already the crown prince, and His Majesty often has to consider his prestige. As long as it’s not too extreme, I think His Majesty will get involved.” The sharpness in Warren’s eyes showed that he wasn’t as mediocre as he appeared on the surface.

“Do you mean this envoy will bring us something interesting? Has my brother done something too extreme?” Having lived in the palace for over twenty years, the young man had developed a keen sense, especially in political matters, unmatched by anyone else. Perhaps this was an inevitable blessing or tragedy for those in the royal family.

“I think so, but the specifics can only be clarified after Your Highness meets with this envoy.”

“Giza people! I hate Giza people. These inferior races should have been driven to the Mogan Wasteland or the Cordillera Wasteland long ago, except for those who bring me good news.” Though muttering, it was clear the young man was quite interested in what his loyal vassal had to say.

“Your Highness, please restrain those unnecessary emotions. You need more people’s help,” Warren said, shaking his head.

“I know, Warren. I won’t act like this in front of outsiders.” The young man nodded. “Then please invite our envoy in.”

The man with the sharp face who entered gave an unpleasant first impression. Though his attire seemed proper, his constantly moving eyes ruined all his attempts at looking polished.

“Mr. Sulma, this is Prince Doloni. I heard you have something very important to discuss with him. I’ve arranged this opportunity for you—hope you make the most of it. Your Highness doesn’t have much time.” Warren appeared calm in front of the man with the sharp face, but his condescending tone couldn’t be hidden.

“Thank you, Count Warren, for arranging this. Both I and those who entrusted me will remember Mr. Warren’s kindness.” The man with the sharp face bowed carefully. “Respected and noble Prince Doloni, please allow me to convey the sincere blessings and greetings of Lord Komer of Poznan—Homer—Caucasus on your behalf.”

“Oh, thank you for Lord Komer’s concern. But I don’t have much time. Mr. Sulma, please get to the point.” The young man seemed impatient, seemingly unaware of why Sulma had come.

The man with the sharp face bowed again. “Your Highness, please be patient. What I’ve brought for you will surely interest you greatly.”
“Oh? I can’t imagine what specialty from Nicosia could possibly interest me,” the young man, whose eyebrows were raised, grew impatient.
“No, no, Your Highness. What I’ve brought isn’t a specialty of Nicosia, but rather of your country,” the man with the sharp face said, his smile resembling that of a sly fox, which was unsettling.
“A specialty of my country?” Both the young man and Warren frowned. Was this guy an idiot? Had he traveled all this way just to bring a specialty from Bohemia?
“Yes, only a specialty from your country—nothing else,” the man with the sharp face nodded repeatedly.
“What is it?” the young man and Warren asked in unison. Even Warren regretted arranging this meeting; perhaps he was being too sensitive.
“Magic knights, the court magic knights of Bohemia.”
The young man and Warren exchanged confused looks. Was this guy truly insane? Didn’t he know what he was saying? What did it mean to offer the court magic knights of the Kingdom of Bohemia as a gift? They couldn’t understand the meaning of his words at all.
Seeing their confused and bewildered expressions, the man with the sharp face remained calm. “Your Highness, this is a long story. Please allow me to explain from the beginning. I believe you two will be more interested in this topic than anything else.”
The two bewildered individuals could only nod in reluctant agreement.