Chapter 4: The Challenge

Palermo glanced hesitantly at the long queue approaching from afar. The carriage in the middle of the queue, adorned with a snarling bear head emblem, stood out sharply—undoubtedly the distinctive symbol of that independent Caucasus lord, likely a way for him to openly break ties with his relatives in the city of Cyprus.
Recalling Princess Kakiya’s warning, Palermo hesitated. “This guy may seem unremarkable now, but he’s by no means ordinary. I can’t predict what he’ll do in the future, but whatever it is, it certainly won’t be surprising.” That was Princess Kakiya’s assessment of the Caucasus lord. Palermo wasn’t interested in politics, but his business relied on it. Since he couldn’t avoid politics, he had to take the initiative in it—only then could he maximize his investments into profits. That was Palermo’s creed.
Now, faced with another choice, Palermo’s fat face seemed overly muscular, and his eyes sank beneath layers of fat and bags, though this didn’t hinder their sharpness. If he was indeed not ordinary, then perhaps he should take a small risk—hoping this guy wouldn’t disappoint him.
Palermo’s secret invitation surprised Komer. The business deal was already done; all that remained was routine work. What could possibly warrant such a secretive invitation? Could someone be plotting against him? Doubtful, Komer followed a unmarked carriage to a remote side road, where he encountered another unmarked carriage.
Once inside, the spacious carriage suddenly felt crowded with the presence of the other man. Komer wasn’t sure if it was psychological or something else, but the air inside seemed thin and suffocating.
“Mr. Palermo, it’s great to see you here. But this seems like a poor place for a conversation. If you have time, why not join me on a hunt in the Caucasus? I assure you it’ll be more exciting and thrilling than His Majesty’s château at Versailles. If you enjoy adventure, Fort Damiansk is a famous destination in the kingdom—guaranteed to leave you in awe.” Knowing the other man must have a purpose, Komer still pretended to be a carefree nobleman, far from his serious demeanor during the negotiations.

“My Lord Baron, you truly have plenty of free time. The Caucasus might indeed be a good place for hunting adventures, but ordinary people prefer a stable and safe life. Have you ever thought, My Lord Baron, that if there were a place suitable for them that would welcome them, would they still go to the Caucasus?” Shrugging his shoulders—a gesture that usually looked elegant—seemed somewhat comical on his bulky frame. But at this moment, Komer had no interest in whether the other man’s movements were graceful or not. Even if the other man moved like a swan or was as noble as a member of the royal family, he had no interest at all.

“Mr. Palermo, what do you mean?” With his mind racing, Komer quickly guessed that it must be those immigrants causing problems. It was obvious that the wealth of the Calais Plain had tempted them. It was still unclear what role Duke Zerlin played, but Komer was certain it was related to him.

“My Lord Baron, it seems your political sense isn’t very sharp. That’s not like a lord at all. Don’t you know that many people within and outside the kingdom are dissatisfied with you suddenly having so many free laborers? It would be wise for you to prepare in advance.” With a hint of sarcasm on his face, seeing that the other man seemed clueless, Palermo regretted possibly misjudging him. A lord without such awareness and vigilance would likely end up as a pile of maggots in the Caucasus wilderness soon.

“Heh, Mr. Palermo, please don’t be too nervous. Are you referring to some secret agreement between the city-states of Main and Sussor and Duke Zerlin?” Komer didn’t want the other man to underestimate him and got straight to the point.

Surprised, Palermo felt relieved. It seemed this seemingly carefree man wasn’t so simple after all. He had underestimated him a bit earlier. Nodding, Palermo took a thick cigar from a wooden box on the table, put it in his mouth, and flicked a beautifully crafted magic crystal flint in the wind. A blue flame flickered between the two faces, and light cyan smoke slowly spread throughout the carriage, disappearing into the gaps in the roof.

“Since Lord Baron already knows about it, I don’t see any plan from you. Do you really believe in the loyalty of those idiots?” Palermo greedily enjoyed the pleasure brought by the burning tobacco; the delight from the smoke drifting in and out of his lungs wasn’t something everyone could feel. His eyes glanced at the other man, while his thick, carrot-like fingers tapped gently on the table by the window.

“No, Mr. Palermo. My information isn’t as accurate or timely as you think. But those fools’ behavior has indeed made me cautious. If Duke Zelin truly intends to do such a thing, it will be hard to stop it even if I’m prepared.” Comer seemed very relaxed, even somewhat leisurely.

“Oh? So Lord Baron intends to let this happen?” Palermo raised his eyebrows in surprise, finding it difficult to understand this man’s thoughts.

“No, no. With Mr. Palermo’s help, I’ve changed my mind. Since Duke Zelin is heartless, there’s no need for me to pretend to be polite with him,” Comer replied with a smile.

Glancing at this man with frustration, Palermo had only intended to give him a reminder but found himself drawn into his plans without realizing it. Frowning slightly, the obese man asked, “What are Lord Baron’s plans?”

“If those fools think Duke Zelin can provide them with a safe and stable environment, then it’s enough to let them know that the people here don’t welcome them. As for the details, I think Mr. Palermo can handle that for me. I suppose the farmers in the Calais region won’t like having so many people competing with them for food either. Just make them understand that, and I think they’ll know what to do.” Picking up a cigar from the wooden box, Comer sniffed it lightly and smiled faintly. “Mr. Palermo, please don’t frown. It makes one look older. You can do it. Of course, I, Comer, am not someone who forgets friends. I’ll always remember everything my friend Gasso has done for me.”

Raising his plump right hand, the obese man exhaled a thick plume of smoke that filled the carriage, seemingly trying to hide their expressions. His dark gray eyes sparkled with satisfaction as he gently tapped Comer’s hand. Some words, indistinct, seemed to swirl in his throat: “I hope Lord Baron remembers what was said today.”

Peace returned to the carriage, and the atmosphere became somewhat peculiar. Komer didn’t suggest leaving, nor did the other party order him to go. It seemed both of them were waiting for something, yet they couldn’t put it into words for the time being. The smoke-filled space created a vague sense of distance between them, making them both feel more at ease and allowing them to calm down and consider certain issues.

Palermo found himself developing a subtle fondness for this lord, whose eyes held a look of melancholy, fatigue, and contradiction, much like the person behind him. Palermo trusted his intuition, and various pieces of information confirmed it—this guy was actually a magician, a mage-lord. Such a hybrid profession was probably unheard of in the Land of Azure. It was hard to say if it was exaggerated that he had wiped out an entire gang of bandits in the blink of an eye, but one thing was clear: this man’s identity was far from as simple as he appeared. Hmph, a rural lord—perhaps that identity was just a sheep’s skin hiding a fierce tiger.

Political investment has always been a high-risk venture, surpassing any commercial investment. Yet this wasn’t the main reason Palermo decided to help him. He couldn’t explain exactly what was attractive about this guy. But a nobleman under twenty showing such shrewdness and composure, after spending over half a month in Versailles, a place full of influence, made it hard for Palermo to imagine that this family had no other hobbies aside from occasionally going to bars for coffee and drinks. Common noble hobbies like gambling, women, hunting, and conversation seemed unrelated to him. This didn’t match the rumors about his past behavior, nor did it fit well with the restless atmosphere of the kingdom’s upper class. He was practically an outlier in Versailles. Even if he liked men, Palermo wouldn’t be surprised. But precisely because he had no hobbies at all, he piqued Palermo’s interest even more.

“Mr. Palermo, don’t you think your investment is risky? I believe your investment in me might not yield satisfactory returns—at least that’s how I see it. Once Duke Zelin finds out what’s going on, he’ll likely find it hard to forgive the actions of your distant relative.” Putting his cigar back in the wooden box, Komer finally raised his dark eyes to gaze at the other man’s plump, smooth cheeks.

“Relatives? Heh, if any marriage from several generations back that involves blood relations counts as relatives, then half of the beggars on Jazair’s streets could also be considered relatives of His Majesty the King. My lord baron, there’s no need for you to worry about my affairs. Palermo may have a big head, but he’s not stupid—no outsider will ever know about these things. Even if Duke Zelin were to find out, he’d just pretend not to know. He needs me just as much as I need him.” Palermo’s large head tilted slightly, the few strands of hair left on it falling downward under gravity.

“Then Mr. Palermo must have a good reason for helping Comer, right? I don’t believe Mr. Palermo is a philanthropist. And since our deal has already been completed, it doesn’t seem worth the risk he’s taking.” Comer remained calm and unemotional.

With an innocuous smile on his face, Palermo opened his mouth wide, letting smoke puff out between his teeth, lying back comfortably on the cushion behind the seat. “My lord baron, I simply don’t want to lose a friend—a friend who could potentially become a long-term business partner. Of course, I hope for more than just a business relationship.”

There seemed to be many confusing ambiguities in Palermo’s words, but he had no intention of explaining anything. Revealing certain things might not necessarily earn acceptance; instead, it was this vagueness that allowed people to infer the intentions they preferred.

With a cold glint in his light gray eyes, Comer nodded firmly and said nothing more. He was a businessman with an exceptionally keen sense for perception—a blend of a political opportunist and a business schemer. Years of business dealings and thorough knowledge of the kingdom’s political landscape gave him a far sharper insight and ability to understand human nature than most people. Perhaps just a slight hint from Kajia was enough for this guy to follow clues and uncover many useful things.

Gutenberg was undoubtedly a city of a completely different style from Cyprus. Its tall, thick walls offered significantly stronger defensive capabilities compared to Cyprus’s. Canals surrounded the city, even serving as a free moat. Of course, this moat was merely a small tributary dug along the walls, connected to the canal water, but it still added a layer of security to Gutenberg.

Unlike the winding streets of Cyprus, Gutenberg was a city designed entirely in imitation of the royal capital of Jazair. The grid-like layout divided the city with stone-paved avenues that were straight and square, with each grid forming a block. The Duke of Zelin’s residence was located right at the center of this grid. With just one residence in an entire block, one could imagine its grandeur and prominence.

Furious inwardly, he had to pretend to remain calm on the surface. The silver-haired elder’s face showed signs of anger as he glanced at the country bumpkin who seemed utterly unaware of what was going on. His confusion grew—could this guy really be unrelated to this matter? But how did these people suddenly all become aware of this news?

“My Lord Duke, what’s causing all this noise outside? I heard that farmers and merchants are protesting against the influx of refugees to the Gallia Plain. Have they misunderstood something? We’re just passing through; we don’t intend to stay here. It seems the locals here are too xenophobic. I always thought the Gallia region was a model for lords across the kingdom. I never expected such behavior. We’re just passing through, yet we’re treated like this. No wonder you firmly rejected the kingdom’s proposal last time—this must be the reason.”

Sitting in the reception room, Komer unabashedly provoked the silver-haired elder. As the ruler of the Gallia region, he had never encountered such a situation before. How could these farmers and merchants know he wanted to take in a group of refugees? The matter was still in the discussion stage, yet it had already caused such uproar. Clearly, someone was inciting these simple-minded fools to rebel. But who could it be?

The silver-haired elder’s gaze swept over the indifferent-looking young man. He was the prime suspect, of course. But only a few people knew about this matter. This country bumpkin couldn’t possibly be aware of it. Moreover, this guy had never been to Gallia before, and there were no influential people in the region connected to him. It was impossible for him to stir up such a big disturbance.

“Hehe, Baron, I’m afraid it’s because those fools in my territory drank too much shochu, coupled with the instigation of some who don’t understand the truth. The decision to relocate immigrants from three regions to the Caucasus in the Homer area was made by the kingdom’s internal affairs department. Although the Caucasus is a bit remote and desolate, I believe under your governance, it will surely surpass Calais.” The silver-haired old man’s lips twitched slightly as he spoke with concern. “Lord Teyz has already instructed all local authorities along the way. If you need any further assistance, please don’t hesitate to ask—Zerlin will surely offer full support.”

“No, no, I already feel deeply guilty for troubling Duke Komer these past few days, especially for causing such great misunderstandings among the people in his domain. That’s certainly not what Komer wants to see. All I hope is that the Duke can safely escort us out of the country—that’s our greatest wish.” Komer looked overwhelmed with gratitude, repeatedly expressing his thanks with utmost deference.

A hint of anger flashed across the silver-haired old man’s face as he let out a soft hum. “Baron, rest assured. I’ve already ordered the guards to disperse these ungrateful fools. I don’t know who’s spreading rumors, but if I catch them, they’ll have to pay for their actions.”

“Duke, please be cautious. If casualties occur, the people’s anger will turn against the refugees. We’re just passing through, and this situation arose due to a misunderstanding. As long as we leave as soon as possible, I believe the people’s emotions will calm down quickly.”

Worried, Komer turned his gaze toward the few refugee representatives sitting aside, pale and silent. The shouting outside grew louder, clearly indicating that the situation was out of control.

“Strangers, get out! We don’t have extra food to feed you!”

“Kill the foreigners! Go back to your homeland! Calais doesn’t welcome you!”

One wave of furious shouts after another came from outside the window. Even the beautiful stained-glass windows seemed to tremble slightly. The already anxious representatives grew even more panicked, their eyes darting around. Fortunately, soon, the sound of orderly footsteps mixed with horse hooves echoed from afar, followed by a chaotic mix of shouts and cries. As time passed, the shouting gradually subsided as the footsteps faded away, leaving everyone inside the mansion staring at each other in shock.