Chapter 205 : Chapter 205
Chapter 205. Outshining the Host
“Professor, I am the special envoy of His Highness First Prince Dorg.”
Before the others could even process what had just happened, another finely dressed young man leaned in and lowered his voice, his tone carrying a trace of superiority. “His Highness greatly admires your talent. A bitterly cold place like the Northern Territory, barren in resources, is utterly unworthy of someone of your status. If you are willing, His Highness promises that the doors of the Royal Court’s Chief Mage Corps will be opened to you. He can even grant you the title of hereditary marquis...”
“A hereditary marquis? Chief Court Mage?”
Logaris raised a brow. Through his lenses, those pale blue eyes regarded the envoy calmly, while a faintly amused curve lifted the corner of his mouth.
“Sir Envoy, I think you may have some misunderstanding about my ‘status’ in the Northern Territory.”
“In the Northern Territory, what Her Highness Sylvia has given me is far more than resources.”
“As long as I sign my name, the vaults of the Northern Territory Treasury will open for me at any time, and the movement of tens of millions of Golden Lion Coins requires no reporting to anyone. With a single order from me, the three thousand new Magitech troops of the Northern Territory—and even Her Highness Sylvia’s personal guard—would not hesitate to turn their gun barrels toward any target I designate, even if that target were a member of the royal family.”
At that point, Logaris leaned forward slightly, and an invisible pressure instantly enveloped the envoy.
“Her Highness Sylvia dares to place her very life, her entire fortune, and all the military and political authority of the Northern Territory into my hands without reservation.”
He pushed up his glasses, and his gaze turned incomparably sharp.
“So tell me, Sir Envoy. If I were to defect to His Highness the First Prince...”
“Would he dare hand the command of the Royal Guard over to me? Would he dare hang the keys to the national treasury at my waist? Would he dare allow an ‘outsider’ to hold absolute authority of judgment beside his very bed?”
The envoy’s face went deathly pale, and cold sweat slid down from his temples.
Of course he would not dare!
Let alone some outsider mage—First Prince Dorg guarded even his own brothers like thieves!
“It seems you already have your answer.”
Logaris let out a light laugh, his tone edged with disdain.
The envoy opened his mouth, only to discover that he could not produce a single word of rebuttal. In the end, he too could only slink away in defeat.
One after another.
Whether it was the temptation of money, insinuations of beauty, or political overtures, all of it seemed to crash into a smooth and icy wall of sighing indifference before this young man. He always used the politest tone and the most precise wording to shatter the pride of whoever stood before him.
In less than ten minutes, the atmosphere of the banquet hall had become delicate.
As the host of the banquet, Second Prince Carlisle still had his core advisers, several stationed generals, and a few old military noble houses firmly aligned with him gathered at his side. In terms of numbers, it was enough to maintain royal appearances.
But the problem was that the “outsider,” who should have been isolated, was now also surrounded by a dense crowd, and the momentum around him was even beginning to overshadow that of the host.
Those who had originally remained neutral, and even some wavering opportunists whose loyalties were uncertain, were now crowding around that young man like sharks that had scented blood. Even when he answered them with mild, pointed barbs, those nobles only smiled along, as though it were some special honor.
Crack.
A fracture appeared in the stem of the goblet Carlisle was holding.
He stared fixedly at that figure in the distance, the one surrounded like the moon among stars. The jealousy in his heart was like a venomous serpent, frantically gnawing at his reason.
Why?
He was the prince. He was the master of this land. Logaris was nothing more than a subject. By what right did he dare steal the spotlight here?
What Carlisle did not know was that, in this world where strength stood above all else, the nobles calculated their accounts with great precision.
Carlisle was not necessarily the future king. After all, he had an elder brother above him and a younger sister below him. But a twenty-two-year-old Sixth-Tier Mage would one day become a Seventh-Tier Legend without fail, a true pillar of the nation. After all, once someone had already reached the Sixth Tier, the possibility of dying young was practically nonexistent.
A person like that would be a towering figure no matter where he went, even if he never stayed in the kingdom at all.
On one side was uncertain royal power. On the other was absolute strength, visible to the naked eye.
Even a fool knew at which temple he ought to burn incense.
“Your Highness, calm yourself,” one of his confidants murmured at his side.
“I am very calm.” Carlisle took a deep breath, adjusted his expression, and put on a smile that did not reach his flesh.
He was a prince.
The supreme commander of this southeastern defensive line.
In truth, he knew he should have shown more restraint. But every time he saw that black-haired man lounging on the sofa with one leg crossed over the other as if he were relaxing in his own back garden, the jealousy in his heart was like oil poured on a fire, surging higher and higher.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
Military boots struck the marble floor, each step crisp and heavy with pressure.
The crowded throng instantly parted as though pushed aside by an invisible hand, opening up a broad path. Every gaze focused over, carrying the excitement and unease of people eager for a spectacle.
Carlisle stopped in front of Logaris and looked down at the young man seated on the sofa.
“Professor Logaris certainly cuts an imposing figure.” Carlisle’s voice was not loud, but it was enough to make the surrounding area fall silent. “Someone who didn’t know better might think tonight’s banquet was being held in your honor.”
The surroundings fell silent at once, and even the graceful violin music suddenly sounded sharp to the ear.
Logaris lifted his eyes and glanced at him as though looking at a child throwing a tantrum, with no intention of standing up.
“Your Highness is too kind.” Logaris took a sip of wine.
“If this were truly a victory banquet, then at the very least it should wait until those damned magical beasts outside are wiped out and the lost territory has been reclaimed. As for holding a victory banquet now...”
He finally raised his head. In those pale blue eyes behind the lenses, there was not the slightest warmth.
“Isn’t it a little early? Or is Your Highness in the habit of treating funerals as celebrations?”
Hiss—
A wave of sharp intakes of breath sounded from the crowd.
That was only a step away from pointing at Carlisle’s face and accusing him of neglecting his duties and doing nothing but papering over the cracks!
The muscles in Carlisle’s face twitched.
“I heard the Professor brought three thousand ‘elite troops’ this time?” Carlisle deliberately stressed the words elite troops, his tone dripping with mockery. “Just now, I heard the reports from below. Once this elite force arrived at its encampment, it neither drilled nor rested. Instead, it started digging holes in the ground like a bunch of marmots?”
A few cooperative laughs rose from the crowd.
“The Northern Territory’s tactics really are eye-opening.” Carlisle shook his head, wearing an expression of deep regret. “If you came just to claim military merit, then you might as well have brought an honor guard. Even that would have been better than bringing a bunch of miners. If word of this got out, people would think the Astrelia Kingdom had no one left.”
Logaris set down his glass.
The bottom of the goblet touched the table with a crisp tap.
“Your Highness is absolutely right.” Logaris nodded, looking fully in agreement. “I also think this sort of tactic is disgraceful.”
Carlisle froze for a moment, clearly not expecting the other man to go along with him.
“After all, only when facing disasters they cannot overcome by force do the weak need to dig holes to preserve their lives.” Logaris rose to his feet and looked Carlisle straight in the eye. “If the defensive line on the southeastern frontier were as hard as Your Highness’s mouth, then I imagine my soldiers would not need to play marmot.”
The nobles who had just been laughing found their smiles frozen stiff on their faces, like ducks whose throats had suddenly been seized.