Wortenia Senki (LN) - Volume 16 - Chapter 3

Chapter 3: The Feast Begins

Carriage wheels ground against the flagstone highway leading to the capital’s outskirts, the pale moonlight shining down on it. The vehicle was carrying two men—at least, one of them was obviously a man. He appeared to be about forty years old and slightly over 180 centimeters tall. He was burly and well-built, so much so that he looked like a bear. His forearms were about as thick as a woman’s thighs.

For all that, the most eye-catching thing about this man was the black leather eyepatch covering his right eye. A straight line extending from his brow, down his eyelids, and onto his cheek indicated he’d lost his eye in battle—usually a crippling injury. The scent of violence oozed from him, and even as he sat dressed in fine silk, he looked like the kind of person one would want to avoid. His shining, clean-shaven head only accentuated his vicious appearance.

No one would look at this man and assume he might be a woman, but the same could not be said of the other person in the carriage. Few people could immediately guess the young man sitting opposite of him was a man. He was certainly dressed like a man, but his slender physique gave him an androgynous appearance. He seemed to be in his early to midtwenties and was much shorter than the bald man, perhaps 160 centimeters tall. His tailored silk outfit, adorned with golden thread, spoke of his high social standing.

The young man was surely blessed by the god of beauty. His skin was white, his complexion was clear, and his eyelashes were long. His wavy golden locks were arranged to hang just above the nape of his neck. Every aspect of his appearance was in perfect balance. Anyone who laid eyes on him would be taken aback by his beauty.

He was descended from a venerated family founded by a knight who served the first king and founder of Rhoadseria. At present, his family held territory in Rhoadseria’s east, where they were charged with keeping watch over the Myest border. No one in Rhoadseria’s aristocracy would be ignorant of his family’s name.

Be that as it may, his family’s grand prestige was a thing of the past now. Back when they worked alongside Marquis Ernest, who was the Rhoadserian prime minister at the time, the family had been incredibly powerful, but when they lost in the power struggle with Duke Gelhart, their political standing and authority had greatly diminished. Nonetheless, the family’s long history traced back to the kingdom’s founding, and they were still counted among the kingdom’s prominent nobles. They certainly weren’t the sort of family an upstart baron who came from obscurity could invite to his evening party.

In this world’s aristocracy, nobles only sent invitations to other nobles of equal or lower rank. There were cases where low-ranking nobles invited high-ranking aristocrats, of course, but that was mostly in cases where they were related either by blood or through marriage.

Neither the bald man nor the young man were related to the Mikoshiba barony in any way. In fact, they’d never even met Baron Mikoshiba. The very fact that they’d received an invitation from him was unthinkable. If they were to react in anger, asking if this mere letter of invitation was some thinly veiled insult, Ryoma would be hard-pressed to defend himself. It would be a grave affront, even though their house had been declining in recent years.

Indignation seethed in the bald man’s heart like bubbling lava, but the young man sitting opposite of him just smiled.

“If you’re that displeased by it, you could have ignored the invitation,” the young man said, laughing aloud. “House McMaster is a line of viscounts. Nothing would happen if we missed Baron Mikoshiba’s evening party.”

His laughter was a siren’s song, soothing and bewitching to all who heard it.

The bald man’s expression turned bitter. “You say that when you know things aren’t as simple as that?”

“Well, yes, I suppose they aren’t.” The younger man shrugged apologetically. “Considering the Mikoshiba barony’s power...”

In truth, both the bald man’s indignation and the young man’s analysis were correct. For a Rhoadserian noble, Baron Mikoshiba was acting illogically, so much so that it could even trigger a war between noble houses. In that regard, the bald man’s anger was understandable, but the fact remained that the Mikoshiba barony had enough power to act illogically if it so pleased. Though it was a low-ranking noble house, the Mikoshiba barony had more actual power and achievements under its belt than any other Rhoadserian noble house.

In the last civil war, Ryoma Mikoshiba almost single-handedly installed Queen Lupis on the throne despite her initially weak position. During O’ltormea’s invasion of Xarooda, he went alongside Helena Steiner and successfully brought the war to a truce. And on top of all that, he won a war against Count Salzberg, ruler of the north, and the ten houses serving under him. Being adept at winning wars was a gift, both figuratively and in practice. The only nobles who would challenge the Mikoshiba barony in a power struggle head-on right now were either extremely influential or foolishly suicidal.

What’s more, the invitation from the Mikoshiba barony came with accompanying notes signed by Count Bergstone, Count Zeleph, and Helena Steiner. All three of them had gained significant influence following Queen Lupis’s rise to the throne.

All that, coupled with the McMasters’ own desire to restore their family’s prestige, meant that ignoring Ryoma’s invitation wasn’t an option, even if he was an arrogant upstart. The bald man, the younger man’s father, may have been stubborn, but despite his bearlike appearance, he was no fool. He could judge the situation for what it was.

That was exactly why the younger man wished his father would keep his eyes fixed a few steps ahead.

If you know we can’t refuse, consider our future actions too, the young man thought as he sighed and glanced at his father.

Saying no wasn’t an option, so complaining about it aloud was foolish. Letting the other party know he was displeased would be terribly unwise.

I won’t say he shouldn’t feel any displeasure whatsoever, but at least be smart enough to not let it show.

It’s said that all social interactions are a form of acting, but when a person is disgruntled, it shows in their every action and gesture. Seeing as the walls had ears, there was no telling when or where someone might be listening in. True, the odds of their conversation in a private carriage leaking to the Mikoshiba barony were one in a thousand, if not one in ten thousand, but one bad word reaching the wrong ears was all it took to cause a fatal disaster.

I suppose I should be happy he knows better than to say things like that to the other person’s face.

The young man did think his father was troublesome at times, but he couldn’t very well forsake him. The elder McMaster’s personality was less that of a noble and more that of a warrior. In fact, he’d served as a royal guard before inheriting his title, and his personality was rather impulsive. If monsters appeared in their domain, he would personally fight them, and he had the martial prowess to do so. Disregarding whether his actions were wise, he was willing to put his life at risk for his commoners, and that was commendable.

He also competently governed the fiefdom itself. He wasn’t exceptionally good at it, but the people trusted his honest, stable character. Many of Rhoadseria’s nobles were scum, but in contrast, the bald man’s ability and attitude were admirable. This was exactly why the young man wished his father would hide his feelings, so as to better protect the McMaster viscounty.

The young man furrowed his brow.

Something’s going to happen at tonight’s party. The question is what.

Viscount McMaster had heard that Ryoma was called to the capital by a subpoena from the House of Lords. The pretense for the summons was to testify as a witness, but most would assume he was actually being called for a trial—for starting a war and stealing the territory of the ten houses of the north.

Both were serious crimes, but generally, territory disputes between nobles didn’t develop into a major problem. A noble could demand reparations for lost land, but the nobility believed that justice favored the winner. In most cases, people from other noble families would mediate the matter and be done with it.

But this time, things were different. In addition to Count Salzberg’s death, two-thirds of the ten houses had been wiped out. Since the aristocracy stressed the importance of blood ties and they themselves had ties by marriage with other noble families, Ryoma’s actions left them with the worst possible impression. The fact that not a single family in the House of Lords stood up for Ryoma spoke loudly to that.

He might be capable, but in the end he’s just an upstart. He has no connections with other noble families.

If his only plan to improve his standing among the nobles was this evening party, it would be just a drop in the bucket given how bad his position was. There was no chance it would get him out of this predicament.

In the end, human relations were the same, be it between nobles or commoners. A relationship was based on how much time one spent with another person and how many words were exchanged. Some friendships were like in the movies, where a life-and-death situation could bring people closer, but situations like that were uncommon. In most cases, friendship and intimacy were proportionate to time spent together.

There’s a chance Baron Mikoshiba is enough of a fool to be ignorant of that, but...

In the days since he’d received the invitation, the young man had tried to use all of House McMaster’s connections to gather information on Ryoma. As one might surmise from his father’s personality, their information network was by no means effective, but he pieced together what information they did gather and concluded that Ryoma wasn’t at all that foolish.

Then why...?

Seeing his son so silent, Viscount Diggle McMaster asked, “What’s wrong? Are you thinking about something?”

Shaking his head, the young man looked up at the moon from the carriage’s window. “No, I’m just wondering why Baron Mikoshiba invited us. That’s all.”

♱

Black carriages passed through the mansion’s gates one after another. The most lavish evening party ever held in this two-hundred-year-old estate was about to begin. Viscount McMaster and his son stepped out of their carriage and were greeted at the entrance to the mansion.

Before them, lined on either side of a red carpet, were twenty or so fair women, all clad in maid uniforms made of silk. Standing in the middle of the carpet was a large man, his black hair combed down. He was dressed in a formal outfit made of silk, its primary color black.

As colors went, black was inoffensive, but it wasn’t very interesting either. The man wearing it must have known that too, because the sleeves and lapel were inlaid with silver and gold threads that accentuated the outfit. Maybe he thought that wearing something too gaudy might offend his guests.

“Welcome, and thank you for coming, Viscount McMaster.”

Ryoma Mikoshiba smiled, placed a hand over his chest, and bowed elegantly. A pair of twins—one with blonde hair and the other silver—bowed too, and the other maids behind them followed suit. They moved perfectly in sync.

Even a bow wasn’t as simple as one might think. The timing and angle required training to master. Within the aristocracy, manners were a form of art one needed to master, a necessary skill when it came to politics. It was an unspoken rule of sorts, and depending on the situation, flawed etiquette could make heads fly—literally.

“I should be thanking you. The head of the family greeting us at the gates is quite the honor,” Viscount McMaster replied with a smile. He knew better than to let his displeasure show in front of the person in question.

“I’m honored to greet members of the great House McMaster, which has served Rhoadseria since its founding. Nothing would please me more than to learn proper conduct from you. Oh, but pardon me for keeping you here at the door. Your host will show you the way, so please relax in the hall.”

One of the maids led Viscount McMaster and his son into the mansion.

By all accounts, Viscount McMaster’s first encounter with Ryoma Mikoshiba seemed cordial, but the displeasure that burned in the viscount’s heart was already starting to give way to another emotion. Not a positive one, of course, but something much nastier.

Hmph. He at least trained his servants well. Or maybe they were originally Count Salzberg’s servants. Either way, I’ll have to be cautious.

The maids before him moved in perfect unison, going about their business with such speed and efficiency that it resembled an elegant dance. It was hard to believe that servants of such quality were under the employ of an upstart baron.

It was said that children mirrored their parents, and most people understood that a misbehaving child reflected poorly on their parents. Before an infant gained their own ego and learned to speak, they only had their parents’ example to follow. The saying went that the child was father to the man, but it went without saying that a child’s personality and ideology tended to mirror that of their parents.

That wasn’t limited to children and parents either. A superior’s actions and words influenced their subordinates, and those subordinates reflected on the company as a whole.

The servants the viscount was watching seemed well disciplined, a positive reflection on their master. Also, from a cursory glance, the estate appeared to be in good shape. Not a single speck of dust dirtied the floor, and not a single fold rumpled the carpets. The furnishings were placed meticulously too.

I assumed this place would still be in order, since it was Count Salzberg’s estate initially, but... 

As far as Viscount McMaster was aware, Count Salzberg had only stayed in the capital a handful of times, including when he inherited his title. Even then, he stayed at his estate within the capital, not in this one on the capital’s outskirts. This estate was retained out of inertia, so to speak, because it had been passed down in House Salzberg for generations.

From what the viscount knew, not much was done to maintain it. His family was on relatively good terms with House Salzberg, so he knew that the servants working in this estate wouldn’t be very motivated. Their master hadn’t shown himself for a long while, and although they’d sworn loyalty even if the master of the house was gone, it was naive to assume that they’d uphold that oath given the circumstances.

Viscount McMaster thought of his own situation in comparison. He was a servant of Rhoadseria, but he didn’t conform to all of Queen Lupis’s policies, and he wasn’t willing to invest all of his family’s resources to support her.

I suppose it’s possible the mansion’s housekeeper just happens to be very devoted to their job.

Either way, the outcome was the same. The question was if Ryoma himself managed the servants this way, or if a skilled housekeeper was running things.

It seems this Mikoshiba man has some understanding of what it means to be a noble. That’s surprising, considering his background...

Viscount McMaster’s opinion of Ryoma rose somewhat. He threw a glance over his shoulder and met the eyes of the young man following him. The younger man nodded at him, and Viscount McMaster sighed. He was annoyed with the pitying glances the younger man had leveled at him as he insulted Baron Mikoshiba on their trip here. As it turned out, his judgment was wrong.

I’ll admit I might have underestimated Baron Mikoshiba.

Since Rhoadseria’s class system was very rigid, it was rare for a commoner to become a noble. This was true all across the western continent; very few examples existed of commoners becoming nobles or even just high-ranking knights. There were, however, some low-ranking knights and bureaucrats who’d come from commoner origins. They weren’t nobles in the strictest sense of the word, but they weren’t commoners anymore either. In fact, most commoners would regard them as part of the ruling class, no different from a born noble.

The same didn’t hold true for the nobles, though. They saw the low-ranking knights and bureaucrats as, at best, honorary nobles—or rather, faux nobles. This was because many people misunderstood what the nobility was. A person didn’t become a noble just because they’d received a title, and nobles with long family histories were disgusted with the idea of an upstart noble.

Viscount McMaster was led deeper into the estate until they eventually stopped before a sturdy wooden door. The maid leading them slowly reached for the handle. As the door swung open, Viscount McMaster felt his breath stick in his throat.

“This is...”

The room was as large as the royal palace’s audience chamber and equivalent to a modern hotel’s event hall. Countless people filled the room, laughing and conversing.

Just how many nobles did he call here? Besides...

Viscount McMaster hadn’t thought the place would be deserted. Some powerful individuals had sent their notes vouching for this event. They were from Helena Steiner, a general and the Ivory Goddess of War; Count Bergstone, a noble whose political talents the late prime minister Marquis Ernest had recognized; and Count Zeleph, a noble whose latent political power hid behind his persona of an airheaded fool who stood in his brother-in-law’s shadow.

As much as the Rhoadserian nobles might have hated the upstart noble, they couldn’t very well ignore an invitation from Baron Mikoshiba. Still, Viscount McMaster hadn’t expected this many people to be here, once again underestimating the situation.

Is that Count Blackhide? And there, by the wall, the one laughing... Is that Count Heimbel?

Both of their noble families had supported Marquis Ernest during his tenure as prime minister and, like Count Bergstone, had been forced to spend years secluded in their fiefdoms.

“I see. It seems Count Bergstone has made his choice,” said a familiar voice from behind Viscount McMaster.

The viscount turned around. Standing there was a tall man, his blond hair combed back and his stylish mustache impeccably groomed. He was smiling.

The viscount was by no means short, but the man dwarfed him by ten centimeters. He looked to be in his midforties. His physique was balanced and toned and lacked any of the pudginess middle-aged men often had, but he wasn’t skinny or bony. Rather, he had an athletic build. More than anything, he exuded elegance. It was easy to imagine all the attention he must have received at social events in his youth.

“You... Is that you, Leonard?”

Viscount McMaster couldn’t mask his surprise at seeing his estranged cousin, with whom he hadn’t so much as exchanged letters with in years. There was no joy in his expression. If anything, he looked like he’d just run into someone he much preferred to never see again.

“It’s been a long time, Diggle. Over a decade, no?” Viscount Orglen said, winking.

“Yes... That sounds about right...” Viscount McMaster replied, smiling vaguely.

As pretentious as ever. Irritating man.

Leonard Orglen came from a renowned viscount family. Both House Orglen’s and House McMaster’s ancestors had been knights in service to the first king and founder of Rhoadseria, so despite the distance between their fiefdoms, the two houses were very close. They often sent their sons and daughters to each other, creating bonds of matrimony.

In recent years, the younger sister of Viscount McMaster’s father—in other words, his aunt—was sent to marry into House Orglen, and she gave birth to Leonard. If fraternity and friendship made for closer bonds, then Leonard was no doubt Viscount McMaster’s close ally.

I know that, but...

Allies though they were, Viscount McMaster found it difficult to put up with Leonard. High society was a hostile, cutthroat environment, and getting by with nothing but the help of one’s retainers was exceedingly difficult. One needed other noble families on their side, which was why nobles married among themselves—to bind their families by blood. Nevertheless, regardless of the fact that Viscount McMaster should rely on Leonard, he had his reasons for refusing to do so.

That wasn’t to say he was supposed to blindly trust Leonard just because they were relatives. In this world, even parents and children could kill one another over matters of inheritance, so it was wise to be wary of his cousin. But for reasons that had nothing to do with his survival as a noble, Viscount McMaster couldn’t bring himself to improve relations with Leonard. He simply couldn’t like the man.

Unlike the brusque and martial-minded Viscount McMaster, Viscount Orglen was a stylish, sophisticated man. He’d played music since his infancy, and both his singing and his performance with the zither could rival that of a professional troubadour. Were it not for his position as the elder son and heir to his family’s headship, he would have made a name for himself in the palace’s orchestra.

He was also skilled at dancing, both classical and more contemporary styles, and most nobles close to him said he was perhaps the finest dancer they knew. He’d even been Queen Lupis’s instructor in the performing arts for a time.

Like Viscount McMaster, Viscount Orglen was a mere governor on the frontier, but unlike Viscount McMaster, he had connections with the royal family and was well-known within the capital. Both he and Viscount McMaster were members of the late Marquis Ernest’s faction, but Viscount Orglen led a life that was nearly the opposite of Viscount McMaster’s, who’d remained in his domain since they lost the political struggle with Duke Gelhart.

Viscount Orglen’s skill in the arts just made things worse. He was a genius that achieved outstanding results in everything he tried. He was also handsome, which made him too perfect for Viscount McMaster to like. If the two of them were to stand side by side, it was clear whose company people would prefer between a fashionable dandy and a bald, bearlike man. Viscount McMaster was only there to highlight Viscount Orglen’s good points.

Leonard, however, seemingly had no intention of taking Viscount McMaster’s feelings into consideration. “Now, we should probably move away. We shouldn’t block the entrance, after all!” he said, gesturing to an unoccupied corner.

There’s something he wants to discuss, isn’t there?

Viscount McMaster caught Leonard’s meaning. The two of them had been estranged for over a decade, so he couldn’t be looking for idle chatter. Rekindling an old friendship wasn’t unheard of, but the place and timing being what it was, that didn’t seem to be his aim either.

The young man behind Viscount McMaster nodded, and the two of them followed Viscount Orglen.

One of the maids circling around the party noticed them walking across the room and called out to them. “Would you like some?” She was carrying a silver tray in her right hand, and on it were glasses full of amber-colored alcohol.

“Oh... Yes, thank you.” Viscount Orglen took two glasses from the tray and handed one to Viscount McMaster. “You’ll drink, yes?”

He basically forced the glass into Viscount McMaster’s hands, then brought his own glass to his nose to take in the scent. He didn’t wait for Viscount McMaster’s reply before he tasted the wine.

“Wonderful,” he remarked. “It’s sweet, easy to drink, and goes down smoothly. Well ripened, as white wine goes. I’m guessing this is a Qwiltantian Rott Grande?”

The maid gave him a soft smile, bowed her head, and returned to her job.

“Ah, I guess I got it wrong. So was it made in the Torphana Empire, on the central continent’s eastern side?” Viscount Orglen wondered, jokingly shrugging his shoulders. “Either way, she’s well educated, given she knew not to correct a guest’s mistake.”

Viscount Orglen’s gestures were stylish and elegant, implying that he was so used to acting this way that it came naturally to him. He then turned to Viscount McMaster, who still hadn’t sipped from his glass.

“It’s fine wine, Diggle. Better than what you’ll find in the palace, even. I’m not sure why you’re refusing to drink it, but a mere provincial governor like you won’t get many chances to drink something like this. You should relish the chance, if you ask me.”

Seeing his cousin’s satisfied smile, Viscount McMaster glared at him, his expression bitter.

Are you mad? We’re in enemy territory here!

For all they knew, the wine was poisoned, but Leonard scoffed at his cousin’s logic.

“I understand what you must be thinking, being a knight and all, but think about it. What are the odds that Baron Mikoshiba would go this far to assassinate a small noble from the middle of nowhere like you? If you really think this is what it’s all about, I’m sorry, but you’re being terribly self-conscious. Now set your stupid pride aside and enjoy the occasion, I say.”

Viscount McMaster went red in the face. The primary reason he hadn’t tasted the wine was because he was jealous that a minor baron could host a party on this scale, and Leonard had pointed it out to his face.

“To begin with,” Leonard continued, “Rhoadseria’s Ivory Goddess of War and the Counts Bergstone and Zeleph all vouched for this evening party. Given their clout, I doubt they’d stand for such methods. Besides, if he wanted to kill his guests, he wouldn’t be serving such fine wine. But if it worries you that much, I guess I could sample from your wine first.” He laughed and drank the remainder of the wine in his glass.

Now that Leonard had said as much, Viscount McMaster’s dignity was at risk. If people were to gossip about him being a coward, it would damage his warrior’s pride.

The young man behind him nodded, so Viscount McMaster gulped down the liquid in the glass. As he did, a bomb of aroma exploded in his nose.

“Well, how do you like it?” Leonard asked. “Was it worth giving up your petty pride for?”

Viscount McMaster only managed a dazed nod.

This is...

The flavor overtook his mouth with a richness and sweetness that dwarfed anything he’d tasted before. He wasn’t confident enough in his diction to describe the wine, though. What’s more, it was cooled to the ideal temperature for white wine.

It was perfect in every way. Even parties hosted by the royal house rarely served its guests drinks of this quality.

And it’s being served to all the guests here, at that, Viscount McMaster thought, looking around the party hall.

There were nobles from around thirty houses here, and since some of them had come with escorts, there were nearly two hundred guests. Offering such lavish hospitality to every single one of them must have required an absurd amount of money, much more than what could be written off as the scrambling of a nobody who’d stumbled into his title.

How can someone governing that cursed peninsula have the funds to pay for this?

Before Viscount McMaster could fully submerge himself in his thoughts, Leonard pulled him back to reality.

“Oh, looks like the host is showing himself.”

Viscount McMaster gazed at the entrance, where Ryoma Mikoshiba, followed by three others, entered the room.

♱

“Everything’s going well so far, but now’s where things really get started,” Ryoma whispered to Helena and the two counts standing behind him, who all silently nodded.

At first glance, the three of them seemed to be the same as always, but on closer inspection, their expressions were a bit stiff and tense. This was quite unusual. Helena was Rhoadseria’s general and a seasoned war hero who’d survived countless battles. Count Bergstone was no warrior, but he was adept at politics. And his stepbrother Count Zeleph, though mild-mannered, hid a talent for information warfare behind his unassuming appearance.

Soldiers and politicians weren’t the same, but all three of them were exceptional individuals, both in Rhoadseria and in the entirety of the western continent. They’d attended countless evening parties in the past, so what did they have to be tense about now? Anyone this nervous from a simple party wasn’t fit to lead a country.

Those who knew what Helena and the two counts were usually like would’ve been shocked to see them so high-strung now, but one couldn’t fault them for being so nervous. The Mikoshiba barony could rise and fall with this party’s outcome. To Ryoma, this moment was as critical as when he crossed the River Thebes during the civil war, or when he fought Count Salzberg in the battle for Epirus.

Since the general and the two counts had decided to devote themselves to House Mikoshiba, they shared its fate. They were under enormous pressure, even when compared to Ryoma. Perhaps they stood to lose even more than he did. Both counts were from respected noble houses with long histories, and their subjects’ lives hung in the balance. Helena was in danger of losing her glory as Rhoadseria’s Ivory Goddess of War. Not to mention, the lives of their families and their trusted retainers were on the line as well. They’d gone all in on a massive gamble, so some tension was to be expected.

“We’re taking a pretty big risk here,” Ryoma said, trying to dispel their anxiety, “but we prepared for this, so there shouldn’t be any problems during the evening party. Try not to be too nervous and just enjoy the evening.” He shrugged playfully. “We’re gonna be serving some great food.”

The Mikoshiba barony had put a lot of time and effort into planning this event. For one, a hundred experienced knights, handpicked from the Bertrand and Galveria baronies, guarded the mansion’s large garden. They were directly under the command of Count Salzberg’s Twin Blades, Robert and Signus, who now served Ryoma. Both were first-class warriors, so much so that some believed they could take Helena’s place as general. Having those two guard the mansion indicated that Ryoma was extremely serious and had his doubts about what might happen tonight.

It might have been excessive of me, but it’s better than being careless and taken by surprise. I do feel bad for those two, though.

Many nobles were invited to this evening party, and normally potential heirs like Robert and Signus would attend such an event. While their inheritance wasn’t officiated yet, Ryoma stood to profit from their gaining connections in noble society. Despite this, he’d asked them to work behind the scenes, which was somewhat of a shock.

Of course, Ryoma knew the chances of an attack were slim.

But they aren’t zero.

The worst scenario Ryoma envisioned was Lupis ordering the royal guards to attack. If that were to happen, Robert and Signus would serve as their rear guard while Ryoma and his entourage regrouped with three hundred soldiers stationed in Count Salzberg’s other estate and Lione’s detachment stationed in the forest surrounding this residence. After that, they’d return to their main base in the Wortenia Peninsula.

Ryoma had planned everything out to the tiniest detail and had covered every contingency. His preparation was a testament to how much hung in the balance tonight.

Ryoma turned to the three people behind him, his eyes full of cold calmness and burning determination.

“Let’s get started, then.”

With those words, the heavy doors before them opened, and Ryoma stepped into the room. As he did, he felt many pairs of eyes fix on him. Most of those gazes were dark and burning with negativity. The guests didn’t greet their host with applause, which was what Ryoma had told Laura and Sara was proper etiquette for his world’s high society.

Reality was harsh, even for Ryoma.

Scorn, envy, anger, a hint of caution... A few seem somewhat friendly toward me, but most of the guests seem to dislike me. Sakuya’s report did mention that most nobles in Rhoadseria were like this, so this isn’t a surprise, but I guess they really do hate the idea of an upstart like me gaining success. How petty.

Ryoma sighed, pretending not to notice their gazes. He knew that he wasn’t welcome in Rhoadseria’s aristocracy in the first place, but still, such blatant hatred made him uneasy.

Ryoma understood that their feelings about him weren’t particularly strange. In fact, he called them petty for it. This behavior wasn’t limited to Rhoadseria’s nobles either. People harbored darkness in their hearts even in the most ordinary situations. Not many genuinely wished to see their peers succeed.

Well, surprisingly few people can come to terms with their emotions like these two.

Ryoma glanced at the two middle-aged counts behind him. He’d expected the Counts Bergstone and Zeleph to envy him too. They’d bought the ire of the nobles’ faction’s leader, Duke Gelhart, and had been in a bad place for years. Despite being from renowned noble families, they had to lead their subjects and deal with continued harassment while being effectively trapped in their domains. They took pride in the fact that they’d kept their regime stable for years under such conditions.

They had the abilities needed to rule and the achievements to match them. Considering most nobles in Rhoadseria saw themselves as a privileged class and shirked their duties to enjoy the aristocratic lifestyle, the two counts were without a doubt first-class nobles.

That was precisely why they had mixed feelings about Ryoma. Both counts were in their midforties, but Ryoma hadn’t even reached his twenties. In this world, people married early in life, and he was young enough to be their child, maybe even a grandchild for some other nobles.

Yet they were gambling their entire futures on such a young man. They’d be insane if they didn’t feel nervous. They were thankful to Ryoma, yes. The nobles’ faction loathed both of them and basically waited for them to die in their domains, but Ryoma delivered them from that fate with his wit and wisdom.

They were still only human, though, and they couldn’t help but cringe at a boy like him being this powerful and influential. All the same, the reason it took Count Bergstone so long to join with Ryoma was partially because of his lingering loyalty to the Kingdom of Rhoadseria.

Ryoma didn’t resent them for it, nor did he see them as lesser men. Each person was unique, but deep down all men could envy others’ success and begrudge their own misfortune. The question was whether they kept it from showing or let it all out. Did they use their negative emotions to drag others down or to improve themselves?

The sad reality was that few people were like Count Bergstone, who could suppress his emotions and compromise. In that regard, people were the same, be it this world or Ryoma’s. So how would he deal with those narrow-minded people?

Ideally, I’d never need to get involved with them at all, but unfortunately...

The best way to be successful was to avoid the influence of problematic people. It was best to gently reject their intervention whenever possible. After all, arguments based on emotion never reached a compromise, and arguments based on logic often pushed the other party to become defensive. Being too insistent could devolve into a physical fight too. In the end, the more reasonable side had to compromise.

Sometimes a civil discussion solved the issue, but that usually took time. Bringing a third party in didn’t always work either, and took both time and money. With all that in mind, avoiding such discussions to begin with was probably the wisest option.

In modern society, this applied to situations like changing schools due to bullying, or changing jobs due to harassment. Nevertheless, avoiding troublesome people wasn’t always possible. A stalker couldn’t always be evaded, and sometimes, one couldn’t just walk away and leave.

Ryoma was in one such situation now, but his options were fairly limited. He could either physically remove the enemy, or he could pressure them into submission. However, killing all these Rhoadserian nobles at this evening party would be much too risky. Even if he did do that, destroying Rhoadseria’s ruling class would only destabilize the country to the point where it would cease to function.

Not that I care what happens to that woman, but I can’t make this work unless I use everyone and everything I can.

In truth, Ryoma was in the process of starting up his own organization. He was at the point where he was considering expanding his company, and the most important factor in doing so was manpower. No matter how good the materials he gathered, they were pearls cast before swine unless he had capable people to make use of them.

To build up manpower from scratch, he would need time to train his team accordingly. The ideal solution would be to gather skilled workers from the start, and stealing said workers from a rivaling company would make him stronger and his competitors weaker—killing two birds with one stone.

Let’s get started, then.

Ryoma signaled with his eyes to one of the maids waiting in the room’s corner. When he did, the maids picked up new trays prepared with drinks and began handing them out to the guests.

“Master Ryoma, here.” Laura, who’d appeared beside him at some point, handed him a glass.

Ryoma accepted it and addressed his guests. He greeted them, thanked them for coming, and then raised his glass.

“Cheers!”

The guests all raised their glasses. After confirming that they’d all done so, Ryoma signaled the Malfist sisters standing behind him.

“Now, I would like for you to enjoy the dishes we’ve prepared for you, as modest as they may be.”

At his words, the doors behind him opened wide, and a line of carts were wheeled into the hall.

♱

Kikuna Samejima, clad in a white cook’s coat, walked down the red carpet. Having finished her primary job, she hurried to the party hall to fulfill her remaining role, which was to ensure the guests’ satisfaction.

Surely I can stop by for a little while, right?

She might be asked to prepare a few more dishes, but for the most part, she had things wrapped up. The cooks in the kitchen could handle any extra requests that might pop up, so her sneaking out of the kitchen shouldn’t cause much of a problem.

In many high-class restaurants that served French and western dishes, it was customary for the staff to explain the concepts and cooking processes of the dishes to the customers. It could be a waiter or the chef themselves, but either way, it was a performance meant to close the distance between the restaurant and its customers. To that end, Kikuna’s desire to see the guests’ reactions wasn’t at all unusual.

Well, honestly, I don’t really need to go there personally...

But she had a specific reason to go to the party hall.

Kikuna had originally specialized in French cuisine. Before she was summoned to this world, she was an experienced chef who’d undergone tutelage in a famous French restaurant. She’d won international cooking competitions too, which were a sure pathway to success.

After several years of training, Kikuna returned to Japan, hoping to become an independent chef while focusing on her homeland’s flavors. Sadly, that dream shattered all too easily when she was summoned to this world. Much like many otherworlders, she’d experienced how hellish it could be here.

Sudou told me to be careful, so I’ll need to act as natural as possible, but...

Kikuna was at this estate because Ryoma Mikoshiba had ordered Simone Christof to hire a chef for his party. Simone had issued a request to the guild, and the guild had lunged at the chance to accept. A month later, Kikuna had the job.

There were two reasons Kikuna was chosen for Baron Mikoshiba’s request. The first was to create common ground between Ryoma Mikoshiba, governor of the Wortenia Peninsula, and the guild. Wortenia was known as a cursed no-man’s-land, but the monsters living there could be harvested for precious materials. Baron Mikoshiba also seemed to have a monopoly on endowed thaumaturgy equipment, which the guild suspected he got through trading with the demi-humans that inhabited the peninsula.

Also, until now, the peninsula had been home to pirates, so the guild hadn’t actively interfered with it. However, once Ryoma purged the pirates from the land, the Mikoshiba barony had quickly built the city of Sirius, and it’d become their base of operations, allowing the barony to function within the peninsula.

With all that in play, the guild was highly interested in establishing a branch in Sirius, but so far their requests had all been rejected. In fact, Ryoma seemed to be so opposed to the idea that he forbade any and all adventurers from entering the region. The guild had tried to negotiate multiple times, but nothing had come of it.

That was until Ryoma made a request for a chef. The guild probably saw it as a windfall and had immediately scrambled to find the right person to answer Ryoma’s request.

I can understand why they were so desperate...

It made sense that the guild would try to satisfy an uncooperative prospective business partner by going out of its way to do that person a favor. The guild hoped this would pave the way to a more welcoming relationship between it and the Mikoshiba barony.

Kikuna was here for another reason, but she didn’t quite understand it. She’d been sent by request of one of the Organization’s high officials, Akitake Sudou, but under two conditions: she was not to stand out, and she was not to do anything other than complete the tasks she was given.

There are so many rumors within the Organization about the Mikoshiba barony. When I was told to go work for the baron, I was sure they were going to ask me to poison him, but...

For a chef, the act of sullying one’s dish with poison was unforgivable. But Kikuna had already gone through this world’s baptism, and since the request came from the Organization that had saved her from this hell, she would’ve swallowed her pride and done it anyway. After all, Kikuna had already dirtied her hands for the Organization in the past, though she hadn’t resorted to poisoning to do it. She would mercilessly kill her targets, even if they were her own countrymen.

This time, however, Kikuna Samejima was asked to act as a chef and nothing more. It was honestly an anticlimactic outcome.

Still, his ideas really are intriguing. I can see why Sudou is so fascinated with him.

She’d only spoken to Ryoma directly a handful of times, but it was more than enough for her to realize just how interesting he was.

That baked bass pie he asked me to make... It’s probably a play on Talleyrand. What an idea...

She’d watched a maid carry off two dishes of the pie, yet she could only think of one explanation as to what the meaning behind them was.

Charles Maurice de Talleyrand-Périgord was a skilled French politician and a renowned gourmet. He was an important figure in world history, having served under the French Emperor Napoleon Bonaparte. He was also famous in the culinary world for having hired Marie-Antoine Carême, one of the forefathers of modern French cuisine. There were many anecdotes surrounding Talleyrand, including one about two trout.

One time, Talleyrand obtained two large trout. At the time, most ships used sails, and there was no way to refrigerate fish, so acquiring such large, wonderful trout was something only the most affluent people could do.

As a politician and a diplomat, Talleyrand wanted to use the trout to flaunt his riches and authority, yet he believed that serving two fish at the same time would seem pompous and needlessly draw the ire of his guests. Therefore, he came up with a plan. Talleyrand chose to make a show of dropping the fish to the floor, then serving the second fish in its place.

At first, his guests were drawn to the initial trout, marveling at its size. When their interest was piqued, the fish was spectacularly dropped to the floor, then the “replacement” dish was brought out at once. He’d crushed their expectations, only to build them back up again. By playing with people’s emotions in such a way, he was able to turn surprise into awe.

Ryoma’s decision to serve a baked bass pie resembled Talleyrand’s scheme.

Although, it’s not exactly the same...

Talleyrand had dreaded his guests’ reaction, so he’d restrained his bragging, but Ryoma was doing the complete opposite.

This world has no refrigeration technology, and the capital is far from the sea, so serving such a large bass is enough of a feat. And on top of that, he had a plethora of expensive ingredients added to it.

The bass had been transported to the capital while maintaining its freshness. This alone would be enough to shock any guest, but Ryoma’s trick didn’t end there. The moonlight herbs and evening dew mushrooms in the pie crust were normally used for nostrums, so only a handful of gourmets recognized them as delicacies. After tasting the pie, the guests would no doubt be surprised by the flavors in the dish.

Plus, there’s the plates and the other dishes.

All the utensils and dinnerware for the party had been made with endowed thaumaturgy that retained warmth and detected poisons. These seals weren’t remarkable on their own, but the sheer number of items was astonishing. There were over a thousand plates and platters overall, and enough knives and forks to accommodate hundreds of guests.

Kikuna couldn’t even begin to imagine how much it would cost to apply endowed thaumaturgy to all of that. Not to mention, the food was served with all sorts of decorations and arrangements.

For instance, Count Heimbel’s domain was famous for producing coal made of bamboo. Even so, coal was still just coal. It wasn’t that noteworthy of a product. Be that as it may, Ryoma used bowls and steamer baskets made from Count Heimbel’s bamboo to hold fruit and sweets.

No one would initially care whose domain the bamboo came from, but sooner or later, someone would notice. Even if they didn’t, it wouldn’t be a problem. As the host, Ryoma would certainly converse with the guests and casually mention it.

I bet they’ll be surprised.

As a professional chef, Kikuna could tell that the bamboo was well-made and of high quality. What’s more, bamboo goods were rare in this world, which made the baskets curious enough as it was. If Count Heimbel learned that they were made from his bamboo... Kikuna could easily guess how he’d react.

Tonight’s party used products from other nobles’ domains too.

The honey from Count Burkhide’s domain is famous, and the apples from Viscount Orglen’s domain are delicious.

What this all meant went without saying.

Many of the nobles here tonight will probably want to join the Mikoshiba barony’s economical sphere. We need to be cautious of him.

Nothing mattered more to nobles than managing their domains, and when it came to preserving their family’s honor, economic power mattered the most. Tonight’s evening party would prove to them that their domains could be lucrative.

Particular conditions had to be met to make their money tree bear fruit, though. For one, they needed a market where they could sell their products. Tonight, they would surely realize that the Mikoshiba barony, which controlled the sea routes of northern Rhoadseria, was a viable market.

The result of this realization would shake the power balance in Rhoadseria. It didn’t matter how much the nobles might have come to loathe Ryoma. In the face of his overwhelming economic and military might, most would lose the will to oppose him, and if they stood to receive scraps at his table, they had all the more reason to lay down their arms.

I heard he was summoned here as a high schooler. I’m surprised he knew of Talleyrand.

Most chefs had heard of Talleyrand, but people without culinary backgrounds rarely knew of him. If nothing else, the trout story wasn’t in world history textbooks for high school students.

Maybe he just happens to be interested in cuisine, but...

Kikuna soon reached the hall. Based on the music the orchestra was currently playing, they were in the middle of the ball. The guards opened the doors before her, allowing her inside, and sure enough, Ryoma Mikoshiba was in the middle of dancing with some noble lady.

The surrounding nobles watched his graceful steps with scorn. They were likely displeased that he wasn’t humiliating himself in front of everyone.

Kikuna looked around and spotted the Malfist sisters standing together by one of the walls. They were watching Ryoma dance with satisfied smiles.

I see. So he covered all his bases to avoid the nobles’ traps too.

It was hard to believe that Ryoma would be familiar with ballroom dancing as a high schooler, meaning he had to have acquired this skill after being summoned.

We have to be wary of him.

Holding on to that thought, Kikuna approached the Malfist sisters to ask the two girls clad in maid uniforms what their impressions of today’s dishes were.