Chapter 93
Chapter 93
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 15
Chapter Title: Poking at His Pride (2)
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"Oh ho."
As soon as I stepped into the banquet hall, admiration naturally slipped out.
Just like yesterday, the tables were laden with lavish feasts that looked ready to snap their legs.
*The stuff I saw yesterday was impressive enough, but they've put even more effort in today.*
Traces of extravagance were evident in the local specialties from every corner of the empire and the rare ingredients used without restraint. It was as if they were shouting at the top of their lungs about the imperial family's wealth.
"Today's spot is yours too."
I settled right in the area overflowing with citrus fruits like lemons and grapefruits. While I was gleefully devouring the treats, a heavy baritone called out to me.
"Young Lord Abel."
Somehow, I had a premonition that something similar to yesterday would happen. But today was different—I had been waiting for him.
"Lord Mikel."
Mikel stood beside me, accompanied by the same entourage as yesterday.
His complexion looked a bit haggard, probably from overindulging. He'd even rushed into the morning meeting at the last second.
*Well, considering how many bottles of whiskey we knocked back just the two of us.*
It was clear he'd pushed himself harder than usual out of competitive spirit. And here I was, perfectly fine after lighting that fire.
"Are you feeling alright?"
When I asked with a pristine face, Mikel twitched his mustache.
"Do I look unwell?"
"You were downing that hot soup one after another at the banquet, so I thought your stomach might be acting up."
"When was th—... ahem."
Our seats at the banquet hall had been quite far apart.
But observing what he ate posed no problem at all. Thanks to my Requiem-enhanced eyesight, I could even count the exact number of chunks in his soup.
"I just happened to fancy the soup."
Mikel stroked his chin while scrutinizing my face closely.
"Young Lord Abel looks perfectly fine, though."
"No reason I shouldn't be. It's not like I have a hangover or anything."
"......"
The surrounding nobles listening in bit their lips and turned away. I could see them suppressing bursts of laughter.
*Never seen Lord Mikel get it like this before.*
*He definitely won't touch whiskey for a while now.*
Smiles laced their exchanged glances with such whispers. It seemed they'd suffered plenty at his hands before.
*I've unintentionally given them a satisfying spectacle.*
Mikel cleared his throat with a loud harrumph and changed the subject.
"Young Lord Abel seems to be enjoying the palace cuisine quite thoroughly."
"Yes, I plan to eat my fill diligently until tomorrow."
*So Requiem will finally settle down a bit.*
I swallowed those words inwardly.
"Ha ha, just like me. Whenever I visit the palace, I let my belt out and feast."
Mikel's tone was far friendlier than yesterday.
Not only that—his gaze toward me had softened immensely. In that icy pale blue eye, I realized warmth could indeed seep in.
"As you age, it's harder to eat big portions like in your youth. But opportunities like this don't come often, so you have to push a little, right?"
Mikel chuckled, his shoulders shaking, causing his outer garment to flutter. Despite the chillier weather, the thin fabric revealed his well-trained forearms.
*As expected of a northern veteran.*
I eyed his physique steadily.
His body was evenly developed, with not a single superfluous muscle. The scars dotting his forearms spoke of years spent on the front lines.
*Let's see...*
I subtly activated my Absolute Domain.
Indeed, it radiated a life force comparable to Diego's. If Diego's was a bright lantern, Mikel's was an unyielding torch burning steadily.
*I still can't beat him yet.*
I'd gained much experience scaling the western mountains, but surpassing the original story's top powerhouses seemed a stretch for now.
*Just a bit more, and I should be there.*
My goal wasn't to kill them. That I could do anytime—right now, even.
What I wanted was overwhelming strength to dominate them utterly. To reach a level where I wouldn't lose to anyone.
"......"
My fingers twitched. The fighting spirit that had lain dormant stirred slyly.
*It's been ages since I had a proper fight.*
This was a prime chance to test the skills honed sweeping monsters in the western mountains.
*Time to bait the hook.*
I gauged the mood to seize the moment.
"So, shall we have a drink today too?"
Mikel already wore an itchy, restless expression.
...This old man still hasn't learned?
"Oh dear, my goodness."
The other nobles waved their hands and backed away.
"I'll pass today."
"The alcohol from yesterday hasn't fully worn off yet..."
As they retreated with excuses, only I remained.
"Very well."
Of course, I had no intention of refusing. The amount we shared would build his sense of camaraderie proportionally.
"Youth is truly a blessing."
Mikel smirked and ordered a different drink from yesterday.
It was far stronger than the whiskey—known in high society as the Devil's Breath.
This country sure loves breaths.
"Right, Young Lord Abel."
Mikel grabbed the bottle brought by the attendant and popped the cork.
"So, what is this favor you want from me?"
He came at me straight out of nowhere.
*Oh ho.*
It seemed the groundwork I'd laid had hit home. He'd probably pondered all yesterday what my request might be.
*If he brings it up first, that's perfect for me.*
I accepted the glass he offered with a gentle smile.
"Were you curious?"
"You dangled it yesterday and didn't follow through—who wouldn't be?"
"And you'll hear me out?"
"Hmm."
Mikel rolled the glass in his hand once.
"To be honest, I feel like I'd grant anything except a request for my daughter's hand."
Instead of drinking, he fixed his gaze on me.
"Your feats yesterday and today impressed me greatly. They'd be a huge boon to the Nod Territory."
"I'm glad to hear that."
"Of course, it benefits your own territory too, so..."
Mikel's poignant eyes took in my face steadily. Satisfaction filled most of that look.
"Anyway, that's my honest sentiment. So, speak freely. What is your request?"
I downed my glass in one gulp.
"Aren't you full?"
The devil's breath laced my voice with a sweet aroma.
Mikel shifted his gaze from my empty glass, looking puzzled.
"As I said earlier, I ate heartily with my belt loosened. But why do you ask?"
"Then, allow me to suggest a way to aid digestion."
Staring into Mikel's slightly widened eyes, I said curtly.
"I'd like to cross swords with you, Lord Mikel."
Silence fell around us. Not just Mikel—even the nobles who'd been listening shut their mouths.
"...Are you serious?"
Mikel set his glass down entirely, his drinking mood vanished.
"I did sense your aura was sharp and well-honed."
His narrowed eyes scanned me from head to toe.
"No wonder you withstood my pressure unscathed. There's a reason."
I affirmed him with a quiet smile. Mikel fell silent, lost in thought.
"I heard..."
Finally, he spoke slowly.
"That your father never taught you the sword."
"Yes, that's the rumor."
By phrasing it as 'rumor,' Mikel's eyebrow arched sharply.
"So it's not true?"
"Why else would Father give me his seal and send me here?"
I spoke with utter confidence, shoulders squared. Mixing a touch of falsehood with truth makes the lie seem real enough.
"It's true I troubled Father with my youthful follies, but that's the past."
"......"
"Naturally, I received sword training before coming here."
*Though it was the sloppy kind I wrested from Liam and Diego.*
"Ovest swordsmanship isn't the easiest style to pick up."
"It's enough to protect myself."
The nobles who'd been listening quietly chimed in cautiously.
"We understand Young Lord Abel's confidence, but sparring with Lord Mikel won't be easy."
"He's infamous for his harsh training."
"You won't walk properly for a while afterward."
Genuine concern etched their faces. I flashed them an eager grin.
"How can a man lack that much spirit when receiving instruction?"
I wiggled my now-perfectly-healed right arm for emphasis.
"I even broke my right arm learning from Father once."
"Whoa."
The nobles sighed pityingly.
"Well, Diego Kindriel must have been ruthless."
"Wolves push their cubs off cliffs to teach them."
Diego had trained me harshly, sure. But seeing it romanticized like this felt awkward.
One whispering noble glanced at Mikel.
"Truth be told, Lord Mikel has a history of..."
"Ahem, I suppose I have."
Mikel crossed his arms in acknowledgment.
"My daughter dislocated her shoulder learning the sword from me too."
"Ah, you mean Lady Lea?"
I feigned innocent surprise.
Lea Nod Conchellare.
Mikel's eldest daughter, his most cherished heir, and the future wielder of the winter sword, Aria.
From childhood, she'd learned the sword from Mikel. The process was as brutal and cold as the north wind on snowy peaks.
That grueling training would ultimately let her surpass her father.
*Of course, at the cost of a massive sacrifice.*
I stared at the man who would become that sacrifice—Mikel. Part of why I'd worked to win his favor was this.
*When I return, he dies.*
Swept away in the massive blizzard Aria unleashes.
Before the empire's mightiest swordsmanship vanished alongside those shoulders, I needed to learn even a fraction from him.
"Yes, that's right..."
Mikel's eyes grew distant, as if tracing the past.
"Lea, that girl—she's my daughter, but so tenacious. Her shoulder barely healed before she came at me again."
"I see."
I nodded enthusiastically, pretending it was all new to me despite knowing full well.
"Impressive. Lady Lea's skills must be formidable, seeing how you've entrusted your back to her."
"...I'm not sure if that's good for her."
A soft sigh escaped Mikel's lips.
"If she goes even a day without a sword, it's like her body gets antsy. That's why I hesitated to teach her."
He shrugged slowly.
"No parent beats their child. And our girl's stubbornness? Tougher than a minotaur's horn."
...That grotesque monster?
The thought crossed my mind, but recalling the original Lea's tenacity, I nodded.
*She truly was a tough woman.*
Mikel murmured softly, gazing into the distance.
"What parent wants to see delicate hands blister and skin roughen?"
"......"
"She could marry into a fine family and live happily, comfortably..."
Watching him, I inwardly clicked my tongue. It reminded me of a certain mother-daughter pair in my territory.
*He doesn't know his daughter any better than they do.*