A Big Catch
The atmosphere in the banquet hall was far more subdued and relaxed than before.
Well, that was only natural. There was no way the wild fervor of a banquet that had raged all night could carry over into the next day with the same intensity. Come nightfall, the drunkards would sober up, stumble back in, and fan the flames anew. For now, though, barely half the guests remained, huddled in small groups and speaking in hushed, murmuring tones.
I didn't have the slightest desire to join any of those conversations.
"...Don't they ever get tired? They sure keep themselves busy."
Drawing people in, pushing them away, gauging motives, digging for hidden agendas, determining friend from foe, weighing each other's trustworthiness... Aristocratic banter was essentially politics armed to the teeth with paranoia. Watching them keep it up endlessly without ever seeming bored was almost worthy of respect.
"Did I pick the wrong time to show up? This is turning out to be a lot less entertaining than I expected."
"Whatever do you mean? Personally, I rather prefer this quiet atmosphere. It gives us far more time to enjoy each other's company in private."
The moment I grumbled over my dampening enthusiasm, Muriel immediately countered and linked her arm through mine.
"Hmm..."
Quietly relishing the soft, yielding sensation pressed against my arm, I strolled across the banquet hall. We settled at a conveniently vacant table, where Muriel and I began indulging in wine and fine food.
"By the way, Lord Aljen, did you eat properly while I was away?"
"...Nagging the second we sit down? Don't worry, I fed myself just fine, so butt out."
"You look somewhat thinner for someone who claims to have managed just fine. It seems I will have to ensure you are thoroughly nourished for the foreseeable future."
She carved off half her steak, transferred it onto my plate, and dragged her chair right up against mine.
"Allow me to feed you."
"...You're doing this on purpose, aren't you?"
I asked while acutely aware of the aristocrats sneaking furtive glances in our direction ever since we walked in. Muriel offered a wicked smile.
"Of course it is on purpose. Wouldn't this solidify my position as Lord Aljen's primary wife in their eyes?"
"Cut the crap. Primary wife, my ass. If that's your angle, go change out of those clothes first."
I snorted and gestured at the neat maid uniform she wore, but she simply pressed her shoulder even closer against mine with an air of sultry intimacy.
"Who can say? Rumors originating from banquets like this tend to be accepted as gospel truth. Everyone here operates on political calculations, you see, so they naturally assume the parties involved harbor political motives of their own."
"...So you're saying those bastards will look at me strutting into the hall with you and rubbing our affection in their faces, and they'll assume it's entirely calculated? That there's some grand political scheme behind it?"
"Precisely."
"...I'll never understand why people choose to live like that."
"Does it displease you?"
"It displeases me immensely. Don't you ever pull this stunt again."
"Hehe. Very well, I shall refrain in the future. But please, indulge me just this once—I would hate to let such a golden opportunity slip by."
She gave a cheeky wink and brought a tender bite of meat toward my lips.
"......"
This little vixen.
She clearly knew how pretty she was, assuming a single display of coyness would make me let her off the hook.
"......"
Then again, even if I refused to let it slide, what could I actually do about it?
Could I lift a finger against her?
Nope.
Not a single damn thing.
Not only in terms of raw martial power... but now, thanks to her soaring prestige, I stood a fair chance of losing even in high-society standing. She was, after all, an extraordinarily rare and precious Sword Master.
"Ah, the sheer sorrow of being utterly powerless..."
"Whatever are you mumbling about all of a sudden? Come now, eat your meat."
"Mmph—!"
I glared daggers at her as I chewed through the steak shoved forcefully into my mouth. How on earth was I supposed to get back at this mischievous creature?
"Fufu. Your gaze is particularly sharp and wicked today. Are you plotting something?"
"...Sigh. Forget it."
Slumping my shoulders, I swallowed the mouthful of meat.
"Is it delicious?"
"It's edible."
"Then please have some more. You must finish everything on this plate, at the very least."
"How the hell am I supposed to eat all of this? This is straight-up force-feeding torture... Would you cut me some slack if I confessed the location of a black magician's secret hideout or something?"
"Do you know of one?"
"I know several, actually. Why? Curious?"
"......"
After staring intently at me for a beat, she gave a wry smile and shook her head.
"I am curious, yes, but I shall pretend I heard nothing just now."
"Why? When you hear about a black magician's hideout, doesn't your instinct scream to go wipe it out?"
"It is not that the thought fails to cross my mind, but rather that you clearly have no intention of doing so yourself, Lord Aljen."
"True enough. They'll be crushed eventually, but the time isn't now."
The villainous strongholds and black magician dens I was aware of all had to serve as valuable experience points for the protagonist down the line. It sat a little uncomfortably with me knowing innocent people might suffer until the protagonist finally eradicated them, but if I went around stamping out every evil right this instant, the protagonist wouldn't be able to grow. And the protagonist had to grow so the Holy Sword could mature alongside him—which was the only way to defeat the Demon God in the grand scheme of things.
Sacrificing the few for the sake of the many... sounded revolting when put into words, didn't it?
"......"
"Lord Aljen. Please do not make that face."
Muriel took my chin in her hand, turning my face toward hers so our eyes met squarely. Her gaze was brimful of soft, gentle concern.
"Do not lose yourself in the distant future; look at the present before you. And in this present, simply do what you wish to do."
"...Is that really okay?"
"It is entirely fine. It brings me greater joy that way, too. No one has the right to blame you, Lord Aljen. You have done nothing wrong."
"......"
I held her gaze for a quiet moment before giving a slow nod.
"I suppose so. Yeah, you're right."
"Yes, indeed."
Offering a tender smile, she began softly caressing my thigh beneath the table. From that wanton touch, a provocative, sultry heat seeped out, deliberately stoking base desires.
"If possible, I would be delighted if you were more honest in expressing your lust as well..."
"Don't push your luck."
"...Hmph. I truly cannot fathom why you restrain yourself so. You clearly fancy me."
"......"
I glared at her through narrowed eyes, but she merely struck a coy, unrepentant pose, showing no intention of backing down.
"Good grief... quit badgering me."
When I waved my hand dismissively in feeble protest, she glared right back. The slight difference between her glare and mine was that she never stopped at merely looking cross—she always demanded payment in full.
"Mmmph?!"
Another massive chunk of meat was shoved unceremoniously into my mouth, filling it to the brim.
"...Lord Hangil. When a woman seduces you this brazenly, accepting her advances is basic gentlemanly etiquette, you know? I took the liberty of explaining, just in case you were unaware."
I didn't care to know, nor did I have any intention of adhering to the etiquette of some medieval fantasy land.
Chomp, chew.
Listening to her voice whispering intimately in my ear, I was forced to work my jaw. The expertly cooked steak was so tender it practically melted as it slid down my throat.
"Gulp..."
Still, having that much meat forced down at once left my mouth parched, so I grabbed my wine glass and chugged deeply to wash it all down.
"Phew... Hey. Muriel."
"...Yes?"
"Don't rush me like that. You think I want things to be this way?"
"......"
"I've come to accept that this life is mine now, but that doesn't change the fact that this body belongs to Stanashila Aljen. Doing that sort of thing with this body still makes me uncomfortable. You know that damn well."
"......"
"...Just wait. If you wait patiently for me... I'll give you what you want. Eventually."
"......"
Despite the genuine sincerity in my voice, she merely averted her eyes with a pouting, sullen expression. ...Was it just my imagination, or had her emotional reactions grown significantly richer ever since she reached the Master rank?
In any case, continuing this conversation would only make things awkward and sour both our moods.
"Muriel. Setting that aside, why don't you tell me about the trial you went through? To be honest, I've been pretty curious."
"......"
"Hey. Are you really going to keep ignoring me?"
"......"
"What are you, a petulant brat?"
"......"
Letting out a heavy sigh, I stared at her profile. Then, quite suddenly, a surge of irritation welled up within me.
No, seriously, isn't this absurdly unfair? What the hell did I do wrong to deserve the silent treatment?
"Hey. Muriel."
"......"
When she still refused to answer, I grabbed both sides of her face, hauled her around to face me, and crushed my lips against hers in ravenous demand.
"Mmh?! Nn-chup—?!"
Even for someone of the Master rank, she clearly hadn't anticipated such a bold move; her eyes flew wide in shock. As her body stiffened momentarily in surprise, I pulled her even closer, deepening the kiss and sliding my tongue past her lips. Almost on pure conditioned reflex, her tongue tangled eagerly with mine.
"Churp, mmh... Haa-nh, nnh...!"
It was a sticky, protracted, deeply intimate kiss. Beyond the shameless entanglement of our tongues, we tasted every inch of each other's mouths, exchanging thick, scalding saliva and feverish breath.
"Wait...?"
"Wh-What in the world...?"
"Oh, my word..."
I could feel the surrounding gazes piercing through us—some flustered, others openly disgusted—yet I paid them no heed, claiming her lips with even greater fervor. How many minutes did we spend lost entirely in that kiss?
"Phew..."
Slowly pulling back, I drank in the sight of her flushed, crimson face.
"Satisfied now?"
"Mmh, ahem... Cough."
She repeatedly licked her swollen lips, savoring the lingering heat of the kiss, before letting out an awkward cough under my steady gaze. Raising a hand, she frantically fanned her burning cheeks to cool down.
"I asked if you're satisfied."
"...Yes. More than enough. I apologize, Lord Aljen."
Watching her bow her head in sheepish submission, I sipped my wine with a pang of pity. I had acted entirely out of spite, but seeing her this thrilled over a mere kiss... should I just close my eyes and take the final plunge with her? To be frank, brushing her off and keeping her at arm's length was rapidly approaching its limit.
...No, absolutely not. Doing something like that out of sheer sympathy before my own heart was completely settled would only poison our relationship in the long run.
"Well, well. How terribly passionate. I have attended countless banquets in my time, yet I have never witnessed a spectacle quite so scandalous."
"Hm?"
Just then, a neatly dressed young nobleman approached our table with a suave, affable smile. His face was entirely unfamiliar. I searched through my encyclopedic memory of the setting, but no notable character matched his features.
"Greetings. This is our first time conversing, is it not? I am Ernis Gurka."
Just as I thought—a complete nobody.
"Is that so? I'm Stanashila Aljen."
When I offered that half-hearted reply, he faltered for a fraction of a second before forcing an even broader smile onto his face.
"Fufu. It is truly an honor. To think I would converse directly with the man of such illustrious rumors."
"Spare me the flattery. What do you want?"
"...Hmph."
Evidently thrown off balance by my sheer rudeness, he seemed lost for words, awkwardly smoothing down his lapels to mask his discomfort.
"I asked what you want."
"...My, my. You certainly possess an impatient temperament."
"If you've got no business, beat it. Can't you see we were having a moment here?"
I slung an arm around Muriel's waist and pulled her against me. For an instant, a flash of blatant contempt flickered across his eyes. God, I'd love to gouge those arrogant eyeballs right out of his skull.
"Fufu... In that case, may I be so bold as to state my business directly?"
"Go ahead. You have my permission."
Grind!
I could have sworn I heard the sound of molars cracking from somewhere.
"I have heard that Sir Aljen not only perceives both the past and the future, but also commands all the knowledge in this world."
"Is that how the rumor spread? Total nonsense."
"...You are far too modest."
"What makes you think it's modesty?"
"Because it is inconceivable that both Her Imperial Highness the Third Princess and the Saintess would accompany a man who was anything less."
...A little scratch, and out comes the venom.
"So? You're saying you want a piece of wisdom from me too?"
"I would consider it the highest honor."
"Hmm. I don't really feel like it. Why should I waste my breath on someone whose past is utterly unremarkable and whose future holds zero promise?"
I shrugged with a sly, infuriating smirk. A flash of murderous rage surfaced on his face before he forced it back down.
"...I have also heard that Sir Stanashila Aljen guided knights toward sudden awakenings and elevated their cultivation realms with nothing more than a few words."
"Did I do that? Well, maybe I did. And?"
"How about we engage in a little wager?"
"A wager?"
"Fufu... Recently, I took a rather capable knight into my service. He is an exceptional talent whom I expect to attain the rank of Sword Master in the near future."
"Oh-ho."
"Therefore, to liven up the banquet's spirits, how about a duel between my personal escort knight and a knight put forth by Sir Aljen?"
"You want to wager on a duel?"
"Indeed. Naturally, considering the opponent would be a knight of the illustrious House Stanasila, the likelihood of my victory is exceedingly slim. However, crossing blades with a powerhouse would surely broaden my escort's horizons, would it not? Furthermore, if he were fortunate enough to receive guidance from Sir Aljen, it would hardly be a losing proposition for me."
"...I really don't care for the way you talk."
I scowled, seeing straight through his ploy of using false humility to corner the Stanasila name. The strong were never supposed to shy away from a challenge. If one failed to periodically flaunt their power, lesser beings would inevitably doubt that authority and try to climb over them. The moment I refused this challenge, unsavory rumors would spread like wildfire. They would claim House Stanasila possessed a mighty knight order yet shrank from a simple duel out of cowardice, whisper that something was wrong within the ducal ranks, and boast that the famed Stanasila Knights were nothing but craven frauds.
And this bastard would undoubtedly exploit those rumors for political leverage. He had proposed this bet knowing full well what was at stake.
"Pardon me. It seems I became somewhat overexcited. I apologize if I caused offense."
"I couldn't care less. So, is that formidable escort knight of yours the mountain of meat standing behind you?"
I gestured with my chin toward the lightly armored man standing silently in his wake. Ernis nodded with exaggerated pride.
"Precisely! His name is Shabat Rex!"
"Hmm..."
I looked the man up and down, though with my own abilities, gauging Rex's exact combat tier was impossible. All I could tell was that he had a menacing bald head and a ridiculously muscular frame, making him look undeniably formidable.
"...He doesn't look all that tough to me, honestly."
Naturally, I deliberately voiced the exact opposite of my genuine impression.
"...Pardon?"
"A guy of that caliber hardly warrants troubling a knight of House Stanasila. My maid sitting right here should be more than enough to handle him."
"Hahaha... What an amusing joke..."
"Who's joking? Muriel. Get ready."
"Understood."
Flashing a wicked, teasing smile that only I could see, Muriel instantly masked her features into a cold, impassive expression and rose from her seat.
"Are you... truly serious?"
"Dead serious. Ah, but before that—what are you putting on the line when you lose?"
"......"
Skrrrrt!
There went the sound of teeth grinding to dust again. I honestly worried for the state of his enamel. Living like that would come back to bite him when he got old.
"Heh, hehehe... Since I possess nothing of equivalent prestige to Sir Aljen... I shall put up something vulgar: gold. One million gold. How does that sound?"
"Oh, so you've got deep pockets, huh?"
Smirking, I gave an approving nod.
"Fine. It's a bet."
"...You will come to regret this. She appears to be a personal servant whom you treasure dearly... Are you certain you will be fine? Even if you lose her?"
"Kek, khaha."
The sheer absurdity of his confidence made me burst out laughing. How on earth he managed to interpret my amusement was anyone's guess, but his face flushed bright crimson, trembling with rage now that every trace of his practiced smile had vanished entirely.