Chapter 59
Chapter 59
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 59
Chapter Title: The Elder's Warm Welcome
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"…Nanny, what was that? Alex, that bastard, didn't come?"
Isabel asked her nursemaid once more to make sure she'd heard right.
It had been that shocking.
Who was Alex Lichtenauer, after all?
After Paon Lichtenauer, an unparalleled warrior, ascended as patriarch, people thought the Lichtenauer Martial Clan had reached its absolute peak and there'd be no greater golden age.
Where a great tree grows, no other plants can thrive properly.
They figured the next generation of warriors, crushed by Paon's overwhelming presence, wouldn't be able to spread their wings.
Yet, as if mocking those predictions, the clan produced one brilliant talent after another, almost like they'd been waiting in the wings.
In an ordinary era, any one of them could have claimed the patriarch's seat with ease. With so many emerging at once, the continent's people declared it the clan's true golden age.
Alex stood at the pinnacle among those luminaries, never once yielding his top spot.
If time passed like this, he'd effortlessly succeed Paon as patriarch.
And that wasn't all.
One might expect someone so absorbed in his own talent to neglect everything else, but Alex made appearances at every royal event, steadily forging solid ties with countless powerhouses.
A lion's might paired with a fox's cunning.
That was the Alex that Isabel knew.
She didn't just dislike him—she despised him. But she had to acknowledge his abilities, at least.
'And that man sent his younger brother instead of coming to this banquet himself?'
This event was no ordinary birthday celebration.
It was her coming-of-age ceremony—her father, King Demur Aslan's most cherished daughter.
Naturally, even foreign powers had no choice but to dispatch envoys far more prominent than usual.
Yet he'd yield this golden opportunity to mingle with envoys from every corner of Agena—just because he disliked her?—handing it off to his brother?
'He's not that kind-hearted.'
What on earth was going on?
As her thoughts raced, the nursemaid answered her question.
"Yes, just as I said, Your Highness. I don't know the reason, but the Second Young Lord of the clan did come... Oh, the looks on the guests' faces! Even I felt secondhand embarrassment watching."
The nursemaid shook her head ruefully before chiding Isabel.
"……."
"So please, attend tomorrow as well, Your Highness. I know you don't care for the Lichtenauer Martial Clan... but the Second Young Lord has, well, those rumors, you know."
The nursemaid tried to persuade the silent Isabel.
No matter the internal strife between Isabel and the clan, it was still a fight within Aslan Kingdom.
The nursemaid was an Aslan woman born and bred.
At the very least, seeing one of the kingdom's pillars disrespected by foreign envoys rubbed her the wrong way.
"…All right. I'll try to make an appearance tomorrow."
Having sorted her thoughts under the nursemaid's urging, Isabel slowly nodded.
"Really? You've thought it through wisely, Your Highness!"
The nursemaid was delighted, hoping this might prompt Isabel to reconsider her views even slightly.
Unfortunately, Isabel's reason for attending had nothing to do with Ian.
'The clan's Second Young Lord... Supposedly a total dimwit, right?'
Ian Lichtenauer.
Born to the most illustrious bloodline in a family overflowing with starry talents, yet the one who received the harshest evaluations of them all.
Alex wouldn't send his deficient brother to such a crucial event for no reason.
'If I probe the Second Young Lord, I might learn what's going on with Alex.'
If the rumors were true and he was half-witted, he'd likely be starved for kindness from others.
A little warmth, and he'd probably spill everything he knew.
"Oh, and the Magic Tower envoys arrive tomorrow too, so please, Your Highness, mind your manners in receiving them."
Oblivious to Isabel's scheming, the nursemaid simply reminded her once more.
"Got it, now out with you. I'm tired and want to rest."
Shoving the nursemaid out, Isabel lay down to sleep—but sleep wouldn't come.
'…Ian, the Second Young Lord.'
A pitiful figure, raised without ever holding his head high in the family, overshadowed by his serpent-cold brother Alex.
'…Depending on the situation, it wouldn't hurt to look after him a little.'
For some reason, even as she planned to exploit him, Isabel felt a twinge of pity for Ian.
The second day in Shurton.
As the banquet dragged on identically to the day before, Ian tuned his ears to the chatter around him, endlessly pondering Paon's intentions.
"This winter's mild temperatures should mean a bumper crop."
"Really? Then sell at a slight discount this time. In return, we'll buy two-tenths more volume."
"Hmm, what about three-tenths?"
Crop yields, first.
"The Leviathan dominating the Northern Sea wiped out another Kreep Merchant fleet."
"Heavens. What's Emperor Siegfried planning?"
"Word is, the furious emperor's already declared a massive troop deployment."
"Haha, that'll sort it out soon enough. A mere sea serpent..."
Up to news from his homeland in the northern continent.
Sorting through the varied talk, Ian began focusing on conversations that seemed likeliest to align with Paon's will.
"Hoho, Bishop Giovanni. How fares the Holy Kingdom these days? I hear the Torpenhau barbarians were quiet last winter."
"Haha, thanks to the Lord's grace. Still, Pang Kingdom must be fretting. Those mad bandit hordes are rampaging across empires and kingdoms alike..."
"…Hoho, with the kingdom's deep reserves, we'll manage somehow."
'Pang Kingdom's seeing bandit forces expand, and the Holy Kingdom's tensions are escalating not just with Torpenhau but Darmar Kingdom too. The answer might be in there.'
Crop talk offered no room for clan involvement, and the northern continent had no need to borrow their hands.
But those two's exchange was different.
A single point of contact on either side could let them carve new influence into the eastern or western continents.
Dispatching even to the royals suggested expectations of results, so Ian pegged this as the highest probability.
'The issue is which side offers more gains...'
Hard to judge yet.
As Ian leaned in to listen more intently, another conversation caught his ear.
"Look, Princess Isabel's attending today!"
"Huh, she never shows unless it's her actual birthday... Something's up."
"Maybe becoming an adult's changed her mind?"
"Who knows—only she does. Still, I've heard King Demur dotes on her, and her poise is stunning."
Talk of Isabel, infamous for skipping all but birthday banquets, now personally greeting guests.
But Ian tuned it out quickly.
'No point wasting attention on a ticking bomb.'
Princess Isabel was the woman who made every clan member shake their head.
The less contact, the better—which was why Ian hadn't spared her a glance.
About an hour after the envoys buzzed over why she'd appeared and Ian focused on Pang and the Holy Kingdom...
"The Magic Tower's Third Elder, Elder Lühen, has arrived!"
The herald's cry announcing new VIPs silenced the banquet hall's murmurs.
Thud, thud!
Mages in long robes trailing to their feet entered in procession.
The flame motifs on their robes openly declared them from the Elemental school's faction, masters of elemental magic.
Ignoring the stares, they marched silently until halting before Isabel, bowing slightly.
The lead mage, diminutive, shed his robe—revealing a gleaming bald pate.
A shabby, comical old man, yet no one dared dismiss him.
None had the guts to judge the Elemental school's head and Magic Tower's No. 4 by looks.
"Heh heh! Greetings, Your Highness."
"…It's been a while, Elder Lühen."
"Heh heh heh! To think you'd remember this wretched old man's name. Truly an honor. You've grown into such a beauty."
"…I'm not so rude as to forget the man who taught me magic."
Lühen gazed at Isabel with the fondness of a grandfather eyeing his granddaughter, but she merely let his look slide off coolly.
Princess or not, Lühen was a Magic Tower heavyweight.
Such icy demeanor toward him.
Some envoys might deem it rude, but neither Lühen nor Aslan's nobles did.
A few years back, the boisterous Fifth Elder Raven—drunk as a skunk—had publicly humiliated himself before her at a banquet.
She showed this much decorum only because Lühen was the Tower's mildest, most royal-friendly elder.
(The Tower knew that full well when dispatching him.)
"Oh, that's the famous Elder Lühen...!!"
"The Elemental Maestro himself. What a treat for the eyes today."
Isabel swallowed a bitter inward smile as envoys ogled Lühen with shining eyes.
'Yeah, it's not like this is the first day seeing the clan and Tower folks get this reaction.'
She barely suppressed a surge of self-loathing.
Especially since today was different.
The Eldest Young Lord, who always hogged the spotlight, was absent.
Glance!
Finishing light greetings with Lühen, Isabel's eyes flicked to Ian.
There he was, alone in a corner, quietly sipping his drink.
As expected.
Ian had attended from the start, yet no one paid him mind.
And he simply kept his seat with his companions, as if it were the most natural thing.
'…How low must his self-esteem be.'
Did his reflection in her own image hold her gaze a moment longer?
'…Actually, perfect. The more attention on Elder Lühen, the more the Second Young Lord's ego shrinks by comparison. Once the mood ripens a bit more, I'll probe him.'
As Isabel coldly timed her sympathetic approach...
"Well, if it isn't! Second Young Lord Ian!"
Lühen, mingling casually with nobles, spotted Ian and beamed with delight.
Grab!
Not just a greeting—he strode up and pumped Ian's hand vigorously.
"Hoho, great to meet you! Heard about you from Elder Rocherto—been dying to! Never dreamed it'd be you instead of Eldest Young Lord Alex! What a surprise here!"
Grinning broadly, Lühen extended hearty goodwill.
Yet despite the Tower exec's warmth, Ian neither groveled nor fawned—just greeted calmly.
"Pleasure's mine, Elder Lühen. Elder Rocherto spoke highly of you—the Tower's boldest mage."
"Hohoho! Flatterer! No need for such formality between us. After what you've done for the Tower, I couldn't thank you enough."
"Haha, no need. The Tower Lord already rewarded me beyond measure."
"Ah, right—you snagged that prized item from him? He treasures it so. That guy's got skills!"
Their easy, flowing banter.
The banquet-goers stared, taking ages to process the scene.
Isabel was no exception.
'…What the hell is this?'
Are they all in on a surprise party prank for me?