In the inn's hall, Blackheart Rip and his lieutenant Durant were quietly eating dinner.
Neither of the mercenary leaders were particularly welcome among the company. The Grail Knights looked down on Blackheart Rip and Durant for their origins as mercenaries and bandits. They also disdained Rip's so-called "Duchy of Blitzka," with its less than five thousand residents, and his self-proclaimed title of "Prince of Blitzka." If it weren't for Blackheart Rip's genuine peak legendary strength and the fact that Ryan had officially appointed him as the captain of Bretonnia's independent regiment and granted him the title of Border Baron, the noble knights wouldn't even bother speaking to him.
The Grail Knights were somewhat better. As living saints, they at least maintained a sense of respect and fairness. However, the knights with noble bloodlines who weren't Grail Knights held the most contempt for Blackheart Rip. Even when they deigned to speak to him, Rip could still feel the disdainful air they exhaled through their noses.
At over seventy years old, Blackheart Rip didn't mind it anymore—he was used to it. Durant, however, had a different mindset. In his early thirties, he was just entering his prime and still retained much of the youthful impulsiveness typical of younger men. Durant, a prominent figure in the border wars, was particularly adept at using the long-barreled muskets produced in the Hochland, and he wasn't afraid of close combat. Because of this, he thought highly of himself.
But things hadn't gone as he had imagined. The beautiful young witches of the Garland Coven showed no interest in him at all. Whenever he spoke to them, they looked at him as if they were guarding against a thief, which deeply hurt Durant.
Their dinner was simple: two steaks, vegetable salads, and red wine. Since they weren't well-liked, their conversation was conducted in whispers. Blackheart Rip leaned over and spoke to Durant. "You're a real fool, you know that? By Sigmar, next time, don't drag me into this. I'm fully aware of how unwelcome I am."
"Oh, come on, Litberd! You know this is one of the few chances I'll get to see Scarlett!" Durant pleaded, his face full of desperation. "Help me out! You're the king's favorite!"
"Favorite? Don't say that, Durant. You're mistaken. The only reason I became a Border Baron and captain of the independent regiment is that I'm useful," Blackheart Rip sighed and shook his head. "If you don't understand your own value, you'll be cast aside one day. You need to realize how much you're really worth. Soldiers like you are not rare in the Old World, even if they're not common."
"Soldiers like me… Can I win Scarlett's heart?" Durant gazed longingly in the direction of the inn's hall. "Do you understand how I feel? I love her."
"Do you even know what love is, young man?" Blackheart Rip shrugged, the light from the chandelier above reflecting off his bald head.
"Loving her means I'd drink her bathwater." Durant straightened his tie with determination. Tonight, the border warlord was dressed in a well-fitted gentleman's suit. "I'd drink Scarlett's bathwater! Litberd, check me out. Do I look handsome? Dashing? Will I win her over?"
"Attracting women isn't always about looks, Durant," Rip said with a shake of his head. "Especially not for witches. Looks are way down the list of what matters to them. Oh, and I should remind you—wearing a gentleman's suit is fine, but you might want to remove the tailor's stitching from your cuffs and pocket first."
Before Rip even finished speaking, a table of witch apprentices nearby burst into laughter. It was clear they had been holding back their amusement over Durant's clothing issue for a while.
"Oh, I... uh… you're right, Litberd!" Durant finally realized that his cuffs and pocket still had the tailor's stitching on them. His face turned beet red with embarrassment. "I… I'd better go fix that."
"Go ahead." Blackheart Rip watched with amusement as Durant hurriedly rushed to his room, then shifted his attention to Durant's object of desire, Scarlett. "Alright, let's see what's so special about this girl."
A witch with golden-brown wavy hair, captivating sea-green eyes, and full red lips came into view. She had a voluptuous figure, and Rip silently acknowledged that she was indeed a beauty. It was no wonder Durant was so infatuated.
"Kathryn, that disgusting mercenary leader is staring at us," Scarlett said, her expression turning sour as she noticed Rip's gaze. She looked as if she had just tasted something foul. "It's so unsettling. I don't understand why the teacher would let those two mercenaries stay at the same inn as us. Isn't there another inn in Seagate Pass?"
Kathryn, wearing a gray blouse and a red plaid skirt, twirled some spaghetti on her fork and shook her head. "It's not like that, Scarlett. I heard from the teacher that Blackheart Rip is actually quite useful. He knows the rules of the Border Princes very well. Otherwise, he wouldn't have been able to build up such a large force in just a year. And all the intelligence about the greenskins along Blackwater Bay came from him, including their movements. Just for that alone, he's valuable."
"Wow, Kathryn, you really know a lot!" Scarlett exclaimed as she swept her shiny golden-brown hair back behind her head, her eyes twinkling with curiosity. She hesitated for a moment before asking, "By the way, Kathryn, as the teacher's personal apprentice, you must have plenty of chances to meet the king, right? Can you tell me what he's like?"
A fleeting thought crossed Kathryn's mind at Scarlett's question. She shook her head. "Not really. The teacher rarely gives me the chance to meet King Ryan. Even when I do, she's usually present."
"Really?" Scarlett didn't seem convinced. She thought for a moment and asked again, "But if the teacher didn't trust you, why would she assign you to Lord Calard?"
"I'm not sure. I just follow the teacher's orders." Kathryn answered cautiously. "If this is what the teacher has arranged, then I'll stick with Lord Calard."
"Ugh, Kathryn, you're always like this—so obedient to the teacher," Scarlett sighed, realizing she wouldn't get any more information from Kathryn. "I wish I could be like the teacher and catch the eye of someone powerful, like King Ryan. He's got strength, charm, and wealth. A new spellbook, new materials for experiments, a new staff, a new robe, and of course, living expenses… Oh my god, I calculated it, and I'd need at least 500 gold crowns to cover my basic needs for a year. Where am I supposed to get that kind of money?"
Kathryn remained silent. As Veronica's personal apprentice, she received ample funds for experiments and had access to Veronica's private library. However, Kathryn rarely talked about this with others. Among witches, jealousy and backstabbing were common, as they often viewed themselves as superior to others. She knew how many witches in the coven were hoping to follow in Veronica's footsteps and cozy up to Ryan for an easy shortcut, and how many witches despised her, coveting her position.
But upon reflection, was pursuing Ryan really a shortcut? Kathryn furrowed her brow. She had found an opportunity to interact privately with Ryan when he came to visit Veronica, but it was clear he wasn't interested in her. In fact, she had taken a significant risk at the time, knowing Veronica's temperament.
And Ryan already had Lady Sulia and her teacher, not to mention the dark elf maid by his side, who was clearly a Supreme Sorceress. In this situation… it seemed relying solely on Ryan wasn't a shortcut at all. If anything, it might be a path to a nightmare-level challenge!
"Speaking of which, Kathryn, what's it like working with Lord Calard?" Scarlett probed again while Kathryn was lost in thought. "In every sense of the word?"
"Lord Calard doesn't talk much. Even when he does, it's just to issue orders." Kathryn shook her head, then paused, realizing something important was starting to take shape in her mind.
Perhaps, it was time to change her approach.
——Time for a Change——
Later that evening, in the best room on the third floor of the Sea Dragon's Breath Inn, Veronica and Olica had prepared an extravagant dinner for Ryan.
It was an Indian-style curry feast.
The meal featured curry chicken, curry crab, curry lamb chops, curry potatoes, and curry shrimp, all made with imported Indian curry spices. After years of waiting, Ryan finally got to eat rice again. This delighted the knight king immensely, as it had been a long time since he'd last eaten rice. The fragrant rice paired perfectly with the rich curry, and Ryan ended up eating several servings.
Veronica and Olica also ate plenty.
After the meal, Veronica, her stomach full and satisfied, sat on Ryan's lap. The Garland witch was dressed in a dainty floral dress that highlighted her voluptuous figure and her long, shapely legs wrapped in sheer black stockings. Her feet, encased in burgundy high heels, dangled playfully as she leaned back against Ryan, a golden anklet adorning her delicate ankle—a gift from the Emperor that was part of a set of nine pieces of jewelry blessed by him.
The Emperor had gifted Sulia nine sets of jewelry, each consisting of earrings
, a necklace, a ring, a bracelet, and an anklet, all imbued with powerful protective abilities and body-enhancing effects. Whether they had additional functions was yet to be explored.
After receiving them, Sulia had kept the diamond set for herself, while allowing Ryan's inner circle to choose the remaining sets. The Lady of the Lake had taken the platinum set, Veronica the gold set, Morgiana the emerald set, Teresa the jade set, Emilia the pearl set, and Olica the opal set. Sulia still had the sapphire and crystal sets left in her collection.
Sulia's generosity was notable. Ryan could bet that most women, upon receiving such exquisite jewelry, would think only of how to wear them, not how to share them.
"My love, should I ask the chef here to teach me how to make curry?" Veronica snuggled closer to Ryan, her black-stockinged legs swinging playfully as she used her toes to toy with her high heels. "You seemed to enjoy it."
Ryan chuckled, wrapping his arms around Veronica's waist. "Curry is great to eat once in a while, but if you have it every day, you'd get sick of it. Plus, the curry smell is pretty strong. Didn't you notice? You smell like curry now."
"Hmph! You're the one who smells like curry!" Veronica teased, poking Ryan's forehead with her delicate finger before pinching his cheek. "You should also rein in your knights! Did you know? Kathryn told me several witches have started dating your knights."
"Haha, what's wrong with that?" Ryan laughed. "It's fostering harmony between knights and witches!"
"Harmony? You don't understand how things work among witch apprentices," Veronica huffed, crossing her arms. "Over the years, I've seen countless catfights, jealousy, hair-pulling, tacks on seats, and even attempts to poison each other! I don't mind witches dating knights, but there's a time and place for it! These feuds can affect their combat performance!"
"Like you and Olica?" Ryan teased. "Or you and Morgiana? I'd say your combat performance has actually improved."
"Ryan!!!" Veronica's face flushed, clearly reminded of something embarrassing. She stomped her foot in frustration. "That's not what I meant!"
"Alright, I'll make sure the knights know to be careful," Ryan finally conceded. "I don't mind genuine relationships, but it shouldn't affect the army. I plan to rest here at Seagate Pass for two weeks, and in January, we'll move on to attack Vault Keep."
"January?" Veronica seemed hesitant. "My love, winter isn't the best time for my coven to go into battle. Seagate Pass is freezing in January. Are you sure?"
"It's alright. I have Olica," Ryan shrugged. "I understand the difficulties, my love, but we can't afford delays. You need to understand that the 50,000 gold crowns from the first issue of Karak Eight Peaks war bonds only covers a little over a month's worth of expenses for the army. I'm already preparing the second and third issues."
"I understand, my love," Veronica sighed, standing up and pacing the room, her high heels clicking on the floor. "Alright, we'll support you as much as we can."
"I'll help too, Master," Olica chimed in sweetly from the shadows, where she had been quietly observing. The dark elf was wearing a layered lace dress, her eyes twinkling as she added, "But only if Master keeps replenishing my magic. You'll have to work hard, or I won't have enough power to help you."
"I'll make sure you're well supplied!"
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