Translator: CinderTL
"King Monen?"
As Roland observed the bustling crowd lining the main thoroughfare, he caught the keyword in the residents' excited chatter, a flicker of confusion rising in his mind.
"Wasn't this king supposed to be touring the Blackwater Territory? Why would he be here in Far Ocean Port? This place doesn't even belong to the Golden Valley Kingdom."
Just as he was pondering this, a procession slowly emerged from the city gates and began advancing down the main road.
Seeing this, Roland set aside his questions for the moment and looked up with curiosity. Ever since hearing from Bronson about the king's peak transcendent power, Roland had been deeply intrigued by this mysterious monarch.
As the procession drew closer, Roland's gaze naturally fell upon the elderly man leading the way.
The residents lining the streets erupted in cheers, their enthusiasm reaching a fever pitch. Many stood on tiptoe, waving their arms and shouting at the top of their lungs.
"His Majesty Monen!"
"Long live the King!"
Without a doubt, this seemingly ordinary old man was the ruler of the Golden Valley Kingdom, King Monen.
Roland narrowed his eyes, carefully studying the legendary monarch.
But the king's appearance was quite different from what he had imagined.
There were no elaborate processions, no imposing guards, not even the crown that symbolized royal authority.
Moreover, his attire was remarkably simple: merely a coarse, gray-brown linen robe casually belted at the waist with an old leather strap.
His silver hair was full, and though his posture was slightly stooped, his steps were steady, his spirit vigorous. A warm smile played on his face, making him seem like an ordinary old man.
If not for the respectful and fervent greetings of the surrounding residents, no one would have guessed he was a king.
"Your Majesty Monen! Please try some of our freshly baked bread!"
A woman pushed forward, offering a steaming slice of rye bread.
"Haha, then I won't stand on ceremony!"
King Monen laughed heartily, without hesitation taking the bread and taking a large bite. He chewed thoughtfully, nodding in approval.
"Mmm! Delicious! Much chewier than the white bread in the palace!"
Seeing this, the surrounding residents eagerly offered their own prepared fruits, smoked meats, and even children on tiptoes presented him with a string of wild berries.
King Monen accepted everything with good cheer, occasionally ruffling the children's hair, eliciting a wave of good-natured laughter from the crowd.
There was no aloofness, no pretense of authority.
He walked through the crowd as if he were just an elderly neighbor out for a stroll, not the sovereign of a nation on a royal progress.
Beside King Monen, a plump middle-aged man followed respectfully.
He wore an elegant dark purple silk robe, a silver belt inlaid with jade around his waist, and several gem-studded rings on his fingers that sparkled in the sunlight.
His round face was perpetually creased in an obsequious smile as he occasionally bowed to the king and pointed with his ring-adorned hand at important buildings along the street.
His movements were surprisingly agile. Sometimes he would stride ahead to lead the way, other times he would retreat half a step, maintaining a perfectly respectful distance.
Though he occasionally wiped the sweat from his smooth forehead, his smile never faltered.
The guards maintaining order treated him with a mixture of respect and fear. Whenever his gaze swept over them, they would immediately straighten their backs.
As the gaze slowly moved backward, half a step behind King Monen, a hulking, silent man came into view.
He was entirely encased in finely crafted plate armor, the cold metal gleaming ominously in the sunlight.
The man's eyes were half-closed, his expression grim. His gaze, sharp as a blade, swept across the surroundings as if no movement, no rustle of leaves, could escape his notice.
Roland's gaze lingered on the guard for a moment, a chill running through him.
This man is strong.
Though he hadn't gotten close, the restrained pressure emanating from the guard instinctively made Roland tense.
As King Monen gradually moved away, a slow-moving procession appeared at the end of the street.
The colorful banners fluttering in the wind immediately caught Roland's attention.
A blue flag with a golden-thread-embroidered lion, a red-and-black emblem of an ancient oak tree, a silver-white banner bearing a soaring falcon...
"These must be the nobles coming to pay their respects to King Monen," Roland mused, observing the procession.
The order in which the family banners were arranged clearly indicated their rank.
The leading families' processions were grand and imposing. Their soldiers' armor gleamed, and their attendants were impeccably dressed—undoubtedly old, established nobles with deep roots.
The nobles in the middle of the procession were more subdued. They maintained proper decorum, occasionally adjusting their attire, as if placing great importance on this meeting.
When Roland's gaze reached the end of the procession, he suddenly froze.
A slightly worn, deep-green banner bore the unmistakable double-sword emblem of the Collins Family.
And beneath the banner, he saw a familiar figure.
"Darco?"
The young noble looked utterly haggard.
His once meticulously groomed golden hair now hung disheveled across his forehead, and the slight bluish-black circles under his eyes betrayed a long period of sleeplessness.
Though he still maintained a noble bearing, the spirited confidence that had once radiated from him was gone, replaced by deep weariness and despondency.
He was accompanied by only a dozen or so retainers, the smallest retinue among the noble party.
"What's he doing here? Wasn't Baron Forslin supposed to be coming?"
Roland frowned slowly, lost in thought for a moment before pushing open the door.
The Sea Pearl Pavilion in the port district.
This three-story white building stood by the sea, its spacious terrace furnished with carefully woven rattan chairs. Sheer curtains fluttered gently in the sea breeze.
"Your Majesty, this is the finest vantage point in Far Ocean Port," the plump middle-aged man said, wiping sweat from his brow as he respectfully guided King Monen forward. "From here, you can overlook the entire port in all its glory."
"Old Colin, you merchants certainly know how to enjoy life!" King Monen chuckled, slapping the railing and squinting his eyes to savor the sea breeze. His face was wreathed in contentment.
"This place is far more comfortable than my palace balcony!"
The obese middle-aged man known as Colin immediately broke into a wide smile.
"Your Majesty is joking. It's our greatest honor to have you grace this humble establishment."
With a practiced snap of his fingers, waiters promptly served chilled wine and a platter of fresh seafood.
"Nonsense!"
King Monen grabbed a shrimp with his hand and popped it into his mouth. While savoring the sweet, succulent flesh, he mumbled, "The River Domain Nations have made enough money in recent years to buy half of the Golden Valley Kingdom."
He winked meaningfully.
"Especially you, 'Silver Scale' Colin. I hear you added three new merchant ships just last year?"
Colin's fleshy face quivered. He quickly bowed slightly and replied, "All thanks to Your Majesty's patronage."
"Relax," King Monen said with a hearty laugh, waving his hand dismissively. He then roughly pulled the cork from the wine bottle and tilted his head back for a long swig.
"I'm here to enjoy seafood today, not to shake you down. By the way..."
Wiping the wine from his chin, the unrestrained king grinned. "What's that rat pack been up to lately?"
Relieved by the change of topic, Colin smiled and replied, "Thanks to Your Majesty's cooperation, they're gathering at the Deep Sea Port. However..."
"Thanks to Your Majesty's cooperation, they're gathering at Far Ocean Port. However..."
He glanced at the burly guard behind the king, his face appropriately etched with concern.
"With only one guard, won't it be..."
"What?" King Monen raised an eyebrow in question. "Do you think the guards at Far Ocean Port can't protect me?"
"Your Majesty, that's not what I meant."
Seeing Colin's eagerness to explain, King Monen sighed in resignation and patted his shoulder lightly.
"Colin, you're too dull. If old Derek were here, he wouldn't be so obsequious."
Seeing Colin about to speak again, the king cut him off directly.
"Besides, if I brought too many guards, those rats wouldn't dare show themselves, would they?"
"You're right, Your Majesty."
Seeing Colin's continued cautious demeanor, Monen's interest waned. He slumped lazily into a wicker chair, yawning casually.
"Tell me, Colin, what's your plan?"
At the question, Colin leaned forward eagerly.
"In a few days, Far Ocean Port will hold its annual Sea God Festival. All you need to do is..."
"Let me be the bait, is that it?" Monen whistled loudly, a playful smile curling his lips.
"Perfect."
(End of the Chapter)
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