「A few days later, at the Noble Council.」
Beneath the oak dome, the atmosphere was oppressive.
Marquis "Iron Wall" Marcus stared at the agenda on the table, his fingers drumming against the armrest.
'Velin Klein. That name again.'
'It seems that victory with the pioneering rights went to his head. A Pioneer Baron who crawled out of a swamp, and he actually dares to dream of reaching the heavens in a single bound by applying to become a Count? And he's doing it knowing full well it's impossible?'
'Is he insane? What's next, applying to be a Marquis? At this rate, I might as well just give him my "Iron Wall" title!'
A sneer played on Marcus's lips.
Losing the debate on the pioneering rights last time was one thing. No one cared about that godforsaken island anyway.
But this was different.
This touched upon the very foundation of the Duchy's order, the bedrock upon which it was built.
