Episode 348 – Main Dish (2)
The atmosphere of the banquet hall was no different from the opening night of the Dark Sales.
Laughter and conversation flowed freely, and VIPs gathered naturally around Azonne.
Arthur’s group being left out again wasn’t particularly strange.
Lily was an infamously notorious witch, and Lochter and Karl didn’t exactly give off approachable vibes.
Soft melodies flowed in the background. Lavish food filled the tables.
The buzz of chatter under dazzling lights—On the surface, everything seemed perfectly normal.
“Huh.”
Karl scanned the surroundings and furrowed his brow slightly. He then tapped my side. When I turned to look, Karl was glaring at me.
“Karl, what’s with that look? Did you spot someone who owes you money?”
“Cut the crap. Look around slowly. Doesn’t something feel off?”
Karl seemed to have picked up on subtle oddities within the banquet hall.
“What’s strange?”
“I don’t see any of the moneyed types.”
Among the VIPs, there were no nobles or merchant-looking figures.
At the last invitation-only gathering, there had been plenty of pudgy aristocrats waddling about.
“This feels just like when we were in the Laup Forest.”
“Laup Forest?”
“Dominic’s prison for experimental subjects. That damned place.”
A forest filled with prey, under constant observation.
Karl’s divine attribute was sensation—He was feeling an eerie tension, like a pulled string ready to snap.
“It’s hard to explain exactly, but the gazes around us just feel... messed up. Really messed up.”
Perhaps due to his background as an assassin specialized in survival, Karl instinctively recognized the blade hidden beneath the party’s friendly façade.
“Let’s wrap up negotiations and get out of here.”
“Not so fast. Lord Azonne hasn’t brought up the matter yet, and it doesn’t look like he intends to.”
“Didn’t we come here to negotiate with the Lord?”
“Among other things, yes.”
“What ‘other things’?”
“Let’s just observe for now.”
Like Karl, I approached the Lord to get a feel for the atmosphere.
I rubbed my chest and moved toward the center of the banquet hall under Reto’s direction.
The reason? To assess the energy of the attendees.
“Reto.”
When I muttered his name, Reto’s voice replied.
[There are no regular humans here. Everyone uses mana, and overall, the magical energy is dominant.]
“So more mages than anything else among the VIPs.”
Some speculated the rest were mercenaries. But if Reto said it, it was certain.
“Mages and mercenaries, huh...”
Something smelled fishy. I visualized the VIPs in my mind and lightly patted Lily’s head.
At my signal, she blinked and looked at me.
“You figured it out?”
“Roughly.”
“Then tell me.”
“Mmm, that one. And that one...”
She popped a cookie into her mouth and pointed toward a table surrounded by VIPs.
As a witch, she could read the emotions of others just by looking into their eyes.
Among witches, Lily’s range and accuracy were overwhelmingly superior.
Before I approached Azonne, I had asked her for two things:
One, to hit my side hard if I lowered my wine glass.
Two, to read the emotions of those around us.
I turned my gaze toward those she had pointed at.
Surprisingly, there were quite a few who harbored killing intent toward me—Around three or four, maybe?
Reto quickly provided intel after assessing their energy.
[They all possess significantly greater mana than the others.]
“All mages, then.”
It wasn’t hard to identify them. They wore cloaks that signified they were from the Ivory Tower, and they looked like elder-level figures.
“What about the rest? What are their emotions like?”
“Nothing major. Some tension, some unease. That’s about it.”
Tension and unease filled the hall…
Thanks to Reto and Lily, I now had a rough picture.
‘The mercenaries were probably hired to be here. Since they don’t feel strongly toward me, they must be moved by money.’
The problem was the mages. There were dozens of them, centered around the Ivory Tower faction. From the looks on their faces, many of them held deep hostility toward me.
“Azonne’s really stirred them up well.”
Rumors had spread that the death of Sub-Tower Master Nagrok was linked to the World Tree Union.
The mages seemed certain that I was responsible.
I scanned the banquet hall again. Roughly 100 guests were in attendance. It became clear that Azonne had summoned them for reasons unrelated to Dark Sales.
Azonne only made moves when he was confident in success.
The fact that he had brought these people to the party hall so openly meant he had something planned.
‘He really blindsided me.’
I hadn’t expected things to go down at the Dark Sales closing party.
Meanwhile, Azonne’s speech continued slowly. He looked relaxed.
I asked Lily,
“Did you read Azonne’s emotions?”
“Anticipation. And when he looks at you...”
“When he looks at me?”
“Intense excitement.”
As I silently watched Azonne, Lochter stepped beside me, tapping the hilt of his sword.
“If things get dangerous, signal me. I’ll carve us a path.”
Unlike Lochter, Karl’s expression only grew more tense.
“...Damn it. Best option is pretending to go to the bathroom and just bolting.”
“That would be problematic.”
“You wanna die here? The vibes are getting worse and worse.”
“If we run, it’ll look like we’re admitting we killed Nagrok.”
“How the hell would it look like that?”
“If I were the one framing us, I’d make it that way.”
“...Hey, hey! Where are you going?”
I had to move before Azonne made his move. I approached a mage.
Ignoring Karl’s grumbling—“First time showing my face at a party and this is what I get…”—I walked toward the VIP table.
The moment I moved, the atmosphere of the party shifted.
Azonne’s speech continued, but several VIPs now had their eyes on me.
I stood before an old mage. Other mages glared at me warily as I approached.
I smiled.
“Greetings. I’m Alex, the representative of the Union. You must be Elder Halyans of the Ivory Tower?”
“I’m not someone you should be speaking to.”
“That’s odd. I thought you were acting on behalf of the late Nagrok.”
At that, Halyans’ face stiffened.
“...Don’t speak his name with your mouth. Did you come here to kill me as well?”
“I think you’ve misunderstood. Kill you?”
“Step away. I have no interest in talking with you.”
I chuckled.
“Then does that mean you’d prefer to talk to me after binding me with a ‘Ring of Restraint’?”
"!?"
Caught off guard, Halyans released a sharp burst of mana.
Wine glasses shattered, and the atmosphere in the hall grew heavy in an instant.
The commotion forced Azonne to pause his speech and look toward the disturbance.
It was at the table where Elder Halyans—the de facto leader of the Ivory Tower faction since Nagrok’s death—was seated.
Azonne had gone to great lengths to bring Halyans into this plan, and now I was smiling and chatting with him.
‘What the hell is he doing?’
Azonne ended his speech and stepped forward.
“What seems to be the issue?”
“That rude man dared to speak of the deceased Sub-Tower Master!”
Halyans’ eyes asked a question: Are you going to act now?
But Azonne shook his head.
If he moved now, he wouldn’t be able to capture everyone. Plus, Azolett hadn’t given the signal yet.
Not yet.
Halyans bit his lip and glared at me.
“You said you had something to tell me? Go on, then.”
“I came to clear up a misunderstanding.”
“Misunderstanding? What kind?”
“I support Lord Modin.”
“You lunatic! What nonsense is that!?”
The surrounding mages glared and cursed at me, but I calmly addressed them.
“You’re aware of one of the Dark Sales items—a greatsword repaired by Grand Artisan Dorneth, yes?”
“The greatsword??”
“The Weapon Breaker. A magic sword engraved with formulas—repaired by Dorneth himself.”
There were two items I submitted to Dark Sales under my name:
The exclusive rights to World Tree leaves, and the Weapon Breaker, a ruined greatsword restored by Dorneth.
‘I was planning to sell it at a high price using Dorneth’s reputation, but I didn’t expect it to come in handy like this.’
The moment I saw the Ivory Tower mages, a clever idea had hit me.
I could see exactly how Azonne had manipulated them.
“How did you come to possess that sword?” Azonne asked.
I studied his face. No reaction.
He clearly didn’t know the full story behind the Weapon Breaker.
‘It was restored from a broken blade, so that makes sense.’
Either that, or when Nagrok died, he simply didn’t consider its significance.
“The original owner of that greatsword is me.”
“You’re missing my point. I’m asking why you brought it up.”
“That’s right. Are you claiming ownership of that sword?”
The one who interrupted was Halyans.
I smiled and replied,
“Yes. The late Nagrok spent a large sum to secure negotiation rights for it.”
Halyans scoffed and pulled out a Madas Coin from his robes.
As Nagrok’s successor, he had become the new agent for the transaction and held out the coin.
“There’s no need to negotiate. You can keep your damned sword.”
“Ah, I don’t think you understood me.”
“Get to the point.”
“The original owner of the sword is Harkman Oleve.”
Halyans’ hand froze mid-gesture. He stared at me in disbelief.
“Harkman? Don’t tell me—”
“Yes. The Iron Knight.”
I smiled.
“Duke Clarke’s chief knight.”
“And why is his sword in your possession?”
“Because we killed him.”
I looked around slowly.
It seemed word of Harkman’s death hadn’t reached here yet—likely due to the isolated nature of Tobaron.
Harkman was Duke Clarke’s foremost knight. Killing him meant opposing the Duke’s faction.
From the Ivory Tower’s perspective, which opposed Clarke, this was deeply unsettling.
The mages didn’t know how to react.
And Azonne’s expression had turned rigid.
“The World Tree Union stands in opposition to Duke Clarke. That sword is the proof. By claiming Harkman’s life, we’ve declared it officially.”
“They say the enemy of my enemy is my friend. What do you think, Elder Halyans?”
Azonne cut in.
“Is that really Harkman’s sword?”
“Why don’t you take it and confirm for yourself? Didn’t the Ivory Tower want to purchase it out of interest in its magic inscriptions? You’d be able to verify it easily.”
“I’m stating this as the World Tree Union’s representative—I support Lord Modin’s faction. And further...”
I hardened my expression and declared,
“I did not kill Lord Nagrok. I swear on the World Tree as the Union’s proxy.”
Halyans' face showed confusion.
A part of him was starting to doubt what he had believed. Seeing this, Azonne leaned in and whispered something into Halyans’ ear.
Halyans blinked, then steadied himself.
I gave a dry chuckle.
‘He’s been thoroughly gaslit.’
It seemed Azonne had spent his time in the castle feeding the mages with false narratives.
“What did the Lord just say to you?” I asked.
Azonne smiled and answered with practiced calm.
“Elder Halyans looked shaken, so I merely helped him regain his composure.”
“Oh, is that so? I was curious what you’d say to Halyans, seeing as you’re aligned with Gram.”
“What?”
That reaction came from the mages. Especially Halyans, whose eyes grew even wider.
“L-Lord! What is the meaning of this? Weren’t you aligned with us—”
“Ah, calm down. Elder Halyans, it seems Alex has misspoken.”
Azonne, unfazed, tried to quiet the storm. He stepped up to me and stared into my eyes. His expression was gentle.
The kind of expression a man might wear just before slitting your throat.
“Alex.”
“Yes?”
“I’ve supported no one within Demtor. Can you take responsibility for your claim?”
“Hm? That’s strange.”
I looked up at the second floor and murmured,
“Then who brought the Cleaners staying on the second floor?”