Halken's eyes glead as he reread the docunt.
'Wait… isn't this an opportunity?'
It was a chance to resolve the tax issue and fully restore relations with Sylas. Halken's instincts, honed over years as a rcenary, scread at him to act.
After a mont of thought, he stood up and shouted, "We'll host a banquet! Send invitations to every comrade who participated in the civil war!"
While the southern lords' refusal to attend Halken's banquet stemd partly from their desire not to appear weak, the primary reason was their jealousy of him.
"He was a fallen noble who didn't even show up until the coalition was already in motion."
"Being a rcenary is one thing, but wasn't he originally a wandering sellsword hired by the enemy?"
"And now he has the largest estate and the highest title? This has to be so kind of mistake."
They couldn't deny that, apart from Sylas and his party, Halken had contributed the most to the coalition. However, they still saw him as an enemy-turned-ally who only joined after Sylas demonstrated overwhelming power.
To them, Halken's vast estate and high title felt undeserved for soone who had only sided with them when the odds were already clear.
"Now he wants to act as Sylas's second-in-command? Not a chance."
"No one in the south will co just because he calls. He'd have to beg us!"
Their refusal was both a show of dominance and a way of reinforcing the social hierarchy. But Halken, as if he had anticipated their reaction, sent out a second round of invitations.
"The purpose of this banquet was to seek your advice on a gift for Count Sylas and request assistance with any shortcomings. It's truly unfortunate that so many of you can't attend. If you find ti later, I'd be glad to host you."
The second invitation left the lords stunned. If Halken's claim was true, this was not a banquet they could afford to skip.
Throwing a banquet to honor Sylas with a gift but refusing to attend? If Sylas learned of their absence, he would undoubtedly see them as disrespectful and ungrateful.
"That scheming rcenary bastard!"
"Fine, I'll go! Is that what you wanted?!"
Grudgingly, the lords sent their replies, agreeing to attend. They saw through Halken's ploy, but there was no way around it.
Thus, the lords who had once participated in the southern civil war began gathering in Halken's territory of Kalsaham.
"This is a banquet?!"
The lords who reluctantly made their way to Kalsaham were t with a scene that elicited groans of disappointnt and frustration.
Halken's so-called banquet barely t the most basic standards of such an event and fell woefully short of expectations.
"The only decent thing here is the food! Where are the musicians? The entertainers?"
"The banquet hall isn't even decorated! Couldn't they at least hang a few ornants?"
"This is supposed to be a noble's banquet? It feels more like a drinking party in a hunting lodge!"
Their complaints weren't nitpicking; the preparations were genuinely lackluster. For a casual celebration at a war camp or hunting lodge, this might have been adequate. But inviting guests from distant lands demanded proper arrangents, and this showed a lack of effort more than anything.
"Welco, esteed guests! I'm deeply grateful for your presence. Are you all enjoying the banquet?"
Halken erged, raising his voice in an attempt to appear jovial. However, his awkward deanor betrayed his inexperience, as if he were struggling to recall long-forgotten etiquette.
The lords stared at him in silence. In any other setting, they might have exchanged polite pleasantries, but this banquet was so underwhelming that even empty words felt wasted.
"Haha, it seems so of you are upset. I apologize for not preparing a proper banquet," Halken said, smiling sheepishly.
"Hmph. At least you're aware of it," one of the lords muttered.
"Of course I am. But I couldn't help it—I've been terribly busy preparing to hand over my territory."
"What? Preparing to do what?"
One of the lords, ready to chastise him further, froze mid-sentence, his expression turning blank.
"What's the matter?" Halken asked, shrugging nonchalantly.
"You said… you're preparing to hand over your territory. What does that an? It sounds absurd."
"It's not absurd at all. I an exactly what I said."
Halken raised his glass high and addressed the lords with a booming voice.
"I intend to return all the land I've been granted to Count Sylas! This banquet marks the final event in my territory, so please enjoy it to the fullest!"
The lords were dumbfounded.
He was returning the territory he had fought so hard to obtain? Was this a joke? Or madness?
Is he insane?
The nobles collectively wondered the sa thing as they stared at Halken. To a noble, a fief was not rely a piece of land for collecting taxes. It was a foundation for governance and a stepping stone for a family's prosperity. And yet, Halken was announcing that he would return his hard-earned territory to Sylas?
It was tantamount to a king declaring he would sell off his kingdom.
"What on earth are you talking about? Returning your fief?" one noble asked incredulously.
"Exactly as I said. After my first experience managing a territory, I found it beyond my ability," Halken replied with a shrug, eyeing the dumbfounded nobles.
"Managing the territory itself wasn't so bad. But those outrageous taxes? A third of the yield? That's completely unreasonable!"
At Halken's outburst, the other nobles exchanged uneasy glances. In truth, they felt the sa way. However, they rationalized it as a necessary burden for the privilege of owning their own lands—a long-cherished dream of any noble.
"Well, even so, giving up a fief just because of high taxes seems… extre," another noble ventured hesitantly.
"Believe , I agonized over this. Once you give up a fief, there's no guarantee you'll ever get the chance to be a lord again," Halken admitted.
The nobles nodded solemnly. This was their shared fear, after all. Seeing their reactions, Halken grinned.
"But then I realized I didn't need to worry at all! If I wait just a little, I'll be a lord again soon enough. Why struggle unnecessarily?"
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