Zachary lowered his head, gently sipping wine as a glint of calculation flashed in his eyes.
He sighed with feigned helplessness: "Perhaps. After all, this Tudor seems not to understand respecting others. If it were , I’d definitely co personally in advance to pay respects to your lordship."
Earl Foss frowned deeply, anger beginning to surface on his face.
The banquet’s clamor seed drawn to these words, the atmosphere growing sowhat heavy.
Earl Foss was silent montarily, then slapped the table: "This Tudor needs a lesson. Make him know the Northern Province isn’t a lawless place."
"In the coming operation, I’ll send him to the most dangerous places, charging at the front!" Earl Foss thought, a cold glint flashing in his eyes.
Plan successful.
Zachary allowed himself the smallest of satisfied smiles, though he was careful to keep it subtle enough to pass for re sympathy with his lord’s righteous anger. Deep within his chest, his heart swelled with a twisted, intoxicating pleasure that coursed through his veins like the finest wine. This delicious sensation of manipulation bearing fruit, of watching his carefully laid words reshape reality according to his will, filled him with an almost euphoric sense of power and control.
Earl Foss’ decision was exactly the result of his careful scheming.
Ever since Vaerik had embarrassed him at the banquet, Zachary’s heart had accumulated anger.
Especially Vaerik’s disdainful look, which severely wounded his self-esteem.
"Who do you think you are?" Zachary sneered inwardly. "Just a family outcast, yet dare show disdain toward ?"
Using Earl Foss’ ignorance, he could easily place Vaerik in the most dangerous position.
And Vaerik’s arrogance would make him pay the highest price.
Of course, Zachary knew when to stop.
As long as prejudice was planted in Foss’ heart, the rest could fernt with ti.
So he quickly changed topics, discussing amusing hunting stories from the south.
Nobles gradually relaxed as the atmosphere ward again.
The banquet returned to proper liveliness, everything seemingly heading toward an "unforgettable evening" conclusion.
However, just as the banquet neared its end, a servant hurried into the hall, whispering reports to the main seat.
"My lord earl, Baron Tudor and Baron Harvey have arrived outside."
Hearing this na, Earl Foss imdiately frowned.
"Baron Tudor?" he repeated with displeasure.
Zachary standing beside him curved his lips in an almost imperceptible smile.
He hadn’t expected this unlucky Vaerik to deliver himself now—truly heaven’s assistance.
He pitched his voice just right for the earl to hear: "That’s Vaerik Tudor, a Tudor family mber."
Earl Foss snorted coldly, his eyes showing obvious displeasure.
"Let him in," his tone ice-cold. "I want to ask what performance he’s planning, appearing when the banquet’s nearly over."
Soon the hall doors slowly opened as everyone’s gazes turned toward the entrance.
Vaerik and John made their grand entrance.
Behind them followed two unarmored knights, each carrying a huge sack on their shoulders, emanating a slightly fishy stench.
Completely out of place at the luxurious, elegant banquet.
Nobles stared at this unusual scene with confusion or surprise, their previous laughter and conversation instantly vanishing.
Earl Foss sat in the place of honor, his expression gradually darkening at this sight.
Especially seeing those two sacks ignited his fury further.
He stood up abruptly, face showing contemptuous smile as he scolded: "Vaerik Tudor, you truly disappoint .
Being late to such a banquet with such disdainful attitude—don’t you understand basic noble etiquette?
What do you take the earl’s manor for?!"
His gaze swept over the sacks behind Vaerik, expression growing more displeased: "Look at these sacks—what are you planning? This is a noble banquet, not a street gathering!"
The banquet hall atmosphere imdiately turned silent as nobles began whispering.
So southern pioneering nobles started showing gleeful smiles, as if they’d been waiting to see Vaerik’s humiliation.
Zachary stood aside, continuing to whisper provocations: "Earl Foss speaks truly—noble banquets represent noble dignity, everyone must follow rules.
Do you think Earl Foss isn’t worthy of such a noble personage as yourself? Deliberately insulting his lordship?"
These words prompted even louder laughter from surrounding nobles.
"Truly soone who doesn’t understand rules, thinking himself so great figure."
"Looking at this scene, hardly like a noble banquet. How can Earl Foss tolerate such an uncouth person mixing here?"
"A Tudor family mber acting so graceless and ill-bred, not understanding basic respect, daring to casually disturb Earl Foss’ banquet."
Their voices were full of contempt, apparently convinced Vaerik was arrogant and rude.
Zachary watched this gleefully, knowing his words had trapped Vaerik in an awkward situation.
Earl Foss grew angrier hearing these comnts.
He looked coldly at Vaerik, seemingly decided to no longer grant him any noble courtesy.
He would severely punish him, teaching him who ruled Snow Peak Prefecture.
Surrounding nobles’ laughter beca more unbridled as tension seed to intensify.
However, Vaerik remained calm, as if unaffected.
He bowed slightly in noble etiquette, then spoke politely: "Lord Earl, I indeed had urgent business that delayed . As for the sacks, they contain gifts I specially prepared for you."
He gestured for the knights behind to slowly set down the sacks.
Zachary sneered: "Oh? Gifts? Sowhat surprising.
But as Duke Tudor’s son, shouldn’t you bring more refined gifts? Are these so wild chickens and rabbits from your territory?
Why not let us see directly what precious items inside are worth displaying here."
Every word carried mockery, clearly wanting to trap Vaerik deeper.
Earl Foss, hearing Zachary’s words and already harboring great prejudice against Vaerik, showed contempt in his eyes.
"Since they’re gifts, let’s see. After all, we Northern Province nobles aren’t deliberately making things difficult."
Earl Foss commanded quietly: "Open them and see what’s actually inside."
Vaerik gestured for knights to open the sacks.
The mont sacks were revealed, dozens of Snow Swearers’ heads rolled out, blood dripping to the floor.
The banquet hall imdiately fell into deathly silence—all nobles were stunned.
Earl Foss stared blankly at the heads on the ground.
His fat face contorted with fear and anger, fat at his eye corners trembling slightly.
He seed to want to shout sothing but was caught off-guard by the sudden shock.
"What... what is this?!" he finally squeezed out words with difficulty, voice full of panic.
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