Chapter 39: Chapter 17, "Lumberjack" Villarld_2
Aurora Trovik, Teresa’s mother, dominated the Continent fifty or sixty years ago, traversing the lands fearlessly. When Laine saw her a few days ago, she still appeared as a beautiful woman in her thirties, which explains a lot.
After discussing business, Villarld seed to want to chat more with Laine: "Laine, you’re about twenty-four or twenty-five years old now, right? Haven’t thought about getting married? Want
to introduce a lady from a lord’s family? Don’t worry, she’s definitely beautiful."
Hearing this topic, Teresa beca interested as well. She adjusted her black-frad glasses with purple butterfly patterns, intending to listen to Laine’s response.
"I still have a long ti ahead. I’m not interested in these matters right now. I think it’s better to let things take their natural course," Laine said without agreeing.
"That’s true. Your advancent speed is too fast, Laine, and rashly marrying now might just hinder you," Villarld laughed heartily, then gave the beautiful female sorcerer a aningful glance and didn’t say more.
"Why don’t you two continue exploring the city? I’ve already arranged a banquet. Please join
here for the banquet tonight," after chatting for a while, Villarld ntioned that he still had work to attend to and invited the two to the evening banquet.
The two left the lord’s longhouse, and Laine noticed Teresa seed to want to say sothing but hesitated: "Want to say sothing?"
"Perhaps these local lords aren’t as bad as I thought," Teresa chuckled lightly, exuding mature charm: "In my impression, those local nobles are always indulging in luxury, getting up from a woman’s belly only by noon each day and forever hiding behind high walls. Besides holding banquets and collecting taxes, they know nothing else, entrusting all assets to their steward, who very cleverly takes a few years to turn the nobles’ money into their own. Whenever a battle looms, these nobles are the first to flee, yet when benefits arise, they are the first to appear."
"Only those residing in the capital, holding important positions, have any real capability."
"But after eting Mr. Villarld today, I realized it isn’t like that. Despite his age, he is still an excellent warrior, isn’t he?" Teresa walked beside Laine, the black suede high-heeled boots making a clicking sound on the road.
"You’re right, but not entirely, Teresa. Your perception may still be stuck before the establishnt of the Old Empire," Laine said, lifting his Warhamr as he suggested exploring around: "The laws of the New Empire stipulate that when higher-ups need to go to war, all nobles must respond proportionally according to the scale of their territories. Those who don’t respond face severe punishnt."
"Moreover, under the new laws, if a lord can’t defend against attacks from those evil forces before reinforcents arrive, it also ans he has lost ownership of his territory, which would then fall to the parliant to decide upon further."
"Previously, the bestownt largely depended on bloodline. A pampered wastrel with a noble lineage could inherit a fine fief, but ever since His Majesty Ludwig’s reforms, bestownts are now based on military rit. Only those who achieve military success qualify for fiefdom, which is why most lords now have battlefield experience. Those who’ve been to war aren’t exactly useless."
The two strolled down the street. The weather was nice today, and the townsfolk ca out for activities. Several kids were having a snowball fight, and adults seized the clear weather to work and do laundry. Many rcenary-looking individuals moved together down the street, and Laine noticed a black armband with a black dagger drawn on it.
"That seems to be the mark of the Gray Blade rcenary Corps. These people have co too, have they? Seems there are indeed many caravans stranded here," Laine comnted to Teresa, "The leader of the Gray Blade rcenary Corps, Billger, is an Elite Tier Wanderer advancing to a Dagger Master, known for wielding a gray dagger. It’s said he once successfully assassinated a High Elf; we’re not sure if that’s true or not."
Teresa furrowed her brows but remained silent. From a caster’s perspective, she naturally disliked these sneaky wanderers, as many powerhouses perish not from frontal confrontation but from a simple backstab.
A group gathered, seemingly up to sothing, piquing Laine’s interest: "Shall we go have a look?"
"Not interested." The female sorcerer wasn’t fond of crowds, especially squeezing among a bunch of sweaty n.
"Alright then." Seeing Teresa’s disinterest, Laine led her to avoid the group. It appeared the rcenaries were having a dispute with the rchants’ guards over paynt – such incidents were common. As the crowd blocked the road, Laine simply took Teresa’s hand and squeezed through, crossing two street corners to find a small shop to sit. It was a small restaurant offering so food; Laine ordered grilled pork chops, two bowls of rice porridge, and a pot of stew, which cost about a dozen copper coins for a simple lunch.
Picking up her bowl, the female sorcerer looked at the unidentifiable stew clumped together hesitantly and then set it down: "Why have lunch here? Wouldn’t it be better to eat back at the Butter Beer Inn?"
"We’re not on vacation, Teresa," Laine said in a serious tone, "Belte’s matter hasn’t been resolved. We can’t be sure if he really has set sail for Marinburg. What if it’s a ruse, and Belte simply laid low sowhere, waiting for us to rashly venture forth? Mind you, the Nord Kingdom doesn’t have many Legendary Powerhouses; without you and , not considering the Celestial Vault Castle, there are only about twenty or thirty in Nord, many of whom can’t or won’t move, especially amidst the mass gathering of Northern Barbarians."
Discussing the Fallen Hunter brought seriousness to Teresa’s deanor: "You an Belte may not have left Nord?"
"As of now, it’s uncertain. Perhaps he left, perhaps not. Yet, that’s no reason for us to relax. If we confirm he’s gone and we’re unable to depart by sea soon, I’d gladly prepare a grand al for you, do you understand my point?"
"Oh ho? So you’re ordering
around? I don’t need you to explain what should be done, dear Laine. I know to prioritize what’s important." The female sorcerer lifted her head, eyes filled with defiance: "Or are you under the impression you’re my superior?"
"Care for a little competition? I’m ready whenever you are." Laine chuckled, watching her defiantly.
"Tsk, let’s just... Ugh! Let go of !" Before she could finish, Laine, with knightly strength, pinned her wrists to the table, resisting all her attempts to break free from his iron-like grip. After struggling for five minutes until her face turned red, the female sorcerer murmured: "Can’t you be a bit gentler with a lady? You call yourself a gentleman."
"Of course I’m a gentleman. Please, my fair lady, let’s head to the harbor after lunch." Only then did Laine release her.
Sotis, teasing this mature woman was rather amusing, Laine thought with a touch of mischief.
Luncheon was rely a small episode. At its close, an unexpected guest appeared before them.
This uninvited guest had strikingly handso features, smooth long hair, and slightly pointed ears. To humans, he resembled an Elf; however, Laine had t real Elves and knew to their eyes, he’d look human.
It was a Half-Elf.
The sa Half-Elf they had encountered at the city gate earlier.
"You are ’Great Hamr’ Laine? Greetings, let
introduce myself. My na is Estelle from Saint Lorenzo Forest. Do you recall five years ago when you participated in the siege against the Beastman Warband by the Ovrel River?" The Half-Elf noted Laine’s hand on his warhamr and quickly assured them of his peaceful intentions, though his tone bore a hint of arrogance.
Laine’s eyes twinkled as he recalled the battle: "Yes, indeed. I rember. A group of Half-Elf Rangers joined the Nord forces and contributed significantly. May I ask what’s the matter at hand?"
"Could we speak in private?"
"Let’s discuss here."
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