NOVPUBThe man, reveling in the attention, spoke in a calm, assured voice.
“I am Glen from the Crimson Tower. I intend to buy all the food you can supply.”
Upon hearing his identity, the crowd’s surprise only deepened.
The Crimson Tower was known as the premier magical institution in the North.
Moreover, Glen himself was no small name; a prominent figure in the tower, he was a 5th-circle mage responsible for external affairs.
Glen cast a smug glance around, clearly pleased with his command of the situation.
The other attendees could only swallow dryly, unsure of how to proceed.
"One gold per sack of wheat? The Crimson Tower really must be rolling in money.”
“Those lunatics! If they’re buying at that price, how are we supposed to compete? Are they just showing off?”
For the impoverished northern territories, matching that bid was impossible. Most lords were buying only enough to survive until the next harvest, and paying Glen’s price would bankrupt them before they even got close.
But the tower had fewer mouths to feed and more than enough gold to spend.
With full authority from the tower, Glen confidently continued, “I also heard you have runestones. We’ll buy all of those as well.”
At the mention of runestones, a spark of greed ignited in the other attendees’ eyes.
“So it’s true this young lord has runestones?”
“We should’ve seized those ages ago.”
“Ugh, such a precious treasure, wasted on him...”
The lords were well aware of the runestones. Many had considered ways to wrest them from Fenris, though all had hesitated once Marquis Branford became Ghislain’s patron.
Smirking, Glen waited expectantly for Ghislain’s response.
'Right now, food is everything,' he thought. 'Eventually, it’ll become priceless. And while I’m at it, I can check how many runestones are left. I can always take back the money later.'
Though not openly acknowledged, the Crimson Tower was a covert ally of the Duke of Delphine.
Knowing that Count Desmond would eventually confront Ghislain, they had no qualms about spending lavishly.
Beyond the Duke’s support, Ghislain was a direct irritant to the Crimson Tower.
'The Scarlet Tower is still standing. He’s definitely supplying them with runestones.'
The Crimson Tower had invested heavily in attempting to choke out the Scarlet Tower, trying to eliminate its rival. Yet it somehow remained operational, likely due to a steady supply of runestones—an infuriating thorn in their side.
Ghislain took in the murmurs around him, chuckling softly to himself.
'What a bunch of clowns.'
It was certain that the Duke would replenish any resources the Crimson Tower lacked, yet here they were, shamelessly demanding food and runestones.
Ghislain scrutinized the crowd, his gaze narrowing.
'Quite a turnout.'
Among the crowd were many of the Duke’s covert operatives.
Some lords had already allied with the Duke; in some cases, the retainers acted on behalf of their lords without their knowledge, while others watched from the sidelines, waiting to see how things unfolded.
Finally, Ghislain called out each territory he knew was tied to the Duke’s faction, including the Crimson Tower.
“I won’t sell food to these territories. Please leave.”
Both Glen and the other representatives he named wore expressions of shock.
No negotiations, no consideration of their offers, and yet he was flatly refusing them despite their willingness to pay several times over.
“What is the meaning of this! Why single us out?”
“Please explain your reasons!”
Despite their protests echoing through the hall, Ghislain only shook his head.
“Leave. Don’t ask why. It’s my decision. Escort them out.”
At Ghislain’s signal, the knights surged forward, escorting the named representatives out.
Their responses varied, with some attempting threats and others pleading for compassion.
“We’ll never forget this! You’ll regret this slight!”
“So you’re relying on Marquis Branford? Let’s see how long that lasts!”
“Please, I beg you. Our people are starving!”
“Show mercy for the poor souls in our lands!”
Ghislain couldn’t suppress a smirk at their pitiful attempts to tug at his heartstrings.
The northern lords were notorious for their cruelty. Any food sold to them would likely never reach their people’s hands. The lords would hoard it for their armies, fearing starvation-fueled revolts from their oppressed subjects.
These lords viewed their people as little more than serfs.
Unlike these territories, Feridium’s people had survived poverty because Zybalt never exploited them.
Ghislain knew this, so their appeals fell on deaf ears.
While most emissaries were dragged out, Glen swatted away the knights’ hands and stood his ground, his voice dripping with anger.
“Do you realize you’re disrespecting the Crimson Tower? Do you know who I am?”
A fierce aura began radiating from Glen’s entire body.
As a senior mage of the premier magical tower in the North, he was used to respect from nobility, who deferred to him without question. That a mere baron would treat him with such insolence was intolerable.
But Ghislain’s response only stoked the fire.
“Who are you, exactly?”
“What? You mean to say you don’t know me?”
Even if Ghislain had never seen him in person, no one in the North wouldn’t know Glen, the Crimson Tower’s envoy.
To Glen, Ghislain’s attitude was an insult to both him and the Crimson Tower.
Glen’s voice trembled with indignation.
“Baron! Look me in the eye and say that again. You truly don’t know who I am?”
Ghislain tilted his head with feigned ignorance before turning to Claude.
“Claude, do you know who he is? Is he someone famous?”
‘Oh, come on, why ask me that?’
Claude’s expression grew uneasy.
Of course, he knew who Glen was. Recognizing prominent figures was a basic skill for a ruler.
Ghislain knew exactly who Glen was; this was an intentional jab.
‘What on earth is he trying to do?’
Claude sighed, opting to play along.
“Well... I don’t know. Could he be a scroll vendor? I think I’ve seen him around the market. Seems to be quite full of himself. I could never say such things—I’m feeling secondhand embarrassment just hearing it.”
Ghislain couldn’t hold back his laughter. Though he’d given a hint for a response, Claude’s reaction exceeded his expectations. When it came to sarcasm, Claude was unmatched.
*Snap.*
Glen’s final thread of composure snapped. He was a senior of the Crimson Tower and had never suffered such humiliation.
“You wretches! Do you even know who I am?”
Boom!
A surge of magical energy emanated from Glen, filling the hall.
Blinded by rage, Glen chose to wield force to assert his authority.
Did this petty barony really think they could stand against him?
“Ugh!”
The other emissaries scrambled back, alarmed by his aura.
Boom!
Glen stepped forward, his face contorted with fury.
In that instant—
*Shing!*
Belinda, Gillian, and Kaor materialized, pressing their swords to Glen’s throat.
At the same time, the knights blocked the hall's doors and drew their blades, surrounding everyone.
Claude wasted no time hiding behind Wendy.
“Hah!”
The boiling rage in Glen’s chest froze in an instant.
He had been so focused on his anger that he hadn’t even sensed the three approaching. Had this been a battlefield, he would’ve lost his head on the spot.
'Since when did Fenris have warriors of this caliber?'
He’d heard Fenris was a weak territory with barely any knights, so when did they acquire such skilled fighters?
The three warriors looked to Ghislain and spoke.
“Young master, shall we kill him?”
“Just give the word, my lord.”
“Did everyone see that? I was fastest, right? I’m amazing, aren’t I?”
All Glen could do was bite his lip as his body froze in place.
The murderous intent was palpable. A single movement, even the flick of a finger, would cost him his life.
“You... you insane wretches...”
Never in his life had Glen been treated this way.
As his body trembled with rage, Ghislain’s mocking laugh echoed through the hall.
“Still want to keep going? I’m more than willing. Plenty of witnesses here too.”
Glen jolted back to his senses.
The mockery was unprecedented, pushing him to lose control. If he had actually struck out, the consequences would’ve been grave.
It wasn’t time yet. The Crimson Tower was a hidden blade for the Duke’s forces, meant to strike when the pro-royalist faction least expected.
A reckless move now would jeopardize everything, including his life.
“Phew...”
After a deep breath, Glen leveled an icy glare at Ghislain.
“The Crimson Tower will not overlook this slight. Mark my words, Baron.”
“I’ll be waiting.”
“I will make you regret this.”
With that, Glen turned and strode out.
He knew that Count Desmond planned to attack Fenris. When that time came, Glen vowed he would personally assist in killing Ghislain.
Mages never forgot a grudge, and Glen would ensure this young lord understood the terror of magic.
After most of the emissaries were expelled and Glen left, the remaining emissaries hesitated, unsure of what to expect.
'Why did he expel them?'
'Why did he let us stay?'
'Challenging the top mage tower in the North? He
’s got some nerve...'
Unable to understand his criteria, the emissaries were left anxious and uncertain.
Watching them squirm, Ghislain softened his tone.
“The atmosphere was tense earlier. Truly, I have a soft heart. Thinking about the starving people in the North keeps me up at night. I am... a pacifist.”
The emissaries stared at him, baffled.
‘Is he actually insane?’
‘Then why throw those people out?’
‘I’d heard he might be unstable, but this is something else...’
After a brief silence, Ghislain continued.
“So I won’t be taking payment in gold.”
The emissaries were taken aback. Food was now more valuable than gold, almost impossible to buy even with wealth.
Yet here he was, refusing payment?
Tentatively, one emissary asked, “Are you suggesting some sort of resource exchange?”
Fenris was famously resource-poor, so it seemed plausible.
But Ghislain shook his head.
“No, I won’t take resources either.”
Hope lit up their faces. With neither gold nor resources, what else could he want?
'What a considerate young man. He tried to play tough but has a soft spot.'
'Ah, youthful charm. He’s endearing.'
The emissaries, hiding their true motives, began forming their plans.
'Let’s secure the food first. We can ignore any defense fee he asks for afterward.' 𝚗𝚘v𝚙𝚞b.𝚌𝚘m
'This drought will pass, and his manners can be corrected later.'
'The food lucked out with its current stores. Does he think he can maintain this prosperity? Life’s never that easy.'
Unable to hide their smirks, the emissaries awaited Ghislain’s terms.
But then, Ghislain casually added:
“Instead of payment, I’ll take soldiers. Each territory will supply a fitting number of troops.”
At his words, every emissary’s face instantly turned ashen.
