Chapter 477
This year, quite a number of guests gathered at the pastry club booth. It got to the point where even Mar, sitting inside the booth, offered to help.
Of course, I flatly refused the offer while gently telling her to sit back and relax. I mean, putting my pregnant wife to work? If Enen was watching from wherever, I’d be begging for divine punishment, and I certainly couldn’t let that happen myself. Just taking her to a crowded place made me anxious enough; why add to it with labor?
Moreover, just because there are lots of guests doesn’t mean it’s particularly busy. It sounds like a flimsy excuse, but it holds true here. After all, in this booth, the sellers are the ones in charge, not the buyers.
“Congratulations, Your Excellency Count Tailglehen! I heard your wife is expecting!”
“Haha, a delightful wish, no matter how many times I hear it. Thank you!”
Most of the visitors to our booth came to see me, Trixie, or perhaps Rutis, Lather, or Tannian. These guests were keen to impress us, so even if our response was a bit slow, no one would voice their complaints.
Even our manager, Rizie, was aiming for a more laid-back booth operation this year. Coupled with two years of operational experience, the club members didn’t flinch even with many guests around.
“Damn runaway ninja,” I thought, recalling Rutis, who had audaciously left his post.
I exchanged handshakes with the next guest as I thought back to how Rutis had been perfectly fine arranging the booth display, then suddenly vanished like a gust of wind after receiving a call. He had said he’d greet someone and be back—how cheeky!
Although I nearly lost my composure at his upfront escape, I didn’t launch an all-out manhunt. We weren’t desperate for manpower, and while Rutis had his quirks, he wasn’t completely irresponsible. The fact that he rushed off indicated that the person he was meeting was significant.
Most likely, it was Count Nerkaff.
“I guess calling him ‘uncle’ isn’t just for show,” I mused.
It was somewhat surprising. Count Nerkaff, a close aide to the King of Armein, had finding a royal looking for their subordinate visit a common thing without a solid relationship built on trust. I didn’t expect Rutis to show such extraordinary courtesy by leading off to meet him.
But if Rutis was voluntarily staying close to Count Nerkaff, that was actually a relief for me. With royalty nearby, even Count Nerkaff would have to tread lightly. This likely meant I’d have fewer meetings with him.
I secretly wished they would stick together all day.
“You know they say expectations lead to disappointments?”
I was foolish. I forgot that truth while counting on Rutis. No matter how mellow he became since the ’78 season, he was still Rutis.
“Uncle, this is the advisor who has been overseeing the pastry club for us, and he also happens to be the Minister of the Information Department.”
“I see. I’ve heard of your esteemed reputation.”
Two hours after his abrupt exit, Rutis returned to the booth with Count Nerkaff.
“Crap.”
I could very well be reaping the consequences of wishing poorly. I should have wished for Rutis to stay nearby all day but far enough not to be a bother. I never expected Count Nerkaff himself would bring him back here directly.
“Ferdinand Karichen of Nerkaff. It’s an honor to meet the continent’s finest sword, Your Excellency.”
While I held back tears inside, Count Nerkaff reached out for a handshake first.
“What do I do?”
I quickly racked my brain on how to respond to him.
Per protocol, it’s established that a noble of the Empire is considered a tier above that of a kingdom’s noble. Therefore, although I am a Count, I technically stand above Count Nerkaff in rank.
However, such protocols don’t allow for rudeness, especially not when interacting with the Grand Marshal of Armein. Besides, Count Nerkaff wasn’t coming off as hostile; he was being polite, so it wasn’t right to just toss that aside.
“Carl Krasius of Tailglehen.”
That’s why I decided on mutual respect. After all, it felt a bit off to be informal with someone who is twice my age.
“Calling me the continent’s finest sword feels excessive, really.”
And as I shook off his praise, I subtly shook my head at the title he mentioned.
What does it even mean to be the continent’s finest sword? When did I ever earn such a title without realizing it?
“Fame is kind of like that, really. No matter what you think of it, if people call you that, it kind of becomes who you are.”
Count Nerkaff replied calmly, and strangely enough, he sounded persuasive. Perhaps it was because he was an already recognized figure as Armein’s greatest sword. Maybe having that title is something embarrassing to bear but something he endures.
“That’s true. After all, the view of oneself and how others view you are what differ, right? And they typically say the latter holds more weight, so we gotta accept that humbly!”
Rutis capped it off with a tease that made me chuckle.
Honestly, having personally experienced the grandeur of Kagan held me back from acknowledging being called the continent’s finest. But Kagan’s dead, and I’m still kicking. If people want to moan about it, they should’ve just kept Kagan alive. Bottom line, the surviving ones are the strong ones.
“Oh dear, there are other guests! My apologies for keeping you.”
“No worries, no worries.”
Count Nerkaff smilingly observed Rutis yet took a step back to scan the bustling crowd, as if he thought holding me for long would be a bother in front of the other guests.
Even though we’d hardly exchanged a few words, that short interaction gave me a decent sense of his character.
“Good thing he’s not a hulking version of Rutis.”
I felt a sincere relief. Knowing he bore the title of the continent’s finest sword, and the fact Rutis called him uncle led me to expect he would be quite the wild card. I even suspected if Rutis had inherited some bizarre traits from him.
But rather than being a massive Rutis, he was a more sophisticated version of Villar. Someone normal, with capabilities and good morals.
“Why’s such a guy farming out his nephew, though?”
Of course, despite the title of nephew, Count Nerkaff, my subordinate, couldn’t reprimand the prince. If anyone were to be at fault, it’d be the King of Armein.
What a tragic, dire state of affairs.
*
Thanks to the favor of His Highness Rutis and the minister, I was able to enter the booth’s inner sanctum.
Even though I felt it was odd for an outsider like me to intrude so deeply, the presence of the Minister’s wife made it easier to accept. Bringing up ‘guests’ might cause issues with her on hand.
“Huh.”
Seated on a chair, welcoming guests, seeing Rutis in such a role evoked a complex mix of emotions. Who would have thought he’d be stuck doing busywork like this?
Even seeing it with my own eyes, I struggled to believe it. This was a man who only swung swords; now here he was, mingling in pastry arts! No matter how optimistically I looked at the situation, it seemed so contradictory, yet somehow the Imperial Academy made it happen.
“Equal opportunities in education and treatment,” I suddenly remembered the Academy’s motto. Until now, I’d dismissed it as mere words, but witnessing this unfold made me reconsider deeply.
So here we were, the prince of Armein, the royal of the Empire, the next saint of the Holy Kingdom all working side by side, baking pastries. Talk about equality in education and respect.
“Or maybe it’s the minister’s capabilities shining through?”
I shifted my gaze back to the minister as he continued to chat with guests.
The Academy, existing for over hundreds of years, took a fresh turn while the minister served as an advisor for clubs. So was it the Academy’s doing, or was it the Minister’s talent?
“Interesting.”
Without knowing, my hand twitched. If he was showing skill in fields other than swords, it’s only logical to assume his swordsmanship would be phenomenal. I felt a desperate urge to challenge him.
But I desperately suppressed that desire.
“If we fought, that’s its own set of problems.”
After all, I bore the undue honor of being the finest sword of Armein. If I were to lose, it would be equivalent to demonstrating that Armein’s sword had been bested before the Empire.
The moment I bore the title of the finest sword, it was no longer just about my own performance. Remembering that every time my blood boiled helps calm me down, just a little.
…
“I wish I were just a little younger.”
I sincerely felt regret. How many chances in life would there be to spar with a man who could slice the heavens apart?
Feeling melancholy about being summoned to the Empire under the Prince’s orders overshadowed everything else. Had I not seen him, I wouldn’t feel regret at all.
*
I managed to stick Count Nerkaff in the booth, but keeping an outsider within our booth felt odd for both him and us.
As soon as the guests thinned out, I moved to another location with the Count. Anywhere is better than the booth.
“Bit remote, but the facilities are excellent.”
“This is a new club, and they put considerable effort into it. It’s to encourage other students not to hesitate over establishing new clubs.”
“Indeed. The Academy’s consideration is truly warm.”
It was unexpected to see that spot turn out to be the club room.
Anyway, I picked up the teapot from the shelf behind me while observing Count Nerkaff look over the club room with a calm demeanor. Coming under the pretense of wanting to see where Rutis hangs out, he was somewhat akin to a parent visiting a class. A teacher who didn’t serve up a cup of tea to a parent would be totally ruthless.
“It seems it might take some time for the tea leaves to steep.”
“Time isn’t an issue when drinking tea made by the continent’s finest sword.”
My chuckle echoed softly. No matter how large and intimidating he seems, he turned out to be quite composed.
“Imagine if I asked to duel him,” I wondered. It would be simpler if it were someone lower rank; I could get by on slack then. A fight with Armein’s strongest would mean I had to put my everything in. Regardless of win or lose, the aftermath wouldn’t be light.
Considering it, I realized Count Nerkaff was a key figure in the kingdom. Someone like him would never take lightly what he said or did. I’d been overly concerned.
“And knowing that your exchanges with Count Tailglehen will extend, I’m grateful.”
“Haha, is that so? Seems you have many questions for me.”
As Count Nerkaff teased, he flashed a slight smile. With idle chat like this, there’s no stopping—
“From here on, what I’m about to say is the words of His Majesty, the King of Armein, and this is strictly informal communication.”
“…What?”
Suddenly, a bizarre statement struck my ears. The King of Armein’s words? Informal communication?
“What the hell?”
Instinctively, I was nearly tempted to cover my ears. The fear of what Count Nerkaff was about to say made the irritation swell. There’s no way someone would drop such a bombshell with a composed face.
“Soon, the bloodline of Leon will be cut off.”
“…….”
But before I could block my ears, Count Nerkaff’s mouth opened first.
“Well damn.”
That’s right! I should’ve been fighting instead of hearing such unsettling news.
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