NOVEL NEXT chapter 60 - Eating and Drinking
The banquet hall was brightly lit and resplendent.
From the high, vaulted ceiling, a chandelier illuminated by hundreds of magic crystals brightened the entire hall.
The walls were adorned with tapestries woven with gold threads, each embroidered with the Fors Family crest.
The long tables were covered with silk tablecloths, and silver utensils and glass goblets were neatly arranged.
Servants stood along the walls, constantly moving in and out with platters of food.
The air was filled with the aroma of roasted meat and the scent of wine.
The dishes themselves were incredibly extravagant.
Roasted Snowpeak Magic Deer, its fat sizzling under the golden skin; a whole rack of Snowrock Bear Ribs, thick and meaty, piled high on silver platters like small mountains…
There was also wine, a favorite of southern nobles, rarely seen in the north, yet here it was continuously poured into crystal glasses.
Such a display was rare, not to mention in the Northern Territory, but even in the castle banquets of southern nobles, it might not be seen.
The deep heritage of the Fors Family as an old noble family of the Northern Territory was evident from this.
However, this extravagance, in the harsh and resource-scarce Northern Territory, seemed particularly jarring.
Even before the banquet began, it had already caused many local Northern Territory nobles to frown.
Firth sat at the head of the table, a rotund ball of flesh.
A gold-threaded silk robe enveloped his corpulent body, its collar slightly open, revealing a sheen of oil from his forehead down to his chest.
His hands rested casually on the armrests, all ten fingers adorned with magic crystal rings, his knuckles red and swollen.
He was chuckling, like a drunken pig, his laughter echoing through the hall.
“Lord Firth is a genius, and the Northern Territory will surely prosper because of you!”
“If not for your guidance, we small nobles would be utterly lost!”
These were the words of the pioneering nobles from the south.
Each of them was splendidly dressed, their hair meticulously styled, and their speech was filled with elaborate etiquette, as if at a royal court banquet.
Yet, they had no military achievements and no foundation in the Northern Territory.
Aside from flattery and fawning, they were almost useless.
Some said he had “the demeanor of a crown prince,” while others even patted their chests, praising him for having “a temperament superior to the former king.”
Some even called him capable of “making the Northern Territory great again.”
Firth laughed so hard his mouth couldn’t close, and even the hand holding his wine glass trembled.
He laughed and toasted in return, but choked on a sip, spilling half of it.
But what he enjoyed the most was the praise from Zachary Diaz.
“Lord Firth, your orderly dispatch of the Snow Eagle mobilization this time is truly a model for the Northern Territory. Even if my father were here, he would probably feel ashamed of himself.”
This single sentence made Firth feel as if he was floating.
Zachary was a member of the Diaz Family!
That was one of the Seven Great Families of the Empire, on par with Edmund!
When someone of such noble birth praised him, how could he not be elated?
“Hahaha! Oh, it’s nothing, nothing, this Earl is just doing his duty!”
He waved his hand, his mouth twisted in delight.
In a corner of the banquet hall, the lights were dim and it was much quieter.
Several nobles in Northern Territory military robes sat silently, staring at the group of people at the main table, exchanging flattery, their faces as gloomy as the sky on the eve of a blizzard.
They were all former subordinates of the Fors Family, and some of the earliest vassals of the Fors Family.
In the past, they had followed the old master to conquer the ice plains, fight magic beasts, and encircle and suppress barbarians.
Now, they could only sit here, watching their family head’s position occupied by a round, useless fop, surrounded by «N.o.v.e.l.i.g.h.t» a group of southern sycophants who only knew how to flatter.
“…If the old master were still here, he would have kicked over such a vulgar scene long ago,” the oldest veteran muttered in a low voice, a hint of coldness in his eyes.
A scruffy-bearded man next to him sneered, “Besides eating, drinking, and using some harmless southern accents, have you ever seen them wield a sword?”
“Never,” another replied curtly. “Their armor shines like a theater actor’s, without a single scar on their bodies. Even if they fought, they’d probably wipe off every drop of blood first.”
As they whispered, the scent of wine and the chill intertwined, out of place in the lively banquet hall.
“The Fors Family’s reputation was earned by the old master with his life.”
“It wasn’t for him to… open some southern song and dance hall.”
They grew more silent as they spoke, their eyes filled with suppressed anger and disappointment.
They had also tried to advise the new Earl, teaching him to train soldiers and manage military affairs, even offering to do it themselves.
But that fat man simply wouldn’t listen.
He was either hosting banquets or taking perfumed baths.
At most, he would have his servants give a perfunctory reply of “This Earl is busy” to brush them off.
They remained silent, but all knew that if things continued this way, the Fors Family would be in dire straits, especially with the recent turmoil in the Northern Territory.
The low pressure in the corner was particularly conspicuous in the banquet hall.
But Firth didn’t notice at all.
He was surrounded by southern nobles, laughing so hard his eyes were almost invisible, the flesh on his face trembling.
Even if someone reminded him that the old Northern Territory nobles were in a bad mood, he would just wave his hand dismissively.
“Them?” He twisted his mouth. “A bunch of old fogies, still obsessed with the fighting and killing from decades ago.”
In his opinion, these people were not only useless but also hindered his affairs.
They dressed shabbily, spoke unpleasantly, and always had grim faces, as if someone owed their family thousands of gold coins.
He had publicly complained more than once: “My grandfather finished all the work for my life when he followed the former emperor to destroy Snow Country!
A lord in the Northern Territory is a lord! All day long, it’s just eating and drinking, nothing else!
Why the hell would I do anything? For whom? Risking my life? Don’t be ridiculous!”
Halfway through the banquet, the music grew louder.
The magic crystal lamps shimmered, nobles exchanged toasts, and laughter filled the air.
Just as everyone was in high spirits, Zachary approached the main table with a wine glass.
His expression was casual, his tone light: “By the way, I wonder if Earl has heard of… ‘Louis Calvin’?”
Firth’s brow furrowed, a speck of meat still clinging to the corner of his mouth, and he mumbled, “Who?”
“Oh?” Zachary feigned surprise. “It seems he hasn’t personally visited you, nor has he sent an invitation.
Now almost all the nobles from Snowpeak County are here, but he hasn’t even shown his face. Does he perhaps think this gathering isn’t worthy of his attendance?”
The smile on Firth’s face faltered slightly.
Zachary narrowed his eyes: “It is said that he was sent to the Northern Territory for ‘training’ at a young age, but in reality, he doesn’t manage military affairs, nor does he train soldiers; his troops are entirely supported by his family’s reputation.”
He lowered his voice, as if whispering a secret, yet deliberately made sure the surrounding nobles could hear:
“They say he was an outcast sent by his family into exile, but after he arrived in the Northern Territory, he spent his days in the castle drinking tea and writing poetry, even complaining that riding a horse made his backside hurt.”
Several southern nobles around them showed mocking expressions, some whispering in agreement: “A noble young master, after all, it’s hard to avoid being aloof.”
Someone chuckled: “Could this Louis be planning to show up only after the banquet ends, to avoid having to bow?”
“Hmph, what kind of exalted person dares to disregard even me, the Governor of Snowpeak County?” Firth snorted, placing his wine glass heavily on the table.