Free Web NovelLouis's inauguration banquet finally officially began amidst a chilling wind.
Nobles from all over the Northland arrived one after another, observing the peculiar castle before them while whispering to each other.
This “castle,” built only a few months ago, was not exactly beautiful; it was even a bit ugly.
It was simply a cylindrical shape, with only a few small carvings for decoration, looking more like a military fortress casually built from snow.
But when they stepped into the banquet hall, all impressions dramatically shifted.
It was a spacious, domed hall, with the floor paved with polished red-gold flagstones, and the warm glow of fires in the surrounding fireplaces kept the chill of the snowy night at bay.
More than a dozen handmade wrought-iron chandeliers hung from the ceiling, their lamp oil mixed with magic powder, burning with a soft, non-glaring light, like sunlight on snow.
Thick red-gold carpets were laid along the main aisle, and the walls were hung with the red banners of Red Tide Territory and the family crest banners of the Calvin Family, their colors dignified yet noble.
Most surprising of all was the warmth within the hall; outside, the cold wind was like a knife, yet inside the castle, it was warm as spring.
As the nobles shed their cloaks, they secretly wondered, “How did this place manage this?”
Joseph stood among the crowd, looking up slightly at the ceiling, secretly scrutinizing the design of several vents, and then glancing towards the edge of the carpet, trying to find the layout of the heat source. But no matter how he looked, it didn't seem possible with ordinary stoves.
“Interesting, it seems this young lord is truly willing to put in the effort.” His heart stirred, and a smile of unknown meaning unconsciously appeared at the corner of his mouth: “When I build my castle in the future, I’ll follow this example.”
In the banquet hall, dishes were brought out one by one by the servants.
Gold and silver plates gleamed, and the food on them was dazzling, with all sorts of fine wines and meats, and even some magical beast meat.
Of course, it wasn't precious magical beast meat, but this already showed great sincerity.
“How did they get this magical beast meat?” a noble whispered in surprise.
“...How much did this cost?” They praised the food with their mouths, but their hearts grew increasingly uncertain.
Because this banquet was clearly a high-profile display of wealth, resources, and means.
And the host, Louis, had yet to appear.
“This boy is too ignorant of etiquette.” The expressions of several older nobles subtly changed.
“Is he just going to leave us all hanging here?”
“Heh, perhaps he truly believes that after winning a few battles, he can become a true co-lord of the Northland?”
This was Joseph Kaladi’s opportunity.
He moved through the crowd like a fish in water, exchanging pleasantries and glances, and those nobles who had been wavering gradually began to quietly gravitate towards him.
“At least he understands manners.”
“Yes, compared to that County Governor—Mr. Joseph is more like a noble.”
Just as the atmosphere gradually shifted and everyone's thoughts drifted.
Joseph was secretly pleased: “This young man is still too young after all.”
He raised his wine glass, ready to welcome the first round of victory in this political struggle.
And just as the conversations among the crowd gradually quieted, and their gazes continuously turned towards the main seat.
The double doors at the end of the banquet hall slowly opened in silence.
A gust of cold wind was blocked outside the door, and a figure, illuminated by the warm lamplight, slowly walked in.
It was a tall, steady-paced youth.
His black hair hung lightly, his eyes were as serene as night, and he wore a dark suit, well-tailored yet unpretentious, with metallic shoulder decorations and buckles gleaming faintly in the light.
He had no superfluous expression, his face calm and indifferent, as if the banquet was not held for him.
In this banquet hall, warm as early summer, he carried a hint of the night wind's coolness, making him hard to ignore.
This was the new County Governor of Snowpeak County, Louis Calvin.
Behind him closely followed two armored knights, one on his left and one on his right.
They were as silent and solemn as gargoyles guarding a throne, their bodies robust and their gazes sharp, clearly not mere ornaments.
This scene instantly silenced the entire banquet hall for a few seconds.
“So young?”
“Is that Louis?”
“He really has a presence—one that makes people dare not underestimate him.”
“He's just like the officers I've seen on the battlefield, not some pampered young master.”
Some nobles whispered, their voices filled with surprise and a touch of reluctance.
Some had initially thought he was just a brash young man who had risen through military achievements, but they hadn't expected that his composed and self-assured demeanor, which commanded the entire hall, would make them instinctively straighten their backs, no longer daring to whisper freely.
Joseph also looked at him.
His wine glass paused in mid-air, his gaze slightly narrowed, the smile on his lips not yet faded, but an alarm bell rang in his heart.
“This is bad.”
A sense of crisis suddenly welled up in his heart, an indescribable uneasiness.
This young man was too calm, with no excessive preamble, he simply stood in his rightful main seat.
“This boy—he’s not that simple.”
But Joseph still forced down the wavering, secretly gripping his wine glass tightly.
“Youth is youth after all; no matter how steady, it’s just a facade.” He told himself this.
But a drop of cold sweat still quietly trickled down his temple, feeling particularly chilling in the warm banquet hall.
Louis slowly walked onto the elevated platform in the center of the banquet hall. The two knights behind him stopped at the foot of the steps, guarding silently, their figures as straight as spears.
He didn't bring a manuscript, nor did he specially prepare any grand speech. He simply stood still, nodded slightly, and scanned the entire hall.
His gaze fell upon each noble's face, neither critical nor fawning, just a calm and steady eye contact,
As if he was confirming with each of them.
As if saying, “I remember your faces, and I know what you are thinking at this moment.”
The hall fell silent for a moment.
He spoke, his voice not loud, but clearly audible to everyone:
“Thank you all for still being willing to attend despite your busy schedules. And I apologize for keeping you waiting.
I was just temporarily dealing with some government affairs, which delayed me a bit.”
His tone was calm, without too much self-explanation, which instead showed more appropriate composure, even making several nobles who had initially had slight complaints secretly nod.
He even made a joke: “I know the Calvin Family’s castle in Red Tide Territory isn’t refined enough; some parts could even be called crude.”
Below the platform, a noble chuckled dryly upon hearing this, exchanging awkward glances.
“But I hope tonight’s banquet will allow you all to eat and drink well.”
He spread his hands, his posture composed and generous: “The magical beast meat, spiced soup, and Snow Eagle wine were all prepared three months in advance at my command. For today, for all of you, if there is any neglect, please bear with me.”
After Louis took his seat, the banquet resumed, with soothing music and bright candlelight. The nobles raised their glasses one after another, and the atmosphere seemed to ease considerably for a time.
Most people accepted his explanation for being late.
Being busy with government affairs was indeed understandable in the current Northland.
Moreover, the grandeur of the banquet was impeccable: the aroma of spices wafted through the air, the magical beast meat was roasted crispy, and even the wine was a treasured collection specially brought from the distant South.
Many nobles gradually relaxed amidst the fine wine and delicious food, and even developed a bit of admiration for this young County Governor.
Young in age, yet composed, dignified, and generous in hosting.
This made them waver somewhat in their hearts.
But there were always those who were not there just to eat and drink. Joseph held his wine glass, a smile on his face, but his eyes turned cold. He subtly gave a look, no words needed.
And so, several nobles who had been eating and drinking with their heads down suddenly became active.
“Tsk tsk tsk, delayed by government affairs—how exhausting. Are we, then, just servants waiting for food?”
“You can’t blame the County Governor; he’s young, and it’s good that he’s busy—it’s just, busy with whose affairs, I wonder?”
A few sarcastic remarks immediately broke the superficial harmony of the banquet.
An old noble near the platform slowly put down his wine glass, his tone smiling, but deliberately raising his voice: “Since the County Governor is so overworked, why not let us share some of his duties?”
“That’s right.” Another middle-aged noble in a grey-blue suit chimed in, “Red Tide Territory is becoming increasingly complex. Perhaps we should consider—establishing a Noble Council? With everyone taking turns to preside, helping the County Governor alleviate his burdens, wouldn’t that be better?”
These words were spoken with great subtlety, seemingly for Louis’s benefit, but in reality, every word was a stab to the heart.
The scene fell silent, and many instinctively looked towards the platform.
Joseph lowered his gaze, a barely perceptible curve forming at the corner of his mouth.
This was the “killing move” he had prepared for many days.
Even before the banquet, he had arranged for these people to propose this seemingly fair “Noble Council” at this moment.
He had even drafted the details, just waiting for the opportune moment to propose it publicly.
It was entirely aimed at the newly appointed, young County Governor. If he remained silent and conceded, it would signify weakness, but his rebuttal and refusal would be seen as arrogance.
Regardless, after tonight, the situation of Louis holding sole power would cease to exist.
And he, Joseph, would become the actual leader of the "Council of Elders."
He raised his wine glass, smiled faintly, and waited to see the young man in a predicament, covered in dust.
Louis, however, ignored those aggressive questions.
With a slight smile, he raised his glass and said to everyone, "Gentlemen, we will discuss government affairs tomorrow. Tonight, I only wish to share a drink with all of you, celebrating my official appointment as the new County Governor of Snowpeak County. Eat well, drink well, and let's not talk business."
His attitude seemed calm, but many interpreted it as weakness and avoidance.
Several nobles exchanged glances, their faces showing undisguised sneers: "Stalling for time? Is he stalling for time?"
Though not explicitly stated, the words became increasingly sharp, even tinged with sarcasm.
The atmosphere in the hall grew tenser and tenser. Joseph finally couldn't help but speak, his voice not loud, but piercing like a blade: "It seems our new County Governor's understanding of county affairs is as shallow as his enthusiasm for banquets."
When his words fell, the banquet hall fell silent.
This statement was not only a challenge to Louis's authority but also a public questioning of his competence.
Joseph's lips curved slightly, and a hint of undisguised triumph flashed in his eyes.
He had set up this game long ago.
Since the banquet began, he had intentionally feigned weakness, giving others the opportunity to question.
He let those impetuous nobles probe first, pressure first, and heat up the situation first.
Meanwhile, he waited silently, like a seasoned hunter, waiting for his prey to expose a flaw.
Now the prey had exposed a flaw.
Louis chose to avoid, chose to smile and raise his glass, unwilling to face the challenge directly, which was tantamount to admitting weakness and incompetence.
This jab wasn't heavy, but it was extremely precise.
He deliberately lowered his voice, feigning a rational yet disappointed demeanor, which was more likely to resonate with those around him.
After all, everyone could see that he "could have chosen not to speak," but "couldn't help but speak for the greater good."
Tonight, he wanted everyone to understand: the new County Governor was not trustworthy, and was not even worthy of this power.
And the person who truly deserved to be in power was right here at this banquet, someone who understood county affairs, dared to speak, and wasn't afraid to offend people.
Like him, Baron Joseph Kaladi.
Upon hearing this, Louis slowly sighed, finally put down his wine glass, and said with a helpless tone, "I originally didn't want to do this. I wanted to save it for tomorrow and let everyone enjoy a good drink first."
Then he inexplicably started laughing, looking at Joseph: "But since you're in such a hurry, let's do it now." fгeewёbnoѵel.cσm
Joseph's heart swelled with joy, the mockery on his face almost impossible to hide.
Sure enough, he was a young man, impatient, and easily provoked.
Just as he was about to respond, he saw Louis suddenly raise his hand and clap twice softly.
"Clap! Clap!"
The crisp applause echoed in the hall. Everyone was startled, and then the large doors on both sides of the banquet hall slowly opened.
Teams of armored and sword-wielding knights entered in a steady stream, their steps uniform and their aura imposing.
More than twenty knights silently stood in the hall, blocking all entrances and exits.
The hall erupted in an uproar. Everyone looked at each other, unsure what Louis intended to do.
For a moment, no one dared to speak.
Joseph froze.
He had intended to stand up and reprimand, but found his chair seemingly stuck to the ground, and all eyes were fixed on him. He instinctively glanced left and right, and a chill suddenly ran down his spine.
Unbeknownst to him, he was already surrounded by layers of cold, armored knights.
"Louis—what do you want to do?" His voice began to waver.
He tried to force out a trace of questioning authority, but the firmness in his tone was already tinged with a trembling emptiness.
Louis slowly looked at him, his expression not angry, but rather calm to the point of indifference.
But his gaze was no longer the gentle one from before, and his composed smile had vanished without a trace.
"You can take him away," Louis said indifferently.
Before Joseph could react, two knights quickly stepped forward, one on each side, and neatly pressed down on his shoulders.
One hand restrained his arm, the other pressed against his back.
"You dare touch me?! I am a noble! I am—"
His voice suddenly rose as he struggled desperately to break free. He was a genuine elite knight.
But he was firmly held by a Transcendent Knight, thrashing like a trapped beast, yet powerless.
His face began to flush, veins bulged on his forehead, and his eyes, filled with panic, shrieked: "You have no right to do this! You are abusing your power! This is trampling on the Empire's noble code! This is—!"
He roared in anger, saliva flying, his cheeks contorted, looking somewhat like a terrified fat pig squealing.
His carefully maintained dignified posture, attire, and noble demeanor all collapsed at this moment, leaving only raw panic and humiliation.
"I am—I am a pioneering noble appointed by the Emperor! If you dare touch me, you are—"
"Silence," the Knight Captain said coldly.
He raised his hand and struck Joseph precisely on the carotid artery on the side of his neck, with steady and controlled force.
"Ugh!"
Joseph let out a strange guttural sound, a mix of a whimper and a wail, his eyeballs rolled back, his tongue slightly protruded, and his throat choked. He instantly went limp.
Like an empty sack of broken flour, he collapsed to the ground with an embarrassing thud.
"Take him away."
The leading knight waved his hand expressionlessly, and two knights silently dragged Joseph out of the banquet hall.
His clothes trailed on the ground, his boot kicked over a wine glass, and wine spilled everywhere, leaving a messy and disgraceful trail.
His former aggressive and smug demeanor was now reduced to a ridiculous sight of disheveled hair, spittle-stained clothes, and limp limbs.
The entire hall was dead silent.
Even the crackling of burning torches seemed to become clearer and more piercing in the stillness.
No one in the banquet hall raised their glass, no one spoke, and even the sound of swallowing seemed abrupt.
Then, shock quickly spread as the nobles realized: this was not an accident, not a last-minute decision.
This was clearly a trap Louis had set up long ago.
He wasn't acting impulsively, but successfully fishing and then casting his net.
"He—knew all along?"
"Then what we just said..."
"It's over..."
Fear and regret surged like a tide, especially for the few nobles who had just echoed Joseph and spoken sharply. Their faces instantly turned pale, and even their breathing became shallow.
They couldn't even remember what they had just said. Some had sweat on their foreheads, quietly hiding themselves in the crowd.
Others secretly pulled their buttocks back an inch from the edge of their chairs, like misbehaving schoolchildren, terrified that they would be the next to be called out.
The most miserable was a young baron who had intended to use the opportunity to "show loyalty" to Joseph, saying a few harsh words to gain attention. Now his legs were weak, and he couldn't even control his urge to urinate. He quietly lowered his head, his face flushed red, and his breathing erratic.
"Did we—join the wrong side?"
That sentence, muttered softly by someone, was like a knife, silently cutting through everyone's pretense.
No one dared to move, and no one dared to look into Louis's eyes.
The seemingly gentle young man sat at the head table, his expression indifferent, as if this "purge" was merely a post-dinner stroll, casually weeding.
They finally realized that this young County Governor, dressed in black robes and smiling, was not some "young and easily bullied empty shell."
He knew exactly what he was doing, more than anyone else.
Yet Louis seemed completely unconcerned by the pale-faced, terror-stricken nobles.
He didn't even spare them another glance, merely raised his wine glass lightly, his expression gentle to the point of coldness.
His tone was unhurried, as if the scene just now was merely a small interlude during dinner: "Continue the music, continue the dance."
Thus, a strange sense of disjunction permeated the air.
On one side were music and dancing, cups clinking:
On the other was the awkward atmosphere of the noble who had just been taken away, his wails not yet faded.
That absurd, oppressive atmosphere was almost suffocating.
But Louis seemed completely oblivious, merely smiling as he quietly drained the wine from his glass, elegantly setting it down, as if nothing had happened.
