Chapter 109: Gregor’s Flattery, Shot in the Wrong Place

The banquet was held in the main hall of Oak Castle.

Along the long dining table—

Old John, his rounded belly bulging, was full of eagerness and fawning enthusiasm.

“Vice Commander, please try this freshly hunted snow deer tenderloin.”

“It was roasted with rosemary picked from near the Misty Forest. They say it’s blessed by the Angel himself—absolutely divine in flavor!”

Brian sat upright like a statue of stone.

His indifferent eyes swept over the food on the plate; his knife and fork did not move an inch.

The worn armor he wore clashed starkly with the surrounding opulent decorations.

However—

In the corner, Baron Gregor’s fingers fidgeted around his wine glass, itching to act.

Watching Old John’s groveling display, he instantly understood without need of reminder—

This knight from the Imperial Capital must be someone of astonishing background!

If he could seize this chance to curry favor, perhaps the Wells family could once again reclaim its glory!

After a while—

Gregor could no longer restrain himself. He rose with his wine glass in hand,

Forcing out the carefully practiced smile he believed to be refined and appropriate,

And walked toward Brian’s seat.

“Vice Commander.”

Gregor bent slightly, his voice smooth and deliberate.

“Oak Town enjoys peace today only because pillars of the Empire like yourself sit in command.”

“I, Gregor Wells, once Lord of Florence, though fallen into misfortune, have never changed my reverence for the Empire and its mighty defenders.”

“This glass of wine is to your valor and majesty—may the Holy Light ever bless you…”

His flood of flattery was still spilling out—

When an overwhelming, mountain-heavy pressure suddenly crashed down!

Gregor’s ingratiating smile froze instantly.

Then his knees buckled uncontrollably, and with a thud,

He collapsed full-length onto the cold marble floor!

Crack!

The crystal goblet in his hand flew free, striking the table’s edge,

Shattering into countless sparkling fragments.

The costly crimson wine splashed all over his expensive silk attire.

The entire banquet hall—

Fell into deathly silence.

Even the candle flames seemed to halt their flicker.

The attendants froze in place, forgetting even to breathe.

Old John’s smile stiffened, his plump body trembling slightly, a flicker of dread flashing in his eyes.

Only Brian remained seated as before, not even lifting an eyelid—

As if he had merely brushed away an annoying insect.

After a long silence—

A cold, hoarse voice,

That sounded as though it hadn’t spoken for a long time, rasped out a single word from Brian’s tightly pressed lips:

“Scram.”

As the word fell—

The terrifying, mountain-like pressure instantly dissipated.

Gregor finally gulped down mouthfuls of air,

His entire body drenched in cold sweat, completely disheveled.

All color had drained from his face, leaving only boundless fear.

He had felt it clearly—

A killing intent.

Naked. Unrestrained.

“H-He truly wanted to kill me!!”

Gregor thought in abject terror.

He didn’t even dare to raise his head again to glance at Brian.

He scrambled up on hands and knees, staggering out of the banquet hall, vanishing into the shadows of the corridor beyond.

That panicked figure—looked exactly like a beaten stray dog…

Brian slowly lifted the untouched glass of water before him and took a sip.

In the depths of his gray-blue eyes—

Lay undisguised disgust and contempt.

When he had accepted this mission in the Imperial Capital,

He had already reviewed the information on Oak Town and its neighboring lords.

Gregor Wells—

When Florence fell, he had abandoned an entire city of soldiers and tens of thousands of citizens who were fighting and bleeding to the last,

Fleeing first with his personal guards!

Such conduct, in Brian’s eyes—

Was even more disgraceful than a deserter on the battlefield!

A disgrace to nobility! A disgrace to knighthood!

If not for the slight favor Brian had developed toward Old John upon entering the town earlier, out of respect for the man—

That moment just now—

It had not merely been intimidation through pressure…

Faced with the scene before him,

Old John truly lived up to the title of “old fox.”

After a brief moment of shock,

He immediately put on an even humbler smile,

As if nothing had happened, and personally poured a fresh glass of water for Brian.

“Vice Commander, please calm your anger, calm your anger.”

“Baron Gregor… sigh, he was simply scared out of his wits by the Undying Calamity, lost all decorum.”

“You have traveled far and worked hard—please, have more of our local fare…”

…

The next morning.

Brian was in the courtyard, adjusting his saddle.

Old John had already been waiting at the side, with several capable guards standing behind him.

Beside them was a modest horse-drawn wagon loaded with goods, said to be prepared as gifts.

“Good morning, Vice Commander.”

Old John greeted with a beaming smile and a polite bow.

Brian nodded slightly,

His gaze suggesting that there was no need for them to follow.

Old John immediately caught on, stepping forward hastily,

Bowing even lower, his tone sincere beyond measure.

“My lord, I beg you to permit me to accompany you.”

He showed just the right amount of pious devotion.

“To tell the truth,”

“Though I was fortunate to receive the Angel’s blessing and preserve the peace of Oak Town—and even more fortunate to be granted the title of count—”

“It is my regret that I have never yet had the chance to personally visit the Holy Sanctuary, to give my thanks for the Angel’s boundless grace!”

“Whenever I think of it, I feel deep fear and guilt~”

“To accompany you on this journey is truly the greatest blessing of my life!”

“I only hope you may grant me this humble wish—allow me to offer my most devout gratitude in that sacred place!”

His words were earnest, his posture exceedingly humble.

He had skillfully wrapped his desire to follow within the guise of piety toward the Angel.

Brian watched him silently for a few seconds.

Finally, he gave a slight nod—granting tacit permission.

To him, it made no difference who led the way, so long as it did not delay his task.

As for how much sincerity and how much calculation lay behind Old John’s words—

He could not be bothered to discern.

“Let’s move.”

The group left Oak Castle and soon arrived at the morning marketplace.

There, the town’s atmosphere—

Had a unity unseen before the catastrophe.

Brian happened upon two burly men who looked like mercenaries,

Pinning a shifty-eyed, small-framed man to the ground—clearly a pickpocket.

A small crowd of townsfolk quickly gathered around.

Yet there was no trace of mockery in their eyes—only shared condemnation.

“Wretch!”

“How dare you commit such filthy deeds under the Angel’s very gaze!”

The leading mercenary barked in fury,

Delivering a kick to the thief’s backside.

“Get out of Oak Town!”

“If I see you again, I’ll beat you again! You hear me?!”

“I hear! I hear!”

“Mercy, good sirs! I’m leaving! I’m leaving right now!”

The thief scrambled away in a panic, not daring to look back.

The crowd did not disperse.

Instead, whispers rose among them.

“Another refugee, I bet? Knows nothing of our ways.”

“Exactly~! Our Oak Town is under the Angel’s watch—we won’t tolerate such filth.”

“Didn’t Captain Zock and his men take care of the one who caused trouble at the tavern last time?”

“Thanks to the Angel, our whole town’s heart is united now…”

Brian slowed his horse, listening quietly.

He could not help but admit—faith truly was a mysterious force.

It could kindle hope amid ruins, gather scattered sands into solid stone.

Thus the remarkably low crime rate and the spirited morale of Oak Town’s people had far exceeded his expectations.

Of course, it was not without its drawbacks.

An overly fervent religious atmosphere—

Could at times become a shackle hindering progress.

For instance, the freedom of trade in Oak Town was now somewhat less than before.

New merchants and mercenaries who came to trade inevitably found themselves “baptized” by the rhetoric of Holy Light—

And with particularly heartfelt enthusiasm.

After all, in the eyes of Oak Town’s residents: This is for your own good!

To believe in the Angel was something sacred and beautiful!

Without it, your life would be filled with suffering…

In short—

The religious atmosphere of Oak Town now ranked just below that of the Holy Light Town.

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