Chapter 172: Chapter 155: Clash at the Banquet

Louis’s inauguration feast finally commenced amidst a cold wind.

From all over the Northern Territory, the nobility arrived one after another, examining the unusual castle while whispering to each other.

This “castle,” built only in a few months, wasn’t particularly attractive looking, even… somewhat ugly.

It was simply a cylindrical shape, with only some small engravings as decoration, resembling more of a makeshift military fortress built out of the snow.

But once they stepped into the banquet hall, all impressions dramatically shifted.

It was a spacious domed hall, with polished red gold stone slabs covering the floor, and flames dancing warmly in the fireplaces all around, keeping the winter night’s chill at bay.

Over a dozen handmade iron chandeliers hung from the ceiling, with magic powder mixed in the lamp oil, so the light burned softly and non-intrusively, like sunlight on snow.

A thick red gold carpet stretched along the main aisle, with Red Tide Territory’s red flag and the Calvin Clan’s family crest banner hanging on the walls, colors stable yet noble.

Most astonishing was the warmth within the hall; outside the cold wind cut like a knife, yet inside the castle it was gentle as spring.

As the nobility removed their cloaks, they secretly marveled: “How did they achieve this here?”

Joseph stood among the crowd, slightly looking up at the ceiling, secretly observing the design of a few air vents, and glancing at the edge of the carpet, trying to figure out the layout of the heat sources. But no matter how he looked, it didn’t seem like something achievable with ordinary fireplaces.

“Interesting, it seems this young Lord is really willing to spend effort.” His mind spun, a hint of an unreadable smile crept up at the corner of his mouth: “When I build a castle, I’ll do the same.”

In the banquet hall, dishes were being brought out one after another by servants.

Golden plates and silver bowls gleamed, and the food within was dazzling with variety, featuring fine wines and meats, some even of Demon Beast Meat.

Though not any rare Demon Beast Meat, it still showed a lot of sincerity.

“Demon Beast Meat… how did they get it?” a noble murmured in surprise.

“…How much would that cost?” They ate with praise on their lips, yet internally they grew more unsettled.

For this entire feast was clearly a high-profile show of spending money, resources, and means to impress.

Yet the host, Louis, was long absent.

“This kid… so unrefined.” The few elderly nobility’s expressions subtly changed.

“Are we just left hanging here?”

“Ha, maybe he really thinks winning a few battles makes him a true Northern leader?”

This was precisely Joseph Kadari’s opportunity.

He moved through the crowd with ease, exchanging greetings and glances, and those nobility who were originally hesitant gradually leaned towards him.

“At least he knows courtesy.”

“Indeed, compared to that Prefect… Joseph here is more like nobility.”

Just as the atmosphere tilted, people’s thoughts began to drift.

Joseph rejoiced in his heart: “This young man is, after all, too young.”

He raised his glass, ready to celebrate the first round victory in this political maneuvering.

As conversations in the room fell quiet, and eyes frequently glanced towards the host’s seat.

The double doors at the end of the banquet hall silently began to open.

A gust of cold wind was blocked outside, while a figure slowly entered under the glow of warm lights.

It was a youth, standing tall, striding confidently.

His black hair hung gently, eyes calm as the night, wearing a dark formal suit, well-tailored yet unobtrusive, with metallic shoulder pieces and straps glinting subtly in the light.

He bore no superfluous expressions, his face calm and indifferent, as if the banquet was not set for him.

In this banquet hall, warm as early summer, he carried with him a trace of night wind’s chill, impossible to ignore.

This was the new Prefect of Snow Peak County, Louis Calvin.

Behind him followed two armored knights, flanking him left and right.

As silent and solemn as gargoyles guarding a throne, strong-bodied and sharp-eyed, evidently no mere showpieces.

This scene quieted the entire banquet hall for a few seconds.

“So young?”

“Is that… Louis?”

“He truly has an… intimidating presence.”

“Just like the officers seen on the battlefield… not the typical young lord.”

Some nobility murmured, their words tinged with surprise and a hint of reluctance.

Some had assumed he was a rookie rising through military achievements but didn’t expect this composed, commanding presence that involuntarily made them straighten their spines, refraining from casual chatter.

Joseph also looked at him.

His wine glass paused mid-air, eyes slightly intensified, while the smile on his lips remained, though a sense of alert sounded within him.

“Not good.”

A sudden sense of crisis washed over him, an indescribable unease.

This young man, too composed, took his rightful position without much prelude.

“This kid… is not simple.”

Yet Joseph forcefully suppressed his unease, secretly tightening his grip on the wine glass.

“Young is ultimately young, however poised, it’s just a facade,” he assured himself.

But a drop of cold sweat quietly slipped down his temples, feeling especially chilling in the warm banquet hall.

Louis slowly ascended the central platform of the banquet hall, with the two knights halting at the foot of the stairs, silently guarding, standing erect as spears.

He hadn’t brought a script, nor had he prepared any elaborate speech, merely stood still, nodded subtly, and surveyed the entire hall.

His gaze fell upon each noble’s face, with no provocation or appeasement, only a composed and steady eye contact, as if confirming with each of them one by one.

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