Chapter 119

A sip of peach-scented liquor graced his lips. Regrettable as it was that only one bottle had been brought, the quality of the drink was truly remarkable.

The faint sweetness lingered delicately.

The bitterness interwoven within struck a harmonious balance.

The heavy aroma of oak surged forward with force.

The refreshing and gentle notes scattered like wind before fading away.

And in the end, the lingering sensation on the tip of the tongue was nothing but the rosy fragrance of peaches.

It was only natural then, that Ewin was immediately dispatched back to that baron’s land to procure more of this fine liquor. Even though he wasn’t much of a drinker, here he found himself sipping away. She herself began to wonder if this might become a new hobby.

Lord Petri swirled the glass of wine gently, inhaling its aroma before softly pressing it to his lips and letting it glide down his throat. This was a time he wished undisturbed by anyone—an exclusive moment for himself alone.

“Long time no see.”

Especially when the uninvited guest was someone unwelcome. His brows furrowed naturally, his expression darkening slightly.

“You remain as rude as ever, Marco.”

“Hmph. When has merit been rewarded equally? Standing at the same level now, can I truly be called rude?”

“When did the future become the present?”

“One cannot achieve greatness without confidence. And my seat demands no less.”

Orderless chaos.

He was still an unpleasant man to converse with. Swallowing his distaste for conversation along with another sip of liquor, he chose not to reply.

“Tch. You’re still boring.”

“Who’s saying that?”

To come all the way here just to throw a tantrum.

He was still utterly uncharismatic.

“Pour me a drink.”

“This isn’t something you should be drinking.”

“Haha! Since when has alcohol discriminated against people?”

“Do you really think I’d offer a drink to someone who isn’t even a guest?”

Honestly, the liquor was precious.

It was Lord Petri’s genuine thought that such a rare delight shouldn’t be shared.

With a gaze narrowed in disapproval, Marco studied the marquess, finding him far too stingy for a noble.

“Do you cherish it?”

Marco snatched the glass from Lord Petri.

This act of impudence caused the marquess to glare with extreme displeasure.

“What insolence is this?”

“The rudeness lies in what you’re doing to my friend.”

Thus speaking, Marco heartily gulped down the remaining peach-colored liquor.

“Hmm. For something called wine, it’s rather weak?”

“To someone lacking the palate of a connoisseur, it’s indeed a waste.”

“Still delicious though. Just as I’d expect from my friend.”

At those words, Lord Petri showed a flicker of interest.

“Ho? Do you know who made this wine?”

“Did you think I’d come unaware? Isn’t it disrespectful to underestimate me so, Marquess?”

“That’s obvious, isn’t it? What could there possibly be in the future of someone so ignorant?”

“Hmph. Are we talking about futures when I live in the era of dragons?”

What an irritating matter.

That such achievements were bestowed upon a man like him.

If heaven existed, it would surely be quite indifferent.

“Just a moment. What did you say? Friend?”

Reconsidering the casually uttered statement that had slipped by unnoticed.

Could this brute of a man truly have friends?

“Is that surprising?”

“An amusing statement. I never knew you possessed a sense of humor.”

“Because of the debt of life, and thanks to which I gained ruins, it’s only fitting that I repay the favor, isn’t it?”

“So you’re not just a beast.”

“Did you think beasts couldn’t have friends?”

“Hmm. What if this person doesn’t consider you a friend?”

“If I say so, it becomes true. That’s my way.”

“A beastly approach indeed.”

“Surprising, is it?”

Continuing the conversation seemed fruitless; no intrigue was likely to arise. Thus, the topic was dropped. He poured a small amount of liquor into the nearby glass, filling it carefully. Watching him closely was Marco, swirling the stolen glass nonchalantly.

“So. Did you come here just to exchange such trivial stories?”

The prelude was dragging on.

He couldn’t understand why the narrative was being drawn out so tediously.

Pretending to be patient, he took another sip of the liquor.

Such a brutish man.

The very concept of courtesy seemed questionable in his presence.

“I heard you cheated a friend.”

“Cheat?”

“It’s about the enchanted armor. Rumor has it you stole a suit of armor imbued with magic—enhancing strength and fortified durability—for a mere 30,000 gold.”

“Can you confirm it’s enchanted?”

“Even if it isn’t, equipment with such effects shouldn’t be given away so easily. The armor belongs with me.”

“Are you declaring war by trying to take my property?”

“Here. Six million gold.”

Gold and banknotes spilled out.

Whether the amount truly reached six million as Marco boasted was uncertain, but it seemed close enough.

The act of pouring it onto the floor was offensive, to say the least.

“Hah.”

“The price is paid. Hand over the armor.”

“There’s a limit to how much rudeness I can tolerate. Baron Marco.”

“Is it insufficient? I have more money.”

The man, Marco, pulled out another similar bundle, jingling coins as he placed it brashly on the desk. The marquess grew solemn at the sight.

“Seems fortune has smiled unnecessarily on such an ignorant fellow.”

“Would you call this acquiring wings?”

“Unrefined. It’s right for someone who understands value to claim it first.”

“Not everything taken cheaply is refined either. A friend’s worth must be protected by the friend themselves, wouldn’t you agree?”

“Does this friend know what you’re doing?”

“What does it matter if they don’t? Friends, after all.”

“Utterly ridiculous.”

“Repeating the same thing isn’t very noble-like.”

“Something I wouldn’t expect to hear from a beast.”

Though exchanging cold remarks, neither crossed any boundaries.

Both were aware.

Only because of the accomplishment of plundering the dragon ruins did this situation avoid crossing lines.

No matter what, confidence must always be backed by power.

Lord Petri quietly calculating the cost now was considering the gains and losses at this point.

Pointless chatter scratching at his nerves was sufficient.

It was time to delve into practical efficiency calculations.

After all, his title as marquess wasn’t earned through frivolous games.

“I’ll add three million gold for the sake.”

“I’ll take the cocktail deal too, shall I?”

“No. This is strictly the cost of the drink you consumed.”

“Ah. So you won’t let that go?”

“One-time indulgence and continuous enjoyment are different matters.”

“Hmph. Your friend seems to have some decent skills, doesn’t he?”

“Seeing your pride makes me lose whatever respect I had for him. Don’t tarnish the image of the baron.”

“Because you lack such a friend.”

“Unnecessary.”

“You lack romance.”

“One doesn’t speak with someone devoid of taste.”

“Indeed?”

Marco seized the bottle and drank straight from it.

This was a moment that shocked Lord Petri deeply.

Almost rising from his seat in reaction, he watched as Marco grinned wickedly.

“Delicious.”

“Unfortunately, five million gold will now cover the liquor bill.”

“Here. Liquor payment.”

Taking out from the bundle Marco left behind were three million gold and five hundred gold pieces.

“Five hundred gold?”

“The liquor bill. One bottle’s worth. My assessment of its value. Isn’t it higher than yours?”

“Value calculation of a foolish nouveau riche.”

“A wise valuation from someone who has feasted on ruins.”

Oil and water, absolutely incompatible.

Yet, a relationship passed down through generations.

Despite the awkwardness, Lord Petri frowned heavily.

Nine million gold and five hundred gold.

Monetarily, it was undoubtedly a gain.

However, the mood of a nobleman.

The strong annoyance of losing access to a rare liquor for the foreseeable future gnawed at his mind.

Not to mention, realizing no loss had occurred to a wealthy beast added insult to injury.

Even viewed through the guise of calmness, it was a clear defeat.

So, this man had learned to display such ease.

Thought to be a fool rushing ahead blindly, Marco revealed unexpected depth.

Lost in such thoughts, Lord Petri took another sip of the remaining liquor in the glass.

The sweet peach aroma gently cleared his muddled mind.

A feeling akin to clarity washed over him.

Slowly opening and closing his eyes, he regained his composure.

“I understand your stance. Are you planning to defend the baron at the upcoming banquet?”

“Hmm. If my friend wishes?”

Saying this while smirking, Marco recalled the baron’s skill witnessed in the ruins.

Though never seen firsthand, the baron was reputed as a capable individual.

More versatile than expected.

From crafting equipment to crop cultivation, producing liquor based on that foundation.

Even showing considerable expertise in magic.

Demonstrating abilities across various fields, labeling him a genius was not unjustified.

Such thoughts led Marco to grin as he imagined the baron breaking the coalition of foolish nobles at the debut event known as the grand banquet.

“Intriguing.”

“Will you attend the banquet?”

“I intended not to, seeing your arrogance would’ve been unpleasant…”

Lord Petri was curious.

To what extent did this man value the baron?

Creating trends flowing from the royal palace downwards through crops.

Leading change with cocktails.

Being an excellent blacksmith capable of forging armor together.

Where does the onion-like capability of this man end?

“I suppose I must attend once, out of curiosity about the baron. Missing the debut of such a man would be regrettable, wouldn’t it?”

“I agree. Even without an invitation, I would’ve gone. My friend is quite talented.”

“Your pride irritates me.”

“You’re disqualified as a friend candidate.”

“Don’t make hasty judgments.”

“My friend is already married, to someone more charming than you.”

“Utterly ridiculous.”

“Third time now.”

“Blame your beastliness for making me repeat myself.”

“Talking to someone who knows no progress is tiresome.”

“Didn’t I repeatedly say that those filled with brute force are barbaric?”

Parallel conversations.

Thus concluded the discussion.

Without a proper farewell, Marco turned his back and walked away.

Lord Petri quietly watched him leave.

“Don’t forget, one debt has been subtracted.”

“Is this the price for your rudeness?”

“Naturally, isn’t it?”

“Then I guess I’ll create a new debt.”

At this, Lord Petri’s eyebrows twitched.

“What do you mean?”

“Perhaps this man could lead the times. Having contributed to improving relations with such a man, isn’t that a debt?”

Hearing this, Marco left laughing, leaving Lord Petri speechless due to a mix of absurdity and reluctant agreement.

Though slightly lacking to lead the times.

His reputation, his abilities.

There remains a mountain of things to prove.

But with such labels attached.

Once proven?

Despite being unpleasant, according to Marco’s words, becoming a man who leads the times is inevitable.

The swordmaster who awakened the nation with his blade.

The wise chancellor who guided the kingdom correctly with sound judgment.

“Maybe I went too far.”

Perhaps the liquor had unknowingly excited him.

Lord Petri swallowed the remaining liquor in the glass to calm his slightly agitated stomach.

Comparing with great figures.

Shaking his head, dismissing such daydreams.

Certainly talented, but not on par with those greats.

After all, he’s just a man risen from crops.

While food isn’t looked down upon, it’s merely considered a luxury item, incapable of elevating greatness.

Especially when considering its alignment with merchants’ peaks.

Not belittling those heights either.

It was simply intriguing to watch how far the baron would grow.

“Hmm.”

Of course, the joy derived from the liquors he brewed was also part of it.

Undoubtedly a capable man, but not yet worthy to stand shoulder-to-shoulder with those venerable figures.

Just a man who rose through agriculture, after all.

Appreciating food doesn’t mean reducing its greatness to mere luxury.

Considering its value reaches the peak of merchants, even more so.

Not intending to look down on that peak.

Simply, watching how far the baron grows promises to be entertaining.

“Hmm.”

Certainly, the pleasure derived from the liquors he crafts was included as well.

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