A month and two weeks have passed since the artificial Outer gods incident caused by Duke Komalon.
Stalian V sighed deeply in Tern, a sigh laden with multiple meanings.
Now that it was confirmed that Duke Komalon had instigated the incident, the Kingdom of Ashtalon had no choice but to compensate other kingdoms in some way.
However, Stalian V wasnât overly stressed by this; he had anticipated such an outcome from the moment he began investigating the incident and had prepared accordingly.
Even managing to settle reasonable compensation terms after extensive discussions during the bi-monthly emergency meeting.
Yet, his expression remained grim.
âI shouldnât have interfered with Marquis Palatio back thenâsigh,â Stalian V pinched the bridge of his nose.
Nothing had directly happened between him and Marquis Palatio since he hadnât even seen the Marquisâs face after that day.
The real reason for his unease was Yuman.
Stalian V repeatedly thought back to the remarks Yuman had made during the meeting.
âHmm, thatâs so? I think itâs inadequate.
âHmm, you should clearly apologize for this part. Passing it off so lightly doesnât look good. Oh, wasnât it the same last time?
âIt almost sounds like youâre saying other countries are also to blame, which doesnât sound good.
Yuman had relentlessly found faults and attacked every time Stalian V spoke.
Unable to understand Yumanâs persistent attitude, Stalian V was puzzled.
Although the Kingdom of Ashtalon and Rosario werenât very close, their relationship was not bad, and the same was true with the saint.
Yet, this relationship seemed shattered by a single incident involving Marquis Palatio.
âMy head hurts,â
he thought, filled with doubts,
âWhat exactly is the relationship between Marquis Palatio and him?â
It was odd that Saint Yuman would defend Marquis Palatio, who was closely connected to Archbishop Yutia, and although it wasnât apparent, there was a mutual check between Archbishop Yutia and Saint Yuman of Rosario.
Therefore, Yumanâs seemingly supportive stance towards the Marquis was peculiar.
âThatâs it. There must be something about Marquis Palatio⊠I should look into it,â Stalian V resolved firmly, unable to just let it go.
âYour Majesty, itâs time to join the meeting,â said a voice, prompting Stalian V to stand up.
His expression was more relaxed than before, as Saint Yuman would no longer participate in the meetings from today.
With a somewhat lighter heart, he proceeded to the conference hall, only to be met with the glaring golden eyes of a beastman from the Colony, staring as if to devour him.
â??â
Although he did not understand why such a look was directed at him, he soon recalled that she had a very close relationship with Marquis Palatio and let out a low sigh.
That day, Stalian V grimly vowed, âI really shouldnât mess with Marquis Palatio.â
Despite the vow, unfortunately, Stalian V encountered many unhappy incidents in Tern over the next week, during the peak of winter.
***
Meanwhile, Alon had been back at his duchy for about two months, spending most of his time resting due to mana addiction.
Although his recovery was surprisingly quick, allowing him to move around without much difficulty after some time, he was still unable to use magic.
Thus, he could not engage in practical magic research, spending his days in rest.
Nonetheless, he wasnât entirely idle as he had duties as the lord of his lands.
He had to deal with the piled-up and exceedingly tedious paperwork.
However, the process wasnât too dull because of a sudden, unexpected victory.
âHa ha ha ha, itâs a victory for me indeed.â
âWait, what? How did this happen?â
âFoolish, to think you could defeat a godâitâs pure arrogance.â
It was because of Basiliora.
Alon looked at the two beings facing each other across a board game similar to chess.
Evan, with a shocked expression, and Basiliora, a small spiritual entity with a triumphant upper body.
The contrast between their fortunes was starkly apparent.
âHey, letâs do it again.â
âWhy should I redo it? Do you think I, of such noble stature, should stoop to rematch a lowly creature like you?â
âEnough of your nonsense. How can you boast about one win in thirty matches?!â
Evanâs voice was filled with injustice, and for once, Alon empathized with him.
Basiliora had lost to Evan more than thirty times and had been boastful about the one lucky win as if a novice had beaten an expert in a fighting game and called them inadequate.
âAh, itâs so annoying dealing with this blockhead.â
âSo, what can you do about it? Youâre just shaking in your boots!â
Basiliora, with his mouth agape, curled up and lifted his small body, which was adorable at just 30cm tall due to being a spirit.
âLord! Canât you summon this creature?!â
âIf I summon him at his actual size, this whole domain would be destroyed.â
âHow about a smaller size, about my height?â
âNo, I canât.â
Alon genuinely wanted to materialize Basiliora to tease Evan, but unfortunately, it was impossible.
The limit for using the artifact âWandererâs Salvationâ was five years⊠or was it ten?
Alon glanced at his bracelet.
It had glowed bright red when summoning Basiliora, but now it was ominously dark, indicating a wait time of five to ten years before the artifact could be used again.
However, Alon wasnât too concerned because there was another way to use the bracelet, having bypassed cooldowns in games through resets.
âMaybe about half a year after the original story began?â
Alon shrugged as he thought about the character who could reset the cooldown of Salvation.
âIndeed, foolish humans canât defeat meââ
âLord, this guy flinches every time the central tower is mentioned. There might be something there; letâs send him there.â
â!? Wait, thatâs underhandedââ
Recently, Alon had been keeping himself entertained by watching Evan and Basiliora play while working on paperwork.
As time passed, about four months later, Alonâs mana addiction gradually faded, allowing him to perform magic a couple of times and welcoming the warmth of spring instead of winterâs chill.
âEvan.â
âYes?â
âWhen did we get an auction house in our domain?â
âI believe it was about four months ago. Didnât you receive a report about it?â
âYes, I remember that.â
âWhy do you ask?â
Alon checked the figures in the documents again.
âItâs just that for something that started only a few months ago, itâs paying a lot of taxes.â
The reason Alon asked about the auction house despite knowing it existed was precisely because of the taxes.
âItâs only been three months, and the taxes are this highâŠ?â
The amounts werenât shockingly large, but the figures were significant considering it was just from a few months of operating an auction house.
âEvan.â
âYes?â
âCan you bring the owner of the auction house here?â
âThe owner?â
âYes.â
Alon wanted to meet the auction house owner, thinking about developing the domain further.
Although he was somewhat naive about managing the domain, maintaining it wasnât too difficult, given his experience with paperwork.
However, growing it was another matter.
The ducal finances were essentially breaking even, aside from the money Alon brought in.
Costs mostly consumed any additional revenue, achieving a net zero gain.
Therefore, he thought,
âIf the auction house is doing well, perhaps investing in it and expanding it into something like a tourism industry might be a good idea.â
Alon began forming a plan in his mind.
Alon needed to discuss business with the owner of the auction house.
Even if a plan seemed plausible, business was fraught with variables, and experience was known to make a difference.
Shortly after, through Evan, Alon had the owner summoned, and he was at a loss for words when he saw who it was.
ââŠâŠAlexion?â
âGood to see you, my lord.â
It was all too familiar.
Alexionâs life had taken a turn for the worse from the moment he met Radan, the Pirate King.
Enduring numerous hardships and ultimately succumbing to Radanâs coercion(?), Alexion found himself at the ducal house, wondering what sins he had committed in a past life, though his current life was not without its faults either.
Nevertheless, there were days filled with gloom, but Alexion had eventually managed to turn his fortunes around.
His innate business acumen brilliantly caught on to the fact that many trade guilds frequented the Palatio ducal house, and in just a few months, he had established a thriving auction house from nothing.
ââŠâŠWhy are you here?â
âHa ha, it just turned out this way.â
Alexion wanted to shout, âYour brother, the pirate, dragged me here by force!!!â but he restrained himself.
After all, such a statement would not benefit him.
He had also been warned by Radan to behave if he wanted to live.
Given that he did not wish to die, being cautious with his words was natural.
Despite the circumstances potentially making it awkward, Alexion was quite pleased.
He roughly guessed why the Marquis had summoned him,
ââŠâŠIâm not good with words, so Iâll speak bluntly. I want to invest to grow our domain. May I hear your thoughts?â
This was precisely the discussion Alexion had anticipated from the Marquis.
Normally, it would be premature to rejoice, but knowing the Marquisâs intentions through Radan, the Marquisâs words sounded to Alexion like, âI want to give you money.â
Regardless of what the Marquis was thinking, Alexion was confident in his ability to secure investment through his own skill.
So, he thought,
âHow should I approach this? Maybe start by linking it to a tourism venture and then suggest expanding the auction house?â
While considering how to charm the Marquis, who was not antagonistic towards him, Alexion smiled inwardly.
Although he wasnât insane enough to scam someone connected to the Pirate King, he could probably get a bit more than he initially expected.
âAhemââ
Just as Alexion cleared his throat, his eyes caught something outside the window.
A woman with blond hair and dark clothes was perched on a tree outside, staring intently at Alexion.
Upon making eye contact, she promptly pulled a magical device from her bosom.
And then, as she slightly smiled, the device emitted light, projecting an image in front of Alexion.
His expression instantly hardened.
The image showed Radan looking back at him with a stern and solemn expression.
ââŠâŠâ
Clouds of gloom once again shrouded Alexionâs face.