Chapter 139. Banquet (4)

A banquet attended by the twisted.

Perhaps misleading, but glancing around, I confirmed it was true.

Though a social event, most attendees were battle-hardened elites recognized for family merits.

Exceptional by any standard.

The murmurs I heard echoed this.

“Ho, this is something…”

“My, it’s getting fun.”

A thrill hung in the vast hall.

Stoic suited attendees and elegantly dressed women, legs crossed, grinned, all casting intrigued glances.

Some openly enjoyed it, filming with devices.

A novel event, apparently. The crowd naturally formed a circle, giving them space.

Ordinarily, this was unthinkable.

A disturbance at a Main House count’s official banquet would prompt immediate intervention or guards rushing in.

Yet the hall defied logic, buzzing with excitement.

I turned back.

There were reasons for this abnormal reaction, but one mattered.

No one intervened.

‘As expected.’

My eyes narrowed.

Despite elegant attire and poised manners, these were veterans of life-or-death battles.

Their sense of normalcy was warped.

That included Galeil, now drawing a metal rod from his waist.

“…A test? You underestimate me.”

Glaring, he faced Sirocco, flinging off his cloak.

“I don’t enjoy rough methods, but sometimes hands-on is best.”

“…”

“I’ll test you. Beast-kin, Lycaon family, called great chieftains. I’ve heard of their wolf traits.”

Muttering, he glared.

“Your ferocity leads to rudeness at a formal event. You need taming.”

Without further talk, he swung the rod.

Crackle!!

A sharp spark sounded, crimson currents flowing from the rod’s tip.

A short whip with multiple strands materialized.

“No gear at a banquet, but this auxiliary artifact’s enough to teach manners.”

Its hunting-whip design was maniacal.

Likely a shaping-type electric magic application. Loudly crackling.

“Taming?”

Sirocco stood arms crossed, sneering coldly.

“A weakling like you? Big dreams.”

“…Weakling.”

Galeil’s brows twitched. Watching his face crumple at her taunt, I scanned the crowd.

Despite the tense standoff, no one stopped them for two reasons.

First, most attendees were from Main House affiliates or follower families.

No one could act independently, nor were they obliged to.

Guards, gripping gear, observed without stirring.

With me, a direct descendant, involved, their intervention was on hold.

That’s why I showed up for Sirocco’s chaos.

The second reason?

‘Everyone knows crossing a Rank 10 mage is foolish.’

Even if someone wanted to intervene or show loyalty by stopping the chaos, feasibility was another matter.

The point was clear.

Galeil, skilled enough for the banquet, had a reckless streak.

“I never liked it.”

He grimaced at Sirocco.

“A beast-kin lowering Elsyde’s prestige, taken as a follower by a direct descendant.”

Silently swinging, his mana surged, enveloping the whip.

He lashed forward.

Zzzzt!!

Crimson sparks scattered, whip strands unfurling.

Twisting unpredictably, they targeted Sirocco.

I realized why he’d been so confident against her.

Unseen in the original, that whip countered close attacks effectively. Grazes dealt electric damage, with complex, wide-ranging trajectories.

But Sirocco stood still, watching, then activated body-enhancing magic, dodging with swift steps.

“She dodged? All my fastest electric magic?”

Galeil’s eyes widened in shock.

He sensed something was gravely wrong.

Retreating now would worsen things.

Aware of cold mage gazes, he sweated, spitting.

“Enoch must favor you. What powerful artifact lets you dodge so easily?”

“Hmph, artifact? Haven’t got one yet. He said he’d make one later.”

“Don’t lie! No gear? How do you fight?!”

Sirocco replied matter-of-factly.

“I’m strong without it.”

I smiled inwardly. I’d pitted her against him for this.

Despite beast combat experience, she lacked mage dueling practice.

Unlike Ixion, a weaker mage like this was perfect for her growth.

But Galeil, irked by her ease, gritted his teeth, stepping forward with surging mana.

His eyes widened.

Sirocco’s eyes were inches away.

“Wha—?”

Before he screamed, she spun, kicking his wrist.

Crack!

His whip flew, dissolving midair.

The metal handle spun, and in that moment, she glared coldly.

“Apologize to him.”

Crunch!

Her second kick hit his waist, sending him sprawling with a scream.

“—Guh!”

Unable to withstand one blow, he crashed into a table, clutching his side, gasping.

Struggling to breathe from the impact.

Sirocco stepped on his back with her bare foot.

Pressing hard, she applied force. He gasped, eyes bulging.

“Urgh, ughhh!! Gaaah…!!”

I approached, placing a hand gently on his shoulder, asking.

“You okay?”

He gaped, his bloodshot eyes devoid of hostility.

Realizing escape from pain and shame, he bowed hastily.

“E-Enoch, I’m sorry. I overstepped…”

No stopping here. I’d planned this, knowing cleanup was key.

I smiled faintly.

“Not sure what you mean.”

“Direct descendant—no, nim! Please!!”

“You seemed interested in beast-kin.”

Ignoring his pleas, I smiled at Sirocco.

“You’ll get plenty of experience this time.”

“No, no…!!”

Leaving his cries behind, Sirocco, catching my intent, turned aside, slightly disappointed.

She’d meant to scare him.

Rising, I looked at the pathetic wailer. This was more than enough.

My standing was known. His rudeness helped me, so no more was needed.

A direct descendant’s follower causing a scene was prime reputation-tarnishing material.

As Sirocco lifted her foot and turned, Galeil, teeth clenched, crawled, grabbing the wand.

“Grrrgh!”

He aimed the whip at her back.

Sirocco glanced over. As I reached for a steak knife, a voice froze the hall.

“What are you doing?”

The calm tone halted even Galeil’s battle fervor.

All eyes turned to the source. Teano, cap on, stood at the open doors.

Striding over, she addressed Galeil.

“I’ve notified the guards. Cooperate for resolution.”

Galeil’s final expression, as I saw, was one of a man with no choice but to nod.

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