Chapter 108: Lagovin’s Banquet
The Lagovin banquet hall was now packed with people. They were dressed in fine clothes or formal attire, their demeanor elegant and restrained, exuding the air of “high society.”
Old Earl Alfred scoffed at them. True nobility required the precipitation of history, the tempering of time and trials. Even in the face of war and slaughter, even on the battlefield, one could remain unruffled. These people, no matter how well-dressed or polite, were merely parvenus with wealth or fame.
Despite his inner disdain and belittlement, Alfred would never outwardly display such sentiments. So when these people raised their glasses to toast the old earl, Alfred maintained a dignified and fitting expression, draining his wine in one gulp.
“Where is Highness?”
The old earl surveyed the hall and finally found his twenty-second son, and also the most useless one, Owen Lagovin, in a corner rarely noticed by others.
Owen was already thoroughly drunk, entwined with some unknown girl, whispering sweet nothings. Upon noticingAlfred’s arrival, the girl hastily departed, forgetting even her fallen paper fan.
Owen Lagovin was still in a drunken stupor, annoyed that some clueless fellow had interrupted his fun. However, upon seeing the old earl’s expressionless face, he shivered violently and immediately sobered up.
“Where is Highness?”
Alfred asked again, his tone calm.
“H-Highness…” Owen stammered, his body cold. How could he know where that important figure from the palace had gone? Was that something he could control?
The old earl said nothing. He walked to Owen’s side, picked up the exquisite paper fan left on the sofa, and placed it in Owen’s hand before sitting down in the girl’s former spot.
“I told you to keep a close eye on Highness,” the old earl said sternly. “And yet, in the time it took me to fetch a bottle of wine, you got dead drunk and were flirting with a young girl?”
Owen lowered his head, staring at the paper fan, daring not to move an inch, like a condemned man on the gallows awaiting the final judgment.
Alfred sighed, “This banquet is full of ill-intentioned people. Though they appear submissive, like the gentlest lambs, if given the opportunity to stand on equal footing with us, they will reveal their true ferocious nature, eager to fight us, to tear at throats, to drink blood, and to fight until death.”
He glanced at his contrite son, regretting not drowning the rebellious child in the Brunhilda River at birth. The old earl, having lived so long, could naturally guess that Highness had deliberately deceived Owen, the fool, and was now secretly conferring with someone at the banquet.
All in all, Owen wasn’t entirely to blame. But failing even this, being so easily played by mere words, Alfred refused to acknowledge that Owen flowed with the noble blood of the Lagovins.
“Jeffrey came to see me. Guess what he told me?”
Owen trembled, his eyes showing not only fear and unease but also a hint of grievance. “I didn’t kill anyone, nor did I perform that ritual.”
As a noble member of the Lagovin family, why would he need to dirty his hands to kill anyone?
The old earl dismissed it with a disdainful look. “What your subordinates do will naturally be counted as your doing.”
Hearing this, Owen’s eyes widened, and he said with a cry, “But I didn’t expect them to do that… those outsiders are definitely the most cold-blooded and insane people I’ve ever seen. They even dared to murder Disciplinary Bureau investigators to silence them. Father, do we really have to take in those outsiders?”
This matter was naturally not as simple as Owen described. Owen had followed his instructions to contact those outsiders, but the fellow was too unrestrained, even allowing them to demonstrate their abilities in public, which led to a series of incidents.
“They are fearless because they cannot die, daring to do anything, even if it means going against the Kingdom.”
Alfred knew more than Owen, even more than other Transcendants in Leicester. Those outsiders were not merely outsiders. Not only Arthur and Roland, but even those from Geahai, Canaan, the Underworld, and the Outer Continent had their existence.
Millions upon tens of millions of alien intelligent beings had suddenly spread throughout the world, their contained might chilling one to the bone.
It must be the will of the Pillar Gods, just as they possessed alien souls yet occupied the bodies of native species of the Mortal Realm, just as they could resurrect without any cost, just as they could accumulate spirit merely by killing, learning, or repetitively practicing skills.
Only the great benevolence of the Pillar Deities could create all this.
“What stage have they reached now?”
The old earl asked Owen. The latter paused for a moment before realizing, and then lowered his voice, “They have all stepped onto the Path. The leader among them, the one who calls himself Guild Leader, has already begun the promotion to Stage Two.”
Alfred nodded upon hearing this.
“Do you remember how long it took you to promote from Stage One to Stage Two?”
“Five years…” Owen said shamefully. He was backed by Leicester’s most esteemed and noble family, enjoying the wealth and knowledge accumulated by the Lagovins for countless years. His mentor was a renowned local Transcendent.
“I took fifteen years.”
Alfred said calmly.
The speed of promotion did not explain everything. Moreover, he was a High Elf, possessing a long lifespan and not favored by any lineage except that of Source Matter and Aether. The promotions in that era were inherently difficult, with various gaps and deficiencies in knowledge, rituals, and potions sufficient to cause any Transcendent great suffering.
Even in the current society, a Transcendent who could quickly promote to Stage Three might not necessarily defeat one who promoted more slowly but had accumulated enough power. After all, promotion was not a race; the fastest was not necessarily the ultimate winner.
It was stabilizing until the end that mattered.
But Alfred saw further. His dim yet not cloudy pupils flashed with an unusual light. “In just over ten days, they can go from unknown mortals to the first threshold of the transcendent. If given more time, a month, a few months, or even years, what achievements will they make?”
Owen was startled. He was not foolish and understood his old father’s meaning.
“But we may not be able to control them.”
“You are right.” Alfred affirmed his son for the first time. “They only have interests in their eyes; they are the most profit-driven group. No matter how much you give, if someone offers a higher price, they will betray you without hesitation.”
But Alfred might not necessarily need to control them. For now, providing them with what they needed, whether it was interests or common goals, making them gradually lean towards Lagovin, and finally identifying with Lagovin, would be enough.
Yet the old earl still harbored a faint worry.
The emergence of the outsiders must herald something. Even if not, their very existence was a danger.
“This restless world may soon see new conflicts.”
Alfred mused.
Then he noticed Jeffrey entering the hall, accompanied by a beautiful blonde maiden, and a plainly dressed old priest, a scarred soldier, and a knight.
“Let’s go,” he stood up and said to his useless rebellious son. “Let’s go pay our respects to our Esteemed Highness Victoria.”
