8mi Chapter 74: The Youngest
Chapter 74: The Youngest
Thun also broke through to become an Earth Knight, becoming the second Earth Knight in the territory.
This made Ron very happy.
The stronger your knights are, the more confident you will be in the future.
Leonardo da Vinci also looked at Thun with envy.
After becoming a knight, he ate and drank his fill every day and was fortunate enough to break through to the peak of the formal knight. His greatest desire now is to break through to the Earth Knight level.
Duolong was holding a gold-embossed invitation card when he went upstairs.
It wasn't the one Ron had; this one was just delivered.
The messenger, dressed in the black uniform of a border lord, stood at the shop entrance without coming in, handed the invitation to Doron, and left.
In addition to the time and place of the ball, the invitation also included a line of handwritten text.
"Lord Adelaide, welcome back to the kingdom's roof. Borderlands, Bergabriel Florentino."
Ron placed the invitation on the table without opening it a second time.
The border lord knew he was coming, knew when he would arrive, and knew his surname was Ashwood, but he called him Lord Ad.
The fact that the people from the capital could not find him for so long contains a great deal of information.
It seems this border lord is also helping to conceal his identity.
Sometimes, things are just that funny: many things that people at the bottom know, people at the top seem to have no idea about.
This may be a tacitly accepted unspoken rule.
Doron lowered his voice: "Young master, based on the information we've gathered, it's confirmed that this Border Lord is not only an extreme anti-foreigner, but also extremely petty. So you must be careful what you say at the ball. The Border Lord's informants aren't just those in uniform; the waiters, musicians, and even the maids serving drinks at the ball could all be his people. Last year, a lord in the territory got drunk at the ball and said, 'The Border Lord is just a tax collector,' and the next day, smuggling accounts were discovered in his territory."
"As for that lord from abroad, his territory was attacked by bandits the day after he returned."
"Understood," Ron replied, handing the rock potato noodles he had brought from the territory to Doron.
"This is the territory's newest food product. See if you can help us open up the market. And how about the beverage business?"
Duolong took the potato noodles from Diyan and looked at them with some doubt.
"Is this noodles? The color is a bit different. Could it be made from ground potato?" Doron quickly came to a conclusion.
"Yes," Ron nodded.
Duolong put it away, intending to make some to try when he got back. As for the drinks, Duolong's eyes lit up.
"My lord, the liquor business is undoubtedly the most profitable business. However, the technology of brewing liquor has always been monopolized by nobles, so the liquor in the low-end market is basically just liquor diluted with water."
Doron's words also reveal that his business now mainly focuses on the low-end market.
Doron kindly asked, "My lord, is there enough food in the territory?"
Ron thought for a moment and then nodded: "The grain cannot be used for brewing for the time being, but it should be possible in a while."
On the evening of the ball, Ron changed into the Ashwood family suit that old Hall had altered for him.
The only difference is the red background with black swastika emblem.
Fanta waited downstairs with four knights in plain clothes. Thun stood at the door, his hood removed, his gray-green skin standing out in the twilight. He had a brocade dagger hanging at his waist, the cloud and dragon pattern on the hilt polished to a shine.
The banquet hall in the main castle building was larger than Ron had expected.
Three crystal chandeliers hung high in the dome, and candlelight refracted through the crystals, casting tiny spots of light that filled the entire dance floor.
On the wall hung portraits of past border lords, framed in gold. The figures in the paintings, some in armor and others in long robes, all looked down at the guests with the same cold, stern gaze.
A musician played a soothing dance tune in the second-floor corridor, while waiters in uniform carried silver trays with crystal glasses filled with wine as they moved through the crowd.
Most of the guests have already arrived.
Ron glanced around and saw nobles from within the country, dressed in silk gowns, standing on the left side of the dance floor, gathered in several small circles and talking in hushed tones. Each person's posture conveyed a subtle sense of distance, neither too close nor too far.
The wasteland lords, dressed in leather armor or old formal attire, crowded around a long table on the other side of the hall, their voices booming and occasionally bursting into laughter.
A lord with a full beard and half a missing left ear was tapping the table with his thick knuckles, recounting how he had surrounded and killed three goblin sentries with wooden stakes.
The two groups of people were separated by an empty dance floor, as if by an invisible glass wall.
Only the border lord's servants were allowed to pass freely through the glass wall.
"The Border Lord deliberately separated the people on both sides." Harland had somehow appeared beside Ron, holding a glass of wine he had only taken a sip of. "The people inside don't need to know the people of the wasteland, unless the Border Lord wants them to."
Ron didn't reply, his gaze fixed on a middle-aged knight at the long table who was pointing out a map to several lords.
His stance was very steady, and his right arm was usually hanging down near the hilt of the sword, but not touching the sword.
This habit isn't something you train for; it's something you develop through long-term practical experience.
"That's the captain of the Silver Shield Merchant Guild's guards," an unfamiliar voice came from the side. "He used to be a cavalry commander in the Northern Legion. After retiring, he was hired by Silver Shield. The Border Lord hires Silver Shield every year, not to give him face, but to give face to his employer. Silver Shield's employer is a distant relative of the Duke of the Northern Legion."
Ron turned his head. The person speaking was a young man in his early twenties, two years older than him, wearing an old dark green suit with worn-out cuffs, but with a relaxed posture.
"I am Will Rashid, the lord of Stonethorn Territory, whose territory is closest to Gorubak Castle. I was just thrown out by my father to become independent four years ago."
Ron knew this territory well; they had passed through it, and it was arguably the territory closest to the border.
Stonethorn Territory didn't actually have any city walls; it was only surrounded by wooden stakes and thorns, with the rest blocked by a broken cart.
It is indeed safer to be closer to the border, let alone so close to Gorubak Fortress.
There's a saying in the wilderness.
Too far from heaven, too close to Gorubbakburg.
None of these territories were able to develop and remained in a state of semi-death.
Ron shook his hand. "Lord Ron of Ard, fifty miles south of Harland territory in Blackthorn Wasteland."
Will was stunned for a moment after hearing this. He didn't expect that the person in front of him, who was about the same age as him, was the lord of Adler's territory.
He said he had heard that a ruthless person had emerged in the south this year, who had trapped the people of Dehea in the valley and wiped out three goblin tribes.
He thought that ruthless man was at least a veteran in his thirties or forties, but he didn't expect him to be so young.
"You look very young!"
Will smiled and said, "I'm exactly nineteen this year."
Ron was surprised, thinking the other person was at least in their early twenties, but he didn't expect him to be only nineteen.
"He's exactly one year older than me."
Will laughed first, a laugh without any reservation: "Ron, you should be the youngest lord in this hall."