Chapter 42: Cold Wind
Chapter 42: Cold Wind
Prince Blake Bancroft was dressed appropriately for the weather conditions normal to the coastal regions of Barugh. There was a cold wind blowing, and Prince Blake stood on the balcony of his room, getting a better view of the Drukzar Terrains. The water in the Sundhi River was completely frozen, driven by the cold wind.
First Consul of Barugh, Josse Guiscard, sat in the hall and watched the Prince as a servant poured tea into his china cup. With a height of three inches over six feet, the First Consul was a physically unremarkable man with a deceptively vacant look hidden within his brown eyes.
"Enjoying the view, Prince?" the Consul asked, while stirring his tea.
"Your palace is situated in a beautiful spot, Consul Guiscard. I have to say, I'm impressed," Prince Blake Bancroft replied with more good cheer than he felt. "The only problem I would say is the cold breeze, which I find to be too cold for me."
"You call this too cold?" Consul Guiscard asked incredulously. "The folks back at Farhavar Mountains would simply laugh at you if they heard your complaint, Prince."
"Only if they hear it," Prince Blake said, laughing loudly as he surveyed the land.
"Are you hungry perhaps, Prince?" Consul Guiscard snapped his fingers as soon as he finished speaking, and a servant walked in, his head bowed towards the Consul as he whispered something into his ear.
Prince Blake Bancroft moved away from the balcony and sat down in the chair opposite to the Consul.
"I have news from Rhodesweld," the Prince said casually as he took a sip from the tea served to him.
".... I see," After a brief silence Consul Guiscard spoke as he placed his cup on the table and looked out the window.
"Gottfried seems unstoppable. Everything is playing out just like he said," The Prince continued, as he took another sip of the tea. "It's like he's a prophet!"
"Well our decision of joining the Confederation seems to be paying off, wouldn't you agree?" Said the First Consul as he shifted his right leg on to his left. Perhaps he was feeling the cold.
"I need your help, Josse," the Prince said crisply, and the First Consul grunted in response.
"I don't owe you, Prince!" The Consul gritted his teeth as he spoke and the Prince chuckled. "No you don't. But you owe my country, Consul. You owe the country of Argria, and you owe the Royal Family. And besides, you know very well how Gottfried feels about the Divine Commandments..."
"Is that a threat, Prince?" The Consul snapped, and the Prince shook his head. "Of course not, First Consul. I was merely stating the facts. But I do hope that you'll take some of my requests into consideration. As a friend." The Prince could tell from the Consul's face that he was on the verge of exploding from anger.
'But he wouldn't.' Prince Blake knew him. And he knew that he would have to help him out whether he liked it or not.
"It's two months, right?" After a few seconds, the Consul looked at the Prince's face and asked, to which the Prince nodded his head.
"That's right!"
"Remember... with this, we're even!" the Consul finished speaking, and he raised his hand to motion one of the servants. The servant walked towards the Consul and he whispered something into his ear, after which the servant bowed his head and walked out of the room.
"Thank you," the Prince said, and the Consul snorted.
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The second round of the Prodigy Summit concluded, with nothing extraordinary happening.
Flying Sword Faction's Hugh Kenton was knocked out by Dark Chariot Faction's Albert Hummels, leaving only Claude Rayforth as the last remaining participant from the Flying Sword Faction.
At this moment, there were only 4 contestants left Dark Chariot Faction's Albert Hummels and Victor Hannibal, Flying Sword Faction's Claude Rayforth, and Black Pearl Faction's Dayton Palmer.
"Based on Claude Rayforth's strength that he displayed earlier, he should be able to deal with the rest of the contestants. However, if he wanted to contend for the first place, it's almost impossible. After all, everyone witnessed the strength Dayton Palmer showed earlier," the spectators, who were now familiar with Claude, began speculating about the outcome of the Prodigy Summit.
At this moment, the beautiful lady announced that Claude Rayforth would face off against Victor Hannibal, while Dayton Palmer would fight Albert Hummels.
"Looks like my fight is first," Claude said as he stared at the platform, and Senior Beldon, who was sitting next to him, turned to look at him with a slightly forced smile plastered across his face.
"What?" Claude asked when he saw the weird expression on his face, but Senior Beldon didn't answer his question, and simply continued smiling.
"Don't tell me.." Claude, who was annoyed by the expression on his Senior's face, suddenly seemed as though he figured out something, and his eyes widened with surprise.
He turned to look at Victor Hannibal, his opponent, who was climbing up to the platform, and then back to his Senior, who still had the same stupid expression on his face.
"You're kidding me.." he said, and Senior Beldon laughed out loud as he opened his mouth to speak, "You have to be careful once again, my junior! Don't make the same mistakes as last time.."
"You have a lot of explaining to do.." Claude rolled his eyes as he began walking towards the platform. He knew he wasn't going to be getting any answers from Senior Beldon, so he didn't press him any more.
As Claude began approaching the platform, his heart was pounding madly out of excitement.
'Is he going to be similar to Nathan Archer? Or is he better?' He didn't know, but he wanted to find out.
His steps grew incomparably heavy as he walked forwards, heading on to the stage, where his opponent stood opposite to him.
Claude looked at his opponent, Victor Hannibal, his gaze unwavering as he stared at the young man in front of him. Victor's countenance was exceptionally cold, like the deadly chill of winter.
'I guess this fight is going to be interesting as well..'