As soon as the Renslet delegation appeared, the banquet's atmosphere shifted.

“There they are! That’s the Renslet delegation!”

“And that’s Lord Entir Bishop with them!”

“Lord Entir Bishop, the greatest merchant in the Empire, who monopolizes all goods from the Northern Grand Duchy!”

What had already been identified as a trend in diplomatic and espionage circles became evident in the banquet hall as well.

All eyes turned to the Northern delegation and Entir Bishop as they entered.

“Hmph! Northerners, after all.”

“They do say birds of a feather flock together. I suppose even backwater rabble have their own connections.”

The disdain for the Northerners was mostly confined to the entrenched aristocracy of the Imperial Palace, those deeply steeped in tradition and detached from reality.

They couldn’t conceal their displeasure at how the focus of the event had shifted away from the usual figures of prominence.

“Wait, who’s that in the middle?”

“That’s the Crown Prince, His Highness Julian La Goite.”

If there was any saving grace to the situation, it was that Crown Prince Julian was personally escorting the Northern delegation and Entir Bishop.

This gave the Imperial Family at least a modicum of dignity.

But such a sight could not escape the Emperor’s notice.

“Your Majesty, moments ago, the Crown Prince was seen speaking with the Northern delegation…”

Naturally, the conversation Julian had with the Northerners was promptly reported to Canbraman.

“That boy is up to something unnecessary,” the Emperor muttered, furrowing his brow in irritation.

Already unsettled by recent developments in the North, Canbraman’s mood grew darker.

“What shall we do?”

“For now, leave him be. That timid boy has finally shown some initiative. As long as it doesn’t harm the Empire, it may not be the worst thing to let him be.”

Even though Julian’s actions ran contrary to his own policies, Canbraman decided to observe for the time being.

There were more pressing matters at hand than his son’s unexpected behavior.

“The ruler of Arcadia, the luminous La Goite Empire, representative of humanity and agent of the divine, His Majesty Canbraman La Goite, will now receive the envoys of each kingdom and region.”

While countless banquets were being held throughout the palace and the city, this particular event was hosted by the Emperor himself.

It was also the last official banquet before the coronation.

As such, every delegation had gathered, and each had the chance to formally meet the Emperor.

“The order of audience will be drawn at random. This is the will of the divine, so no family, clergy, or kingdom shall question it.”

Ricard, the Imperial Champion and head of Sigma, announced loudly, his voice amplified with mana.

“Let us begin!”

He reached into a prepared box and pulled out a slip of paper.

Everyone watched in tense silence.

“First… Hmm… The Northern Grand Duchy of Renslet!”

Ricard called out the name, almost feeling as though fate was playing a joke on him.

At his words, every gaze in the room turned toward the Northern delegation.

The Emperor on his golden throne and Marchioness Havana to his left.

Grand Duke Doom, standing to the Emperor’s right.

Golden Tower Lord Yulcaness, quietly reading a magic tome in a corner.

Cardinal Longos, the inquisitor from the Holy See.

Archbishop Theresia, who had been locked in a silent stare-off with Longos.

And even Crown Prince Julian, who stood just ahead of the Northern delegation.

All their attention fell on the Northerners.

“Ahem!”

Garde, unused to being the center of such intense scrutiny, cleared his throat and confidently approached the golden throne.

“In the name of the snowy plains, I congratulate the birth of a new sun in Renslet. Long live the Emperor.”

Behind the formal exchange lay a cold war dynamic, reminiscent of Earth’s geopolitical tensions.

The Imperial Family and Renslet were adversaries in every sense except outright war.

“Recently, I heard of a plague spreading in the North,” the Emperor began.

“Thanks to Your Majesty’s concern, it has been resolved quickly.”

Garde and the delegation responded with forced smiles, struggling to suppress their irritation.

“Additionally, with the help of the Archbishop, the North has gained its own sacred strength. Witches have been liberated from their constraints and have become proud members of the magical community.”

True to their Northern character, they didn’t let the opportunity for a sharp diplomatic jab pass.

“All of this is thanks to the undeniable benevolence of Your Majesty.”

Garde’s words were directed alternately at the Emperor and the Archbishop.

“……”

The Emperor remained silent.

“How dare you…!”

In contrast, the Archbishop’s eyes burned with anger, clearly stung by the Northern delegation’s veiled remarks.

‘I should’ve unleashed the plague on every route they traveled,’ Canbraman thought, glaring at the defiant Northern delegation.

It irked him to see them behave as though he were still the Crown Prince playing at regent.

‘No. Enough.’

He dismissed the idea. Any attempt to spread a plague and pin the blame on the North would not only backfire but also tarnish his own reputation as Emperor.

‘The North would gain a worse image, but I’d be labeled a weak and incompetent ruler. And that’s exactly what the Church and the Archbishop want.’

If the Church resolved a plague that emerged immediately after the Emperor’s coronation, the North’s reputation might worsen, but the Emperor’s authority would falter, and the Church’s influence would grow.

‘I should’ve let the relief troops advance back then.’

The Emperor deeply regretted halting his efforts against the North. He hadn’t anticipated how swiftly the North would turn their misfortunes into lasting gains.

“Let’s move on,” he declared, masking his frustration.

“I’m pleased to hear the plague has been resolved. Do you require further assistance? I could dispatch relief troops.”

“That won’t be necessary, Your Majesty. We are more than grateful for the pure and vast generosity of Your Majesty’s snowy heart.”

“Is that so?”

“Yes. Even if relief troops were sent, we fear we could not host them properly due to the harsh Northern environment.”

Garde’s refusal carried a subtle warning—if troops were sent, they might not return unharmed.

“If Your Majesty wishes to assist, financial aid would be most appreciated.”

“Very well.”

The Emperor nodded, stifling a bitter laugh at the Northern delegation’s unyielding demeanor.

‘These insolent Northerners!’

Among the other attendees, reactions were mixed.

The old Imperial aristocracy viewed the Northerners’ audacity and blunt requests for money with disdain.

‘How dare they act so boldly before the Emperor?’

‘Their defiance is astonishing.’

Meanwhile, envoys from the kingdoms found their brazenness refreshing, admiring how the Northerners maintained their dignity while securing practical gains.

“By the way, how fares the Grand Duchess of the North?”

“She is well.”

“And what of Count Arad Jin, known as the Northern Sorcerer?”

“…He is well, Your Majesty.”

“I would like to meet him.”

“Pardon?”

“Tell him to accompany the next delegation to the capital.”

“……!”

The Emperor’s words were essentially a royal decree. Refusal would be tantamount to insubordination.

“I hear he isn’t originally from the North. He must miss the warmth of the southern lands. Tell him to visit the capital.”

“……”

Garde, anticipating this situation, struggled to formulate a response.

“I will convey Your Majesty’s words to Count Arad Jin.”

Diplomatic language often served as a polite way to say, “Absolutely not.”

“Are you perhaps worried?”

“Pardon?”

The Emperor leaned forward, his smile sharp.

“Do you think we would attempt to bribe him? Or assassinate and kidnap him?”

“Such thoughts are inconceivable, Your Majesty.”

Even Garde, defiant as he was, couldn’t directly admit his concerns.

“I swear upon the golden throne that within the reach of the Imperial authority, Count Arad Jin’s freedom and safety will be guaranteed.”

The Emperor’s statement was reinforced by a heavy air of finality.

“I, Yulcaness, swear by mana that within the reach of the Golden Tower, his freedom and safety will be protected.”

The Golden Tower Lord joined in, his voice carrying the weight of an ancient dragon’s authority.

“I, Theresia, swear before the divine that within the Church’s influence, his safety will be ensured.”

The Archbishop, unwilling to be outdone, added her vow.

With these declarations, the Northern delegation was left with no escape.

The Emperor, the Golden Tower Lord, and the Archbishop had each staked their honor and authority before countless witnesses.

For Garde, there was no room left to maneuver."

***

Starting with the Northern Grand Duchy of Renslet, the seemingly endless audiences finally came to an end.

By then, night had fallen, and it was time for the banquet to transition into a full-scale evening ball.

Thanks to the bright and ornate lighting mana stones crafted by the Magic Tower, the Imperial Palace was illuminated even brighter than daylight.

Beneath this dazzling display, the entrenched aristocracy, members of the Nobles' Council, and delegations from various kingdoms momentarily set aside their grievances and alliances to indulge in food, drink, dancing, and laughter.

Still, they didn’t completely forget their diplomatic duties.

“Ah! Lord Garde!”

“Lord Entir!”

From every corner of the hall, nobles and royal envoys recognized Garde and Entir, approaching them eagerly.

Thud, thud.

However, their paths were swiftly blocked by three imposing figures.

“You. It’s been a while. Don’t you have something to say to me?”

The one speaking was Elisha von Havana, her golden hair and crimson eyes marking her as a member of the Imperial Family.

“Hm… So, you really have been doing guard work.”

Next was Doom, his pale skin and towering stature exuding an oppressive aura.

“Excuse me, I’d like to ask you something about Count Arad Jin...”

Lastly, there was Yulcaness, the Golden Tower Lord, who had spent most of the past decade away from the Tower.

“Uh… Hmm…”

Nearby, Crown Prince Julian seemed tempted to join in but quickly gave up and stepped back when he saw Havana, Doom, and Yulcaness dominate the scene.

“Surely, I’m entitled to speak with my husband first?”

Havana addressed Entir as she approached him with an air of authority.

“Do as you wish,” Yulcaness said, moving toward Garde.

“Hm…”

Meanwhile, Doom, standing near the mercenary disguised as Phil, stared intently at her and nodded thoughtfully.