Talent Awakening: I, the Weakest Awakened, Start with Dragonfire Spell

Chapter 372 372-The Palace Banquet

"She made the mistake herself, yet she insists on making others bear the burden."

"The king clearly wanted to capture her outside the villa, yet she refused to go out, making so many of us suffer with her."

Nora's nephew steadied himself, his eyes slightly reddened, and said, "If that's the case, we can't keep suffering with her."

Another person lowered their voice and said, "Do you mean we should unite with others in the family and force Nora to make a statement?"

Nora's nephew clenched his teeth and nodded fiercely.

It was dusk, and the half-drawn curtains fluttered in the wind from outside the door.

Howard was in the imperial palace of the capital.

The palace was brilliantly lit, like a city that never sleeps.

Neplon was watching many people dancing, although Howard had advised him against it, Neplon seemed to pay no mind.

Howard had organized a small banquet.

Although many of the feudal lords were absent, there were still a few direct vassals who had come.

Bosiden, Vettel, Portia, Golan, Ness, Neplon.

Bosiden had a fondness for cheese, but he indulged without restraint, eating cheese as if it were bread.

At the same time, he suffered from a weak stomach.

After consuming a large amount of cheese, he urgently needed to visit the restroom and was currently absent.

Vettel could hardly speak without mentioning his purse, one moment talking about discovering a new gold mine on a continent last week, and the next discussing how maritime trade was increasingly flourishing.

Although Howard felt it somewhat out of place to discuss such matters at a banquet, he did not stop him.

Since assuming the title of Duke, Portia no longer clad himself in the somber blacks he once favored, instead opting for the fashionable attire adored by other high nobility.

Whatever was deemed trendy, Portia would don, establishing himself as a unique figure among spymasters.

According to Portia himself, the typical image of a spymaster is someone shrouded in black, silent, and lurking in the shadows.

"Must I conform to that stereotype?" he questioned.

"Can't I bring about some change?"

Howard's stance on this transformation was neutral, yet it was undeniable that the role of a spymaster seldom intersects with notions of honor.

However, now also a Duke, Portia seemed to inadvertently clothe himself in the dignity that comes with nobility.

Perhaps, in his ceaseless schemes, there lay a sliver of honor after all? Howard was not fond of entertaining such thoughts.

In recent times, following his elevation to dukedom, Portia began to pay closer attention to his domain.

He undertook the renovation of the water management systems and fortified his ducal castle, equipping it with cannon emplacements.

These actions unmistakably pointed towards a shift towards the traditional responsibilities of nobility.

Portia had an aversion to alcohol, arguing that it impaired his control over his surroundings.

Neplon mocked him for his caution, to which Portia retorted by questioning Neplon's bravery.

Asserting his own courage, Neplon accepted the challenge, thus sparking a contest between them.

Portia produced an apple and, turning to Neplon, proposed, "How about it? Our great General, let us each balance an apple atop our heads. We shall have our retainers or our own vassals throw knives to pierce the apples. Whoever's servant or vassal hits the apple first wins, proving themselves the braver. Do you dare?"

Howard sensed danger in this challenge.

The thought of either Portia or Neplon sustaining an injury was distressing to him, and he was prepared to use his royal authority to halt this reckless game.

However, Neplon, with his exceptional political acumen, anticipated Howard's intentions and pre-emptively requested that Howard not intervene.

This left Howard fraught with worry.

Ness took a bite from an apple on his plate and remarked, "Oh, Your Majesty, just let them be. Let them do what they wish."

Neplon summoned a man named Desai, who enjoyed a modest reputation among the people of the Fran Kingdom.

The fact that Neplon, who held no official position within the Fran Kingdom, could call upon Desai, a citizen of the Fran Kingdom, highlighted Neplon's influence as transcending national boundaries.

Typically, such influence might breed suspicion among kings towards their subjects, but Howard remained indifferent.

Desai was currently serving in Neplon's military forces, which, by extension, meant he served in Howard's forces.

His rank was that of a cavalry officer, and back in the Fran Kingdom, he was a baron.

Howard could not fathom how Neplon managed to persuade and recruit Desai under his command.

It seemed almost an impossibility.

Why would someone, comfortably settled within the Fran Kingdom with family lands and a castle to his name – a status not insignificant – gamble everything to serve Neplon in the unfamiliar lands of Oli?

Yet, Neplon achieved exactly that.

Desai relinquished his lands and title to his liege lord, securing a substantial sum of money in the process.

With his family in tow, he ventured to Oli to join Neplon's forces.

This move was considered extravagant by many.

Both the shadowy forces of the Oungria region and the official recruits from Oli itself marveled at the boldness Desai displayed.

When Neplon called upon Desai, the assembly erupted in cheers.

Nobles of varying ranks, some familiar to Howard and others not, some whose names he could recall and others he couldn't, all began to stir the pot in excitement.

It was rumored that Desai possessed exceptional military skills, especially adept in warfare within desertified terrains, a prowess seldom verified on this continent unless Howard were to lead an expedition southward.

Portia, not to be outdone as a Duke, made a dramatic gesture.

His cloak swirling in a graceful arc, he struck a dashing pose and clapped his hands.

A man, seated somewhat afar, stood up and approached Portia with a determined gaze.

Portia introduced his companion to Neplon with a laugh, "Ha, his name is Metinnis, a gem I've unearthed from Bosiden's circle. He harbored ambitions of becoming a prime minister, or at the very least, a foreign minister."

The crowd found Portia's statement wildly fanciful.

Given Bosiden's solid standing and Howard's deep trust in him, Metinnis's dreams of holding a significant ministerial position seemed utterly fantastical.

Thus, reactions varied—some snickered, others ignored the claim, and a few considered Metinnis another young dreamer.

Howard intervened, "Do not mock others' dreams," prompting the crowd to cease their derision.

Neplon, brimming with confidence, picked up an apple from the table and gestured towards Portia.

Holding the apple in his right hand, he leaned slightly forward and downward, his eyes on Portia, mimicking an invitation to drink—yet in this context, it was a challenge to join the game with the apple.

Portia, with a scoff, walked towards a screen cleared by the crowd and placed the apple atop his head.

Howard, still concerned for safety, worried the screen might not withstand a thrown knife.

A collapse or a knife piercing through could injure someone behind it, so he had guests behind the screen move aside.

Metinnis, a vassal of Portia, donned a pair of white gloves and took a stack of throwing knives, positioning them in his left hand while preparing to throw with his right.

Neplon also positioned himself slightly in front of the screen beside Portia, with Desai, already armed with a knife, ready to throw.New ɴᴏᴠᴇʟ ᴄhapters are published on novelenglish.net . ꜰirᴇ.nᴇt

Neplon suggested Howard announce the start, but Howard declined.

"You love to play, go ahead. I won't be a part of it," Howard stated.

Neplon, unfazed, turned to Ness with a smile, who eagerly stood up, walked to the throwers' left side, and announced, "Three, two, one, throw!"

Metinnis was the first to release his knife, aiming it a safe distance from Portia.

As the initial thrower, he was still gauging the appropriate range for his throws, intentionally keeping the knife far from Portia to avoid any risk of injury.

The guests, witnessing the knife land far from its mark, voiced their disappointment at the lack of thrill.

Desai swallowed hard, sensing the guests' and nobles' desire for a display of bravado.

After all, Metinnis, being a diplomat or a common noble, faced no great shame in missing his target.

But Desai's position was different; as a military man, he couldn't afford to be outdone in a test of martial skill.

Driven by a competitive spirit and his military background, Desai felt the pressure to excel.

Moreover, having moved to the Oli Kingdom at Neplon's behest, believing in greater prospects under Neplon's leadership, Desai saw this as an opportunity to distinguish himself.

A notable performance could potentially earn him recognition from the king himself, perhaps even a grant of land.