Chapter 303: Hypocrite
"So this is what happened?"
"Yes, sir," Kradwell nodded as he bowed, his tone respectful.
In front of him sat a man of noble stature, his demeanor calm but sharp. He was dressed in a dark, finely tailored suit, simple yet elegant, and carried himself with an air of quiet authority. His hair was neatly combed back, and his eyes—cold and calculating—betrayed the careful thoughts running through his mind.
Seated comfortably in a luxurious chair, he held a glass of wine in one hand, swirling it idly as he listened.
Across from this man sat a young man. This young man was none other than Charles Drickon, the youngest son of Earl Drickon. As for the identity of the man Kradwell was bowing to, it was none other than Earl Drickon himself.
"The interference of Lady Freya is quite troubling," the Earl said as he took a sip of wine.
"What should we do now?" Kradwell inquired as he straightened himself.
"Hmm," Earl Drickon thought about it for some time before replying, "nothing, for now, we will do nothing."
"B-But, Father—" Charles was about to protest when he heard the sound of the glass his father was drinking from crack, and he immediately fell silent.
"Shut it!" the Earl said, a hint of anger leaking through his tone. "It's all your fault in the first place," the Earl added coldly. "If you were just a little bit like your elder brother and sister, you wouldn't have been so easily kidnapped, and none of this would have happened. So, unless I allow you to speak, I don't want to hear anything from you, is that clear?"
Charles gritted his teeth and nodded his head.
The Earl sighed, took a sip of wine from his cracked glass, and said, "We can't afford to make an enemy out of the Drazen family. Our family might be considered the wealthiest of the Earl families, but it's only because the Drazen family has no desire to let anyone know about their wealth. Otherwise, I doubt even some Duke families earn as much as they do."
"Besides their wealth, there are also the connections they've built over the years. These connections go well beyond just the Fiore Empire. We would need to be suicidal or complete fools to want to be in the bad books of such a family. We can't go against them, at least not yet."
"I understand," Kradwell nodded, "but from my understanding, the current matriarch doesn't have the unanimity of the family. Those from the principal branch, in particular, are against her being the matriarch. Maybe we can take advantage of this fact."
"You are right," the Earl nodded, "however, for now, we won't act."
"And what do we do about that masked man?" Kradwell inquired.
"Nothing. Leave him be for the moment," the Earl waved his hand. "As long as he is in Drisidd, don't attempt anything, but the instant he sets foot outside the city," the Earl's eyes gleamed dangerously, and his glass completely shattered, "I want him and the woman accompanying him in front of me, whether dead or alive."
Kradwell's eyes flashed with a dangerous light, and he nodded. "It will be done as you desire, sir."
"Good," Drickon said, waving the last fragments of glass off his hand. "Meanwhile, see with the city lord and pay for the damages done to the city as required by Lady Freya," Drickon paused for a moment before adding, "Don't forget to pay that masked man the fee he requires for saving this good-for-nothing."
Charles flinched when he was mentioned, but he didn't say anything and kept his mouth shut.
"How much should we give that man?"
"Give him a substantial sum," the Earl waved his hand. "In any case, we will recover our money later on."
"What if he spends all of it in the meantime?" Kradwell pointed out.
"Well, I hope he would appreciate spending that money because the price for it will be his head," Earl Drickon replied with a sinister chuckle that sent a shiver down the backs of Charles and Kradwell.
"Now leave, I want to speak with my son," Drickon said after a moment.
"As you wish," Kradwell bowed one last time and left the room, leaving the father and son alone.
"Now you..."
***
At the same moment the conversation between Earl Drickon and his son unfolded, Alex and Freya exited Baron Drisidd's estate.
As usual, Freya maintained her composed and unreadable expression, while Alex, if anyone could have seen his face, was grinning from ear to ear.
If there had been no people around, Alex would have likely been shouting with joy. Why wouldn't he be? He had just acquired not one, not two, but three additional B grade treasures, on top of the Tears of Knowledge!
All of that for absolutely nothing!!
All he could say was that Freya was an exceptional negotiator, no, even the word exceptional wouldn't do justice to her talents in manipulating the conversation and sealing deals with her sharp instincts. She had a way of turning the tide in her favor that was nothing short of astonishing.
Just for the chance of getting the same deal as the healing potion for the rejuvenating potion, Baron Vesper had been forced to throw two other B grade treasures besides the one he was already meant to give Alex for the deal of the healing potion, and not just any B-grade treasure, but two B+ treasures!
To top it off, Alex had been given the privilege of deciding both the type and category of the treasures himself!
He was in such a good mood that he decided to let the Wardell and Aldrion families not pay anything for rescuing and escorting their respective children.
Well, this wasn't the only reason. He was also grateful for Vesper and Althea for having intervened and helped him during his battle against Earl Drickon's people. Plus, in the case of the Wardell family, Daisy had helped him figure out the synergy between the heat element and the smoke element, so he was also grateful to the young woman.
Minutes later, Alex and Freya hailed a carriage and left Baron Drisidd's estate, their direction: the grand auction hall. It was there that the annual auction would take place and also where they were going to retrieve the tears of knowledge.
As they settled comfortably in the carriage, the smoke mask dissolved, revealing Alex's dreamy face to Freya's great delight. He offered her a grateful smile and said, "I wanted to thank you for negotiating on my behalf. Thanks to you, I now possess four B-grade treasures."
"You don't have to thank me, Sir Alexandre. After all, it is the quality and value of your potions that did most of the convincing," Freya replied humbly. "I've noticed, though, that you seem to underestimate their worth. They are incredibly valuable, and their value will only increase in the coming months."
Alex raised an eyebrow and asked, "Why do you say that?"
"There are rumors about the escalating tensions at the borders between the Fiore Empire and the Grass Kingdom. If this continues, it won't be long before both sides declare war on each other," Freya informed him. "If something like that happens, the value of your healing and rejuvenating potions will skyrocket. After all, war is not only destruction; it also creates opportunities for those who know how to take advantage of it."
"Yeah, you're right," Alex said, exhaling deeply.
"You don't seem very pleased to know that your potions could earn you more money," Freya pointed out.
"Oh, I'm glad about that," Alex sighed again. "It's just that I hate war," he added with a hint of melancholy in his voice.
The instant he had this thought, Alex couldn't help but shake his head. 'What a fucking hypocrite,' he mused, reflecting on his own contradictions.
He had just declared his hatred for war, and he truly meant it. Yet, he was the one planning to lead a rebellion against the Fiore Empire. Everything he was doing—creating and nurturing Arcane, making potions, selling them, and trying to infiltrate the underworld—was all aimed at a single goal: raising enough funds to go to war.
He hadn't confided in anyone about it, but Alex was deeply conflicted regarding the rebellion he planned to lead. One part of him burned for vengeance against those who had wronged his father and suppressed his family, willing to go to great lengths to achieve that goal. Yet, there was another part—likely the Jack aspect of his identity—that sought a resolution that didn't involve war.
Ultimately, Captain Jack—a part of him—was incredibly skilled in warfare yet completely sick of war. It wasn't the act of war itself that he despised, but the notion that innocent people would be sent to their deaths due to someone's selfish motivations.
Alex took a deep breath, settling his heart as he sighed internally. 'In any case, even if I don't take action against them, the imperial family will target me and my family until we are dealt with completely. I may loathe war, but if I do nothing, my people will be in danger. I would much rather be the one inflicting pain than the one suffering it.'
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