Chapter 95 - Barbarian Trophy (2)

I tear into the meat and gulp down liquor, casually wiping my dirty hands on the tablecloth. There's a simple reason I'm taking things this far.

'Whatever Baron Martoin wants, acting like this will help me too.'

I'm at a count's banquet. With so many people gathered here, behaving like a proper barbarian is the right move. The more stories spread about my savagery, the better a shield they'll make if someone ever suspects me of being an evil spirit.

"Excuse me, could I touch your arm?"

"Do as you like."

"Eek! I actually touched it!"

As I enjoy the banquet, fully immersed in my savage persona, curious nobles approach to strike up conversations. It feels like working a part-time job in a mascot costume.

"Say, could you shout like you did earlier, just once more?"

"VEHELLLAAAAAA!!"

"Hahaha! What spirit!"

Since the baron hired me, I put my professional pride into the job, drawing a growing crowd. There are knights among them—three in total, all wearing sour expressions. Apparently, they're jealous that I'm getting all the attention and everyone is treating me so warmly.

"At this rate, we ought to call him Little Clown, not Little Valcan."

"I heard he got that name because he's little down there."

"Look at him sucking up to everyone. A warrior's pride must truly be a thing of the past."

I make an effort to pretend I haven't heard. It's laughable to see these apprentice-knight bastards acting like that when they're only as strong as third-floor explorers... Besides, what would I gain from starting an unnecessary fight?

"Hahaha! There you are!"

As I continue filling my stomach and entertaining the nobles, Baron Martoin returns. He looks around and smiles with genuine delight.

"My apologies for spoiling the fun, but there are some people I'd like to introduce him to. I'll be taking him with me now."

"Aww...!"

I follow the baron into the mansion's banquet hall. Even the atmosphere is different from the outdoor festivities. Out there, an orchestra played lively music while young men and women danced in the garden. In here?

'So this is where the real nobles gather.'

Quiet, gentle music fills the room. The people conversing at the tables maintain their solemn dignity and decorum.

"Come, this way."

I keep looking around as I follow the baron. About two hundred people are enjoying the indoor banquet. Most are direct family members, like Baron Martoin's young son, or people of social standing, such as bank presidents and Guild branch managers.

"Many of the people we'll be greeting outrank me, so I'd like you to avoid being rude as much as possible."

After that, I follow the baron around to meet the titled nobles.

"Baron Martoin! It's been so... Who's this fellow?"

"You may have heard of him, Viscount. He's called Little Valcan, and he's been making quite a name for himself among explorers lately."

"Oh, this is him? I've heard of him. But how did he come to accompany you?"

Rather than answer the viscount's question, the baron gives me a meaningful look. It's my cue to deliver the prepared lines.

"The baron helped me when I was in trouble. In return, I've decided to protect him for a while."

"Hohoho! To hear such words from such a formidable-looking barbarian! I envy you!"

"It was nothing, really. I've told him time and again there's no need, that it's rather overwhelming..."

The baron trails off and looks at me again.

"... A warrior never forgets a debt of gratitude."

"Ha! What a sincere and honorable conviction. Bjorn, son of Jandel, was it? I'll remember your name."

This sort of conversation continues thirteen more times. Aside from the count hosting the banquet, there are only thirteen titled nobles here. Then again, even in the game, titled nobles with so much as a speck of land in this city were rare.

'I've ended up making an impression on the nobility.'

Normally, I'd have needed to raise my Fame considerably more just to attend a banquet like this. Still, I decide to be all the more careful. If I'm not qualified to be here, that also means I lack the power to protect myself should I get on the wrong side of a titled noble.

"Well, that more or less concludes the introductions. Stay beside me and rest until the count arrives."

Once our rounds are over, I stand quietly at the baron's side, faithfully fulfilling my role as a trophy. Is it because the baron is here? Or did my earlier warning work?

"... Tsk."

I'm not sure, but whenever our eyes meet, the butler simply clicks his tongue and turns away instead of pestering me over every little thing. Is this the barbarian life?

'I should've done this sooner.'

At any rate, things are quite comfortable after that. As a titled noble, Baron Martoin never gets up to approach anyone himself. Plenty of people come to him hoping to make his acquaintance even if he just sits there, and all I have to do is show off a trick whenever he wants.

"Ooh!"

"He certainly lives up to the name Little Valcan, Baron!"

Things like bending a steel bar we've brought along with my bare hands or taking on someone in arm wrestling. As time passes like this, I spot a familiar face among the approaching crowd.

"The star that rises at dusk shall guide my way. A pleasure to see you, Baron Martoin, and..."

"Bjorn, son of Jandel."

"Haha, my apologies, Sir Jandel. I'm not very good with names."

When I give my name, the paladin in white armor smiles amiably. He's the man I met after finishing the sewer commission. We'd briefly become acquainted late that night when I handed Elisa Vehench's body over to him. His name was definitely...

"You know Commander Crovits?"

Paul Crovits. Yes, that was his name. But...

'... Commander? This guy?'

When I give him a surprised look at the baron's words, the man scratches the back of his head bashfully.

"Though I am hardly worthy, fortune presented me with the opportunity to serve as commander of the Third Paladin Order."

"I see..."

I feel deeply uneasy. Since he'd come out late at night to handle a menial task like collecting a corpse, the thought never crossed my mind. A paladin order's commander? Doesn't that make him a monster as powerful as an eighth-floor explorer or stronger?

"If you ever need somewhere to turn, please visit our church. As I said then, we will never forget your service, Sir Jandel. We will remember it always."

Hmm. I'd thought he was just being polite back then. But with someone as important as a commander going this far, I'll have to drop by sometime. Who knows? It might be impossible now, but if I build stronger ties with them, perhaps they'll send a priest to join my team someday.

"Hmm, service? Commander Crovits, what do you mean?"

The baron interjects in a discreet voice, his eyes brimming with curiosity. I suppose he couldn't readily imagine how a barbarian might have rendered a service to the church.

"Ah, I haven't told you about that yet."

Looking not only at the baron but also at those around us, Crovits begins recounting the tale as though reading children a storybook. In summary, it isn't much of a story. I discovered a priest of Carui in the Labyrinth, then went on to find and kill that wicked woman after she hid in the sewers. That's all there is to it, but Crovits is quite the storyteller.

"Ha! I did hear that a servant of an evil god had appeared. But to think he was the one who defeated her!"

"Little Valcan, Bjorn, son of Jandel. They say he was born with a hero's destiny, and indeed..."

When the story ends, the baron and everyone around him exclaim in admiration.

"A blessed connection bestowed by the star. Our church, too, treasures its bond with Sir Jandel. Ah, I have somewhere I must be, so I'll take my leave..."

Having heaped praise on me right up to the end, Crovits excuses himself on business. And...

"You're a far more impressive man than I'd thought, aren't you?"

The baron's gaze grows a little warmer.

* * *

「The character's Fame has increased by +10.」

「The character's Fame has increased by +10...」

「...」

* * *

"Oh, that happened?"

"Commander Crovits is famous for his eye for people. If he said that, the man is certain to achieve great things."

As the story Crovits told quietly spreads among the nobles, the count appears, and the banquet begins in earnest.

"Count Ferdehilt is entering!"

With all eyes on him, a man descends the central staircase from the second floor, his bearing full of dignity. Beside him is his daughter, a girl in her late teens. In a way, she's the true star of this banquet.

"Thank you all for coming to celebrate my daughter Arabella's birthday. We've prepared all manner of entertainment, so I hope you'll put aside your cares and worries for today and enjoy yourselves!"

At the count's words, the music shifts to a more energetic tune, and the quiet indoor hall begins to come alive. Soft voices grow louder, and distinctly undignified laughter breaks out here and there. Well, they're probably starting to feel pleasantly tipsy. They've all been sipping drinks for a while now.

"My lady, would you grant me the honor of kissing your hand?"

The young people take the hands of those who catch their fancy and head outside to dance. The older guests remain seated, exchanging bawdy remarks over drinks as they watch the clowns' show. It's then that...

"We should be going too."

The baron rises, looking somewhat tense. When I ask where we're going, he answers.

"You haven't met the count yet, have you? When I saw him earlier, I told him about you, and he said he'd very much like to meet you."

His expression is markedly different from when we were making the rounds among the titled nobles. He looks as though he's about to face his direct superior.

'A count, huh...'

I grow nervous too, but when I actually meet him, the count turns out to be quite a hearty fellow. And he's extremely friendly toward me.

"Haha! So you're the one! I've wanted to meet you in person."

When we approach to greet him, the count actually stands and offers me his hand.

"Good to meet you!"

Even as I return his handshake in proper barbarian fashion, I can't shake the feeling that something is strange. Little Valcan, Bjorn, son of Jandel. I'm aware that I've become more famous lately. But...

'Enough for a count to act like this?'

If you asked me that, well... I certainly don't think so. After all, there are fewer than a hundred nobles with the rank of count in this vast city. He can't even be compared to the Explorer Guild district manager I met before. He's a man of virtually unchecked power.

Even in the game, events involving big shots ranked count or higher didn't trigger until the very late stages. Yet...

"You're taller than I expected! We ought to call you Big Valcan, not Little Valcan. Hahaha!"

This very count is looking at me and offering compliments, almost as if he's trying to win me over.

"By the way, what's that weapon? I heard you normally use a mace."

He keeps casually bringing up details he couldn't know unless he'd been following me with interest for some time.

'Why?'

I don't understand. If he wanted to, he could surely command top-tier seventh- and eighth-floor explorers whose fame dwarfs mine... So why is he interested in me?

'Fuck, he's making me nervous for no reason...'

Some people might be delighted to attract the interest of someone as important as a count, but not me. Especially not when I've already been fretting that something is bound to happen soon.

'... If something does happen, what will it be?'

My learned anxiety naturally begins conjuring up one worst-case scenario after another involving the count. Just then...

"Seeing you has suddenly given me an entertaining idea."

The count claps his hands as though he's hit upon just the thing and looks at me. Then he makes an unexpected suggestion.

"There'll be a tournament among the apprentice knights shortly. Why don't you enter as well?"

"... Wouldn't the knights dislike that?"

"I'll handle that issue. What do you say?"

"I'll think about it..."

I give a vague response without committing myself. After all, conveying my refusal through the baron later is less likely to cause trouble than turning him down to his face.

"Hmm, very well. Do whatever suits you."

As if that's the end of it, the count turns his attention away from me and chats with the baron. It's shallow small talk, praising each other's wives and children and wishing their families a bright future.

"Haha, I've kept you too long. I've been enjoying our conversation. Go on, enjoy the banquet."

"Yes, my lord."

Once we leave the count and return to our table, the baron immediately speaks up.

"So... what do you intend to do about that?"

"About what...?"

"The tournament!"

I figured that's what he meant. I put off answering, saying I'm still considering it. Even if I'm going to refuse anyway, I figure this will make it look as though I've given it more serious thought.

"Give it some careful thought. Who knows? This might benefit you too."

As expected, the baron tries to persuade me by listing the benefits of entering the tournament. An extra two million Stones just for participating. A wonderful opportunity to make a name for myself. Or the fact that the count has offered a Numbered item in the seven-thousands as the winner's prize.

"What? Garpas' Necklace?"

"... Why are you so surprised? Do you know it?"

The baron, who isn't an explorer, tilts his head at my reaction. That's actually a relief. If he were an explorer, he'd find my reaction even more puzzling.

"Hmm, Sir Elta told me it wasn't a particularly desirable item."

No.7777, Garpas' Necklace. It only drops in fifth-floor ruptures, and its abysmal drop rate makes it extraordinarily difficult to obtain. In many ways, it's much like the Frost Spirit Ring.

A low item number. An effect that's distinctive but not particularly valuable to explorers. As a result, it's treated as something of a dud despite its rarity. And...

'Even the fact that it has a hidden special event.'

I don't deliberate for long. My ominous feeling that it's about time something happened? My resolution to lie low for a while because of it?

I smirk. So what? Carefully weighing the gains and losses in everything I do doesn't mean getting scared shitless like an idiot and failing to do what needs doing. That would defeat the whole purpose.

"I'll do it."

"Hm? What did you just say?"

"The tournament the count mentioned. I'll enter."