Chapter 1566: Chapter 1566
The woman before him had discovered him during his battle with the Nightmare. Jenkins accepted this explanation.
He thought of the five Sin Coins in his pocket. It was a rare opportunity to spend them, but the woman's inherent traits suggested she didn't possess any remarkably powerful abilities.
As if sensing his thoughts, the woman spoke up.
"I know my abilities are subtle and wouldn't be much use in a direct confrontation," she admitted. "But as you may understand, combat prowess isn't the only measure of an excellent ability. Beyond my own banquet-related powers, I can offer many superb support abilities. For example, basic ones like 'Poison Detection,' 'Elegant Posture,' and 'Charming Visage'; spell-based ones like 'Treasure Sense' and 'Aura of Mirth'; martial arts types like 'Sword Dance: Pirouette,' 'Jester's Trick,' and 'Performer'; and even a fate ability, 'Protagonist of the Banquet.' They are all quite useful."
"Tell me about 'Sword Dance: Pirouette'." ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴀɴᴛ ᴛᴏ ʀᴇᴀᴅ ᴍᴏʀᴇ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀs, ᴘʟᴇᴀsᴇ ᴠɪsɪᴛ noᴠelfire.net
Jenkins inquired. This type of technique-focused extraordinary ability was quite rare in the current epoch; it was an age dominated by spellcraft.
"A banquet requires dancers, and a sword dance is a form of dance, is it not? Are you interested?"
The woman asked, a hint of anticipation in her voice, before elaborating:
"I've heard from the mortal clergy that you possess a rather formidable sword. Why not learn an ability to complement it? Even if the blade is immensely powerful, you can't unleash its full force in every single battle. And frankly, 'Sword Dance: Pirouette' is a rather dashing technique~"
The ability wasn't like that of a mortal swordsman who, after a decade of hard practice, could swing a longsword like a windmill to cut down surrounding foes. As an Enchanter's extraordinary power, it could naturally accomplish what mortals could not. In Jenkins's eyes, it was less a martial technique and more a powerful ritual.
More importantly, the ability didn't require a sword. Any similar object would suffice, including his cane.
Jenkins was quite satisfied with the deal. He had one Jewel of Ages and one Ring of Greed remaining, and he decided against purchasing any further abilities or information, saving them for any unforeseen needs.
The woman seemed a little disappointed but could see Jenkins had made up his mind. Once the transaction was complete, she prepared to depart, not forgetting to wish him a successful banquet before she left.
Jenkins only relaxed after he watched the brilliant red aura representing the woman vanish abruptly at the edge of the garden. He glanced down at the statue of the kneeling servant, and after confirming no one was around, he took out his cane and tapped it lightly against the nearby hedge.
Where he had touched the smooth side of the hedge, blades of grass shot out like tentacles, growing with frenzied speed. They slithered across the ground, climbed onto the statue, and slowly dragged it into the depths of the undergrowth. A sickening, grinding crunch followed as the plants under Jenkins's control shattered the statue, pulverizing it into fine dust before finally ceasing.
Once it was done, Jenkins acted as if nothing had happened and, with Chocolate at his side, strolled back to the fountain in the center of the garden. Hathaway said nothing about what had just transpired.
There was still some time before the conferment ceremony began. Jenkins had already taken a stroll with Briny and then with Hathaway, but his third companion wasn't so lucky. Neither Hathaway nor Briny were generous enough to truly consider Miss Windsor one of them.
For the rest of the time, a steady stream of unfamiliar faces approached Jenkins to offer greetings or strike up a conversation. He stood just to the side of the young women, maintaining a perfect distance that still allowed Miss Windsor to identify for him who was approaching.
These were all prominent figures in the royal capital of Bel Diran. Some had heard whispers ahead of time, while others had witnessed the scene that had just unfolded at the entrance to the villa in front of the Cold Spring Palace.
They congratulated him on his impending viscounty, and some discussed the recent arrival of representatives from the Twelve Orthodox Churches in Bel Diran. There were even guests from the northern kingdom who, in heavily accented Fidektri, spoke to Jenkins of the beautiful landscapes of Ruen and complained about Bel Diran's miserable summer weather.
Jenkins wasn't accustomed to such social gatherings, but as Papa Oliver had once told him, he would have to get used to them sooner or later.
The Williams family still hadn't appeared by the time a servant from the Cold Spring Palace informed Jenkins that the conferment and ennoblement ceremony was about to begin. But Jenkins wasn't worried. The only major trouble left in Bel Diran was the Blood Mosquito Curse, and both the Church and the royal family would provide guards to protect his family. They would be perfectly safe, at least until they returned to Nolan.
Bidding the young women farewell, Jenkins followed the servant back to the second-floor terrace of the building overlooking the courtyard, where he once again came before Queen Isabella. With the ceremony about to start, she summoned him to her side, expressing her wish for him to stand with her throughout the entire event, rather than appearing only when his part came.
"Wouldn't that be inappropriate?"
His meaning was clear. The council and the nobility had yet to reach a consensus, and he could sense that even the old queen before him had not decided who would receive her crown. Jenkins had no desire to rashly take center stage at such a time; it would only attract unwanted attention and danger, with no benefit to be gained.
"When Douglas told me you were nothing like a young man with no political experience, I was a bit skeptical," the Queen remarked. "It seems his assessment was correct."
The old queen smiled as she spoke, while the old duke standing beside her remained stone-faced.
"So, has the Legacy Sage Church provided you with political training? No... a mere six months wouldn't be enough to make you so..."
She trailed off, unable to find the right word to describe him. Perhaps many could have uttered the same words Jenkins had, but one could tell from his tone and demeanor that his attitude was worlds apart from that of young men who had only book knowledge and no real experience.
"I learned from Princess Dolores Stuart," he replied.
He offered a half-truth. It wasn't an outright lie; after all, the Jenkins of the past had been just a poor student. While he'd been exposed to far more information than the average person of this era, he'd never experienced a situation . It was his two months in Ruen, helping Dolores with her official duties and combining that with his own knowledge, that allowed him to conduct himself as he did now.
"I've heard of the princess from House Stuart," she said. "A truly remarkable young woman."
She said no more about Jenkins standing beside her during the ceremony. Something felt off to him, and he wondered what scheme the old queen was concocting.
The official guests of honor for this banquet were the naval officers and select soldiers who had traveled from Nolan for the ceremony. Likely to boost morale on the front lines against Cheslan, the Cold Spring Palace had even invited several journalists—a group rarely permitted through the main gates for an interview.
The doors to the grand building were now open, and people poured inside in small groups, chattering excitedly in the gilded hall about the events to come.
Soon, Her Majesty the Queen descended from the second floor, supported by her attendants. As she came down the grand staircase, she surveyed the men and women gathered in the hall, offering them an elegant, smiling nod. A wave of applause rose in unison to welcome her arrival.
First came a rather conventional speech, encouraging everyone to remain confident in this first year of the war and praising the courage and strength of the Fidektri Kingdom's military.
She then shifted not to the recent victory in the Shattered Isles campaign, but to the clashes with the Cheslan army on the eastern front. Despite the presence of guests from the Kingdom of Cheslan, Her Majesty vehemently denounced the disaster they had wrought in Nolan, proclaiming that this righteous war would inevitably end in victory.
She recounted the numerous small-scale border conflicts between the Kingdom of Cheslan and their own in recent years. She then traced the history of warfare between the two nations back to the collapse of the ancient Sicari Empire, before concluding with the trade and commercial disputes of the past decade.
Her words drew waves of applause. War was cruel, but for most of those present, it was also profitable. The soldiers actually fighting on the front lines would never attend such a banquet, and while the guests might spare them a thought, their own interests were paramount.
Finally, she turned to the campaign in the Shattered Isles. Although the battle had absolutely nothing to do with the Kingdom of Cheslan, the Queen's speech skillfully led her audience to subconsciously view it as the first significant victory in the war against them.
Holding her speech, she stood before a strange, copper-colored microphone connected to a steam pipe by some unknown principle, and recounted the navy's glorious victories since the start of the naval war in the Shattered Isles. Of course, the fact that both sides had already reached a surrender agreement before a single shot was fired—a detail Jenkins was aware of—was not shared with the public. The Queen's version of the campaign was a blow-by-blow account of fierce naval combat, cannonades, and a few island landing operations.
At the conclusion of her speech, she mentioned the commander of the campaign, Marquis Mikhail. The man, whom Jenkins had met several times and who always seemed more politician than soldier, was already waiting at the side with his fellow officers, all clad in their formal uniforms.
"Look, that's Briny's father."
Hathaway whispered to Jenkins. Then she noticed her own father, Earl Hersha, standing over there as well and quickly looked away, avoiding his gaze.