Chapter 61: Chapter 61: The Gift
Zachary lowered his head, took a small sip of wine, a glint of calculation flashing in his eyes.
He sighed, feigning helplessness, "Perhaps. After all, Calvin seems not to understand the importance of respecting others. If it were me, I would’ve personally come to pay my respects to you, Count."
Count Fos knitted his brows tightly, anger beginning to surface on his face.
The chatter of the banquet seemed to be drawn to these words, and the atmosphere turned somewhat heavy.
Count Fos remained silent for a moment, then struck the table, "This Calvin needs to be disciplined. He must understand that the Northern Territory is not a place without rules."
"For the subsequent operations, I want him to go to the most dangerous places, to charge at the very front!" Count Fos thought, a cold gleam in his eyes.
The plan goes smoothly.
Zachary smiled slightly, but inside he was filled with a twisted pleasure.
Count Fos’s decision was exactly the result of Zachary’s carefully laid plan.
Ever since Louis embarrassed him at the banquet, a fire of anger had been building in Zachary’s heart.
Particularly Louis’s disdainful gaze, it had dealt a severe blow to his self-esteem.
"Who do you think you are?" Zachary sneered in thought, "Just a family castaway, yet you dare to look down on me?"
Exploiting Count Fos’s ignorance, he could easily place Louis in the most perilous position.
And Louis’s arrogance would make him pay the highest price.
Of course, Zachary also knew when to stop.
As long as prejudice was planted in Fos’s heart, the rest was left to time to ferment.
He quickly shifted the topic, talking about his interesting experiences while hunting in the South.
The nobility gradually relaxed, and the atmosphere began to warm up.
The banquet returned to its expected liveliness, seemingly closing on a note of "an unforgettable evening."
However, as the banquet neared its end, an attendant hurried into the hall, whispering a report to the head table.
"To report to the Count, Baron Calvin and Baron Harvey are already outside the door."
At hearing this name, Count Fos’s brows immediately furrowed.
"Baron Calvin?" he repeated, displeasure evident.
Standing next to him, Zachary’s lips curled into a subtle smile.
Unexpectedly, that unlucky Louis had delivered himself to the doorstep; it was as if heaven was aiding him.
He lowered his voice just enough for the Count to hear, "It is indeed Louis Calvin, a scion of the Calvin Family."
Count Fos snorted coldly, a clear displeasure flickering in his eyes.
"Let him in," he said coldly, "I want to ask what performance he intends to put on by showing up just as the banquet ends."
Soon, the hall doors opened slowly, and all eyes turned to the entrance.
Louis and Yorn made a grand entrance.
Following them were two knights who had removed their armor, each carrying a large, slightly putrid sack over their shoulders.
Completely out of place at the luxurious, elegant banquet.
The nobility stared at this unusual scene, some curious, some shocked, and the previous laughter and conversation vanished without a trace.
Count Fos, seated at the head, saw this scene, his expression growing increasingly stormy.
Especially upon seeing those two bags, his heart filled with rage.
He stood up abruptly, a disdainful smile on his face, and rebuked, "Louis Calvin, you truly disappoint me.
Arriving late to such a banquet and showing such disdain, do you not understand the most basic noble etiquette?
What do you think the Count’s Mansion is?"
His gaze swept over the bags behind Louis, his expression growing more displeased, "Look at those bags; what’s that about? This is a noble banquet, not a street gathering!"
The banquet hall’s atmosphere became silent, and the nobility began whispering among themselves.
Some pioneer nobles from the South started to show schadenfreude smiles, as if they had long been waiting to see Louis make a fool of himself.
Zachary stood by, continuing to whisper provocatively, "Count Fos is right, a noble banquet is the face of the nobility, and everyone must adhere to the rules.
Do you think Count Fos is unworthy of someone as noble as you? Intentionally humiliating the Count?"
As soon as these words were spoken, the laughter among the surrounding nobles grew louder.
"Truly a person who doesn’t know the rules; does he really think he is someone significant?"
"Look at this scene; it barely resembles a noble banquet. How can Count Fos tolerate such an ill-mannered person here?"
"A scion of the Calvin Clan, yet so lacking in poise and upbringing, not even understanding the most basic respect, daring to disrupt Count Fos’s banquet in this manner."
Their voices were filled with disdain, as if already concluding that Louis was arrogant and disrespectful.
Zachary delighted in the misfortune, knowing his words had placed Louis in a predicament.
Count Fos heard these words, becoming increasingly incensed.
He glared at Louis coldly, seemingly decided not to extend any noble courtesy to him.
He would teach him a harsh lesson, make him understand who the master of Snow Peak County was.
The laughter among the surrounding nobles grew more unrestrained, and the atmosphere seemed to become even tenser.
Yet Louis remained calm as ever, seemingly unaffected.
He slightly bowed his head, performed a noble’s salute, and then politely spoke, "My lord Count, I indeed had an urgent matter, causing my delay. As for the bags, they contain gifts I specially prepared for you."
As he spoke, he gestured for the knights to gently lower the bags.
Zachary let out a cold laugh, "Oh? Gifts? That’s a bit unexpected.
But as the son of Duke Calvin, you shouldn’t bring such a crude gift, should you? Could it be some wild chickens or rabbits from your domain?
Why not show us directly, what’s so valuable inside, worth displaying here."
Each of Zachary’s words carried mockery, clearly intending to mire Louis further.
Count Fos, hearing Zachary’s words and already harboring great bias against Louis, had a glint of disdain in his eyes.
"Since it’s a gift, then let’s see it. We Northern nobles are not ones to make things difficult intentionally."
Count Fos ordered lowly, "Open them, let’s see what’s inside."
Louis subtly signaled the knights to open the bags.
The moment the bags were opened, several heads of Snow Swearers rolled out, blood dripping onto the floor.
The banquet hall immediately plunged into dead silence, with all the nobles frozen in place.
Count Fos stared blankly at the heads on the ground.
His chubby face distorted in fear and anger, the corners of his eyes’ fat trembling slightly.
He seemed to want to bellow something, but the sudden shock left him at a loss for words.
"What... what is this?!" he finally squeezed out, his voice filled with panic.