Overgeared: Saharan Successor

Chapter 60: Hating Count Loran?

As Odin and Kebab made their way through the cobbled streets of Fullbaz, the sight of the Marquis's castle loomed closer with each step, its towers stretching toward the sky. 

The castle was more fortress than a palace, its stone walls bearing signs of the passage of time.

Villagers and commoners along the way paused to glimpse the imposing Leviathan Guildmaster who downed the Armor of Despair, a trademark of his status as Black Knight. Since the penalties were lessened on him with the increased levels, he was no longer slowed down.

Some murmured in awe, and others quickly averted their gaze because of the mix of auras, from the dignifying, regal red aura mixing around with the oppressing, abyssal aura of the Heavy Armor, cautious not to attract unwanted attention from the Marquis's knights.

After crossing the drawbridge, Odin and Kebab were led through an arched gate into the grand yet modestly decorated inner courtyard. 

'Hmm, this is not uncommon for territories contested by the Empire to struggle financially. Still, for a Marquis to not display his wealth tells a lot about his character.'

'This will be an interesting encounter for sure.'

Along the way, Odin was doing his reconnaissance job, point by point, before facing the high noble of the Saharan Empire who wanted to meet him. 

Inside, Odin noticed the difference immediately. There were no lavish statues or fountains adorned the grounds. The furnishings were practical, with touches of elegance that spoke more to the Marquis's disciplined taste than any obsession with status. 

It was a place of quiet dignity, one built for purpose rather than showing off wealth.

When they entered the great hall, a few noble guests gathered there and paused their hushed conversations, their eyes lingering on Odin and Kebab as they were led further into the chamber. 

Unlike the nobles of the capital, these courtiers wore simpler attire, though a few adorned themselves with symbols denoting their families' statuses and titles. Some nodded respectfully. Others watched curiously, their expressions a blend of interest and reserved admiration.

The Marquis, Charles von Fullbaz, awaited them at the hall's center. 

He was a man in his early fifties, with sandy-blonde hair showing traces of silver and a neatly trimmed, short mustache that complemented his strong, angular face. His blue eyes carried a steady, discerning gaze that seemed to take in every detail. 

Rather than lavish attire, he wore a finely tailored but unadorned navy coat and a dark leather belt. His clothes were clean and well-fitted, exuding a quiet authority. Behind him stood his family, two children, and wife, though the contrast between them was striking.

His son, a young man of perhaps sixteen, mirrored his father's modest attire and serious demeanor. He had the same sandy hair and keen blue eyes as his father, though a softer look hinted that he was still learning the weight of his responsibilities. 

His younger sister, around ten, wore a simple, pale blue dress and a friendly smile, seemingly unaffected by the noble air around her. She gave Odin a shy but curious glance, her innocence brightening the otherwise stern atmosphere of the hall.

However, it was the Marchioness who immediately caught the eye. Draped in a flowing, crimson gown adorned with precious stones, her presence exuded opulence, starkly contrasting the reserved demeanor of her husband and children. 

Her dark hair was styled in elaborate waves, framing her fair face and glinting with jewels carefully woven. Her eyes, sharp and calculating, scanned the room with the air of someone accustomed to being the center of attention. She was a striking beauty, poised in a way that drew attention from all present.

'I can't tell… She might be from a Central-region noble House, maybe from one of the Counts?'

'Still, irrelevant to this meeting.'

'Meanwhile, the Marquis… I heard that he was a people's man, going to great lengths to ensure that his servants wouldn't have an impoverished life even though they were in a poorer region of the Empire.'

Marquis Charles von Fullbaz inclined his head respectfully as Odin approached, gesturing for him to come forward. His voice, when he spoke, was steady and calm.

"Lord Odin, Guildmaster of Leviathan," he greeted with a faint smile. "Your reputation precedes you. Fullbaz is honored to welcome a man of your distinction."

Odin dipped his head, his gaze meeting the Marquis with equal respect. "The honor is mine, Marquis Fullbaz. I am grateful for your invitation, though I admit my guildmate only hinted at the purpose of our meeting."

The Marquis's smile widened slightly, his tone direct but with a hint of warmth. "I believe you'll find our discussion worth the journey. Though my acquaintance with Sir Kebab here was brief, he impressed upon me with his feats of slaying the Gryphons terrorizing the people of my domain."

"I also heard that the Leviathans are more than capable of handling the difficult situation with this season's Monster Wave without impovering the region and me being indebted to the neighboring Lords."

Kebab nodded with a grin, though he respectfully remained quiet as the Marquis continued.

"We've heard whispers of the gathering threat to our lands," he went on, his gaze darkening. "My sources indicate that this may be the hand of the Yatan Church who conducted their dark demonic magicks . We're expecting an appearance from something far more… sinister. I fear they are planning to summon an Archdemon to destroy the World."

"I hoped you might offer us a more tactical approach at stopping this threat."

Odin inclined his head, his armored gauntlet resting lightly on the pommel of his sword. His deep voice carried easily across the hall. 

"The Yatan Church thrives on chaos and fear, and their methods are always insidious. If an Archdemon is their aim, then it is not just your lands at stake, however, summoning one would take a Summoning Ritual that would be too obvious."

"Rest assured, Marquis, Leviathan will not stand idly by while this threat unfolds."

The Marquis nodded appreciatively. "Sir Odin, I trust that your expertise will guide us through these dark times."

Odin's expression remained composed, though his tone carried a firm edge. "It will be fine, Marquis, but we should discuss the remuneration in more depth. The Leviathan Guild, while not as costly as the Adventuring Guild or the Mage Towers, offers professional services that come with certain expectations." His words were measured, the balance of diplomacy and pragmatism unmistakable.

"Naturally. Fullbaz understands the value of expertise, and I assure you, our arrangement will reflect your efforts."

Odin's expression shifted subtly, his gaze growing more focused. "You mentioned a reason for this meeting, something that might interest me—an enemy of mine, if I understood my guildmate correctly." His deep voice resonated across the hall, quieting even the faintest murmurs among the gathered nobles.

The Marquis's expression briefly faltered, a flicker of hesitation crossing his face before he quickly composed himself. A practiced smile spread across his lips, though his eyes remained guarded. 

"Ah, yes. That is indeed a matter I wished to discuss. But first, you must allow me to extend Fullbaz's hospitality. I've arranged a banquet in your honor, to recognize both your contributions to our defense and the formidable reputation of the Leviathan Guild."

Odin tilted his head slightly, his crimson eyes narrowing just enough to suggest he wasn't entirely convinced by the Marquis's attempt at diversion. "Your generosity is appreciated, Marquis, though I suspect you're not one to waste words or effort without purpose."

The Marquis chuckled, the sound dry yet warm, as he gestured toward the great hall with an open hand. "Perhaps, Lord Odin. But some matters are best discussed over finer wine and better company. Come, let us first celebrate your arrival and the alliance that will ensure our lands endure."

With that, the Marquis stepped aside, allowing Odin and Kebab to follow as he led the way to the banquet chamber.

***

The banquet was modest by imperial standards but far from lacking. Long tables were adorned with carefully prepared dishes, and the hall buzzed with quiet conversation. 

The nobles in attendance were well-mannered, offering respectful nods to Odin as he passed. 

Odin remained sharp, slightly annoyed by those nobles who were so relaxed and in a celebratory mood, as if they weren't affected by the Monster Wave, exchanging pleasantries while observing the room with the same methodical care he had shown while traversing the streets. 

Standing out in his imposing black armor, Odin moved through the room with quiet authority. His crimson eyes swept over the gathered nobles, noting their fine but modest attire and their measured glances toward him. Despite their attempts to appear indifferent, there was no hiding their curiosity or the faint tension his presence seemed to elicit.

Among them, the Marchioness stood out like a jewel in a muted sea. She exuded confidence and elegance in her crimson gown adorned with glittering stones. Her dark eyes, sharp and calculating, locked onto Odin as she approached with a practiced grace, a warm smile on her lips.

"Lord Odin," she greeted, her voice honeyed and smooth, "it is an honor to meet the man who has captivated not only my husband's knights but also the imagination of our people."

Odin inclined his head slightly, his expression polite but distant. "The honor is mine, Marchioness. Your hospitality speaks highly of the Marquis's house."

Her smile widened, and she gestured for him to walk with her along the edge of the hall. "Please, call me Elira."

Odin allowed a faint smile, though his tone remained guarded. "As you wish, Lady Elira. Though I suspect you've sought me out for more than casual conversation."

Elira chuckled, a light, melodic sound. "Perceptive as they say. I must admit, the stories about you are… intriguing. Some of them paint you as a savior, others as a mercenary with a heart of gold. And then there are those tales that liken you to royalty or incarnation of the Red Emperor. I wonder, which are true?"

'Ohh my, she's on the money. Quite the perceptive woman if she could gather and compile all of the nonsense the peasants and commoners are spreading nowadays.'

'Let's not give her any leads. It would overcomplicate my plans if the NPC nobles gather evidence that I'm the Saharan Successor.'

Odin arched a brow, his voice even. "Royalty? That's a new one. I assure you, Lady Elira, I'm far from such lofty heights. I'm just a normal person summoned by the Goddess of Light to bring down the darkness of the Yatan Church."

She tilted her head, her gaze lingering on him with an almost flirtatious intensity. "Oh, but you carry yourself with a presence, Lord Odin. When you entered the hall, it felt as if the Emperor himself had graced us. Perhaps it's your aura—regal, commanding. It's no wonder even the knights are in awe."

Odin chuckled softly, though there was no warmth in his tone. "A compliment, no doubt, though I suspect my reputation has been exaggerated. The peasants I've aided are generous storytellers."

Elira leaned in slightly, her voice dropping to a more conspiratorial tone. "Perhaps. But it isn't only the commoners who speak of you. My husband's knights are not ones to embellish, yet they spoke of your battles with a fervor I've rarely heard. And the Leviathan Guild… such a curious entity. News about the Death Knight arriving in Fullbaz put dread in most of the weak minded courtiers."

"To rise to such power without noble lineage… How do you manage it?"

Odin's smile was faint but laced with meaning. "A simple matter of being truthful with my allies, and loyal to the Lords I offer my services. Oh, and not backstabbing those I consider friends, this also helps raising for us commoners."

Elira's eyes sparkled with interest, her smile taking on a playful edge. "Spoken like a true leader. It's no wonder the people compare you to the Empire's elite. You've intrigued me, Lord Odin. Tell me, are all the stories true? Did you really fend off an entire Monster Wave while barely breaking a sweat?"

Odin let out a low chuckle, his gaze steady on hers. "Barely breaking a sweat? That sounds more like a bard's tale than a knight's report. But yes, my guild and I have quelled more than one wave. It's part of the duty we've taken upon ourselves."

Elira's gaze lingered on him, her smile softening slightly. "You're an enigma, Lord Odin. A man of power without arrogance, of strength without cruelty. I must admit, it's… refreshing."

[ 'Elira von Averill' favorability towards you has increased by 5 points, and your relationship has reached 'Friendly' (25/100).]

Odin inclined his head. "And you, Lady Elira, are not what I expected from the Central Region's nobility."

Of course, he searched online for information about the Marchioness because it enhanced his image and made him favorable in the eyes of the arrogant nobles. However, from first impression, this mature woman showed that apart from the beautiful exterior she was presenting, she wasn't foolish in researching him before meeting him.

Her eyes flickered with amusement. "Ah, so you do know who I am. My father is Count Averill, though it seems my reputation will always be under his shadow."

[ 'Elira von Averill' favorability towards you has increased by 3 points, and your relationship has reached 'Friendly' (28/100).]

Odin's smile was faint but knowing. "Your lineage is well-regarded. The Counts of Averill are known for their strategic minds and their influence in court."

She laughed softly, brushing a hand through her elaborately styled hair. "Strategic minds and influence, yes, but I assure you, I am far more interesting than my father's political machinations."

Odin offered a faint, knowing smile. "That is without doubt, Lady Elira. A woman of your caliber can be nothing but capable." His words were calm and confident, with just enough admiration to play into her ego without overstepping.

Elira's cheeks flushed slightly, though she maintained her composure, her smile widening. "You flatter me, Lord Odin. Perhaps there is truth to the tales of your charisma after all."

[ 'Elira von Averill' favorability towards you has increased by 2 points, and your relationship has reached 'Friendly' (30/100).]

Odin chuckled softly, his crimson eyes locking with hers for a moment. The system window of her affinity points rose, pleasing him in addition. 

He could sense her intrigue growing, and the calculated part of his mind noted the opportunity to deepen their rapport. A few more well-placed words and the Marchioness could prove a valuable ally—or at least a useful source of information.

'She seems to want more than just a chat. Let's give her some service in exchange for affinity points.'

Just as he was planning to "farm affinity points" with the Marchioness, charming her with his toxic combination of high Charm, Dignity, Persuasion, and Diplomacy stats, his plans were cut short.

The conversation was interrupted as the Marquis approached, his strides purposeful and his expression polite but firm. His blue eyes flicked briefly to his wife, a subtle acknowledgment that spoke volumes about his understanding of her personality. "Elira, forgive me for interrupting, but I must borrow Lord Odin. There are others eager to meet him."

'Hmm, he sounds a bit of a simp, lowering himself for his wife? So she's the rooster in this family. Noted.'

Elira sighed theatrically, a glimmer of amusement in her eyes. "Of course, dear husband. Always the dutiful host." She turned back to Odin, her smile softening. "Lord Odin, it seems our conversation must wait for another time. But do not think you've escaped my curiosity just yet."

"I look forward to our next discussion, Lady Elira. Until then."

With that, the Marquis gestured for Odin to follow him, his tone shifting to professional courtesy as they moved toward a cluster of nobles waiting at the far end of the hall. "I trust my wife has not overwhelmed you with her questions, Lord Odin. As I'm sure you've noticed, she has a talent for drawing out stories."

Odin's lips curled into a faint smirk. "Not at all, Marquis. Lady Elira is as engaging as she is astute. I imagine that quality serves your house well."

The Marquis chuckled, a glimmer of pride crossing his features. "Indeed, it does. It seems you've made quite the impression already. Elira is a hard to please woman."

'I doubt. I think I could've maxed her affinity by tonight if there is no interruption and she drinks to open up.'

***

The Marquis led Odin to his private office, a study lined with well-worn tomes and maps of the region. The faint smell of parchment and ink filled the air, and the flickering light of a single lamp cast long shadows across the room.

The Marquis gestured for Odin to sit, pouring two glasses of deep red wine before settling into his chair. His demeanor shifted slightly, his posture more relaxed but his eyes sharper, as though the professional mask he wore in public had been set aside.

"Now," the Marquis began, placing his glass down and steepling his fingers, "we can speak freely."

Odin leaned forward slightly, his curiosity evident. "I take it this is the part where you tell me about the enemy you hinted at."

The Marquis nodded slowly, a faint sigh escaping him. "Indeed. Since the arrival of you, the 'Chosen Ones' I had my spies collect information on you, mainly on those who showed the most potential, and could be recruited. I can say that I've heard about your exploits inside Titan, on the Subjugation Mission over the Lizardfolk, Orcs and Trolls."

"Some of you 'Chosen One' have a scary potential that makes us nobles of the Empire, wary that you'll steal everything that we hold dear, our titles, families, women, children, wealth, our everything. But, unlike them, I'm one who looks at you strangers as potential partners, someone who can enter my retinue and work with me, maybe not as a servant, but as allies."

Odin kept quiet, observing the Marquis pour him a glass of the aromatic liquor, its mana-infused scent permeating the air. The faint blue shimmer within the crimson liquid hinted at its magical properties. 

[This one looks almost like Nocturna's Requiem!]

'Is that so? Maybe they managed to break into your underground safebox.'

Odin accepted the glass, swirling it lightly before taking a sip.

The drink was smooth yet potent, and as it flowed down his throat, he felt a faint surge of energy. 

It was unlike anything he had tasted before. While initially, he thought it would be similar to a bitter-tasting health or mana potion, this one was savory and rich in taste. 

He allowed a small smile to escape, partly from the unique flavor and partly from the pleasant surprise of its effect.

[ You have consumed 'Elren's Arcane Vintage' and permanently gained (500 MP).]

"The danger comes from your 'Curse of Undying', the protection warded on you by the Goddess herself. While we might have the saintly power of 'Resurrection' that only a handful of individuals in our World can wield, you people are fearful of death."

"I'm sure you're not here to hear me rant, about how frustrating administrating the realm has become because of you 'Chosen Ones' who caused chaos and havoc, bringing along confusion."

Odin continued sipping at the liquor, his expression neutral but attentive, as the Marquis explained his intentions.

"The reason I asked Sir Kebab to deliver my invitation was because apart from wanting to acquire the services of the Leviathan Guild in subjugating the Gryphon King that is a constant threat to my territory since I was a youngster, I also want to buy your services in slaughtering all the Goblins in the Wyrnwoods since I intend of colonizing that region to expand on my power."

"But the utmost I want from you is to rid me of the Yatan Church problem. This Monster Wave was caused by them without a doubt."

"I understand your problems," Odin began, his voice calm but laced with authority. "Slaying the Goblins from the Wyrnwoods isn't a difficult task. The Gryphon King, however, will be a small challenge, though not insurmountable. I'll need to move my forces into Fullbaz to prepare for this undertaking. As for the Yatan Church…" 

He paused briefly, his crimson eyes narrowing. "That will be trickier. They're like rats, always hiding, difficult to root out completely. It will require more than brute force to deal with them effectively."

The Marquis nodded, a flicker of relief crossing his face. "I appreciate your candor, Lord Odin. Few would speak so plainly of their plans in front of me."

Odin placed his glass on the desk and leaned forward, his voice on a sharper edge. "But before we negotiate any price, I want you to return to the main reason I'm here. Information about my enemy."

The Marquis sighed, placing his glass down and steepling his fingers. "Ah, my apologies. I got caught up in my grievances. As I was saying, the reward for ridding me of these threats goes beyond gold. I will personally vouch for your promotion to Red Knight."

"Additionally, I'll share some… unsavory information about Loran Veylon, information that may give you an edge against that slippery snake."

Odin's interest was visibly piqued, his gaze sharpening. "Dirt on Count Loran Veylon, you say? That would indeed be welcome news."

The Marquis smirked slightly, a flicker of satisfaction crossing his face. "I see I have your attention now."

Odin took a moment to process the offer, leaning back in his chair. "Are you hating Count Loran too?"

"Who wouldn't despise that snake?" the Marquis replied, his tone laced with frustration. "It's because of him and those Imperialists that we regional lords receive no support from the Crown."

"When situations like this Monster Wave arise, we should have Knightly Orders under the Emperor himself to ease our burden. Instead, we're left to fend for ourselves, our resources stretched thin."

Odin allowed a faint chuckle, lifting his glass in a mock toast. "For some reason, I find myself liking you, Marquis. Perhaps it's the age-old adage, 'The enemy of my enemy is my friend.' Or maybe it's this Arcane Vintage, either way, you've intrigued me."

After considering the pros and cons, Odin thought about the implications of allying with the Marquis.

'It's not a bad deal for me. I'm also half-way into the Goblins, Umar is slaughtering the Gryphons and is preparing for the Gryphon King, with Xoroth, Ellyssaria and Mi-Jung, along with the newbies we could put a good fight against the Event Boss.'

'As for the Yatan Church guy scheming behind the scenes, Malfurion might fish him out with his quest.'

'However, the biggest pro is dirt on that fucking rat. Once I get to Titan, I will drag his reputation to the ground. It will not take long before I can execute him even though he's an level 245 Purple-named NPC.'

"I believe we have an understanding, Marquis," Odin finally said, his voice calm but firm. "Your proposal aligns with the goals of the Leviathan Guild, and I see value in working with someone who understands that we are not the enemy. Let us formalize this arrangement."

The Marquis's lips curved into a pleased smile. "I knew you'd see reason, Lord Odin. Very well, we shall draft a contract. Rest assured, I am a man of my word." He extended his hand, and Odin clasped it firmly, sealing the deal with a brief shake.

A faint chime echoed in Odin's mind as if on cue, followed by the familiar sensation of a system notification.

[ 'Charles von Fullbaz's favorability towards you has increased by 15 points, and your relationship has reached 'Friendly' (35/100).]

The Marquis picked up his glass, raising it in a toast where Odin returned the gesture in kind, his crimson eyes gleaming faintly as the flickering lamplight reflected off his glass. 

"To alliances, and the promise of opportunities yet to come."

Their glasses clinked, the resonant sound cutting through the quiet study. Odin took another sip of the mana-rich liquor, savoring its smooth texture, slightly disappointed that he couldn't milk the mana gained from drinking this liquor. 

[ 'Leviathan Guild' has allied with Marquis Fullbaz. Reputation: Friendly]