Chapter 185: 185 184 Speech by Mr. Andrews at this time

--Eternal rest grant unto Lugis, Lord of Vices.

Staring at the parchment spread out on the table, Richard's eyes narrowed unknowingly. The wrinkles and scars on his face deepened into distorted shadows. The wrinkles and scars on his face distorted and deepened into shadow.

"You've come a long way, that skinny brat.

His white beard rippled as if in admiration. His cheeks crumpled, forming a definite smile on his face.

I've grown up. The words were unmistakably sincere praise. It's not the kind of thing a petty person would use to belittle someone. It came out honestly, which was rare for the cunning Richard.

I was really impressed. That little boy who was no one is now making a name for himself in the world. He is making his mark on history. There is some regret, but there is nothing more wonderful than this.

As if in response to his voice, the man sitting opposite Richard moved his lips. He made a rather grand gesture.

"So you know this kid, huh? You're as broad-faced as ever, Richard!

The man was a giant.

The chair he was sitting on was more than big enough for a grown man to sit in, in fact it was almost too wide, but when this man sat in it, it made him look small.

Perhaps dragged down by his large body, the way he speaks, his every gesture, all of them are noisy and loud. Richard muttered in the back of his throat, "He doesn't look like an upper classman at all. He could have said it out loud if he wanted to, but he couldn't fix it anyway, so the result would be the same anyway.

The giant's name was Reumetz-Fomor. He is the current head of the Fomor family, a high-ranking noble family in the Kingdom of Garleist. And the lord Richard serves.

He is skilled in land management and political warfare, and still holds a firm position in the political sphere of the Kingdom of Garleist, where the intentions of the high nobility and the cathedral are intertwined.

Political battles require a keen sense of human emotions and a subtlety that does not disrupt the flow of time. Without either of these qualities, no matter how good your bargaining skills or how much knowledge you have, you will not be able to survive in the world of politics.

Although Reumetz-Fomor was a relative of the king, there is no doubt that he had the necessary background for politics. But the way he was behaving now, I don't think he was that kind of person, Richard cursed.

He picked up a bottle of wine from the table and poured it down his throat in one gulp. The wine tasted good on his tongue and had a deep aroma. It was one of the better wines he had tasted in a long time. As soon as he held up the empty container, the servant beside him poured in a new one.

"So what kind of man is this, Richard?

The one question that Leumetz asked made Richard's ears flutter. Richard's eyes narrowed as the smell of the new wine flooded his nostrils. The wrinkles on his face cast deeper and darker shadows. The wrinkles on his face cast deeper shadows, and Richard knew that Reumetz's gaze was watching him closely.

He was at a loss for words. What should he say, his brain told him.

Should he respond that he was valuable, or that he was a lowlife, or that there was no one better?

But this must be the answer his master was looking for, Richard thought as he opened his mouth and cleared his throat.

He's a funny guy. He's funny enough to keep you entertained. But he's always ready to roll.

With that, Richard wet his lips again with wine.

Richard is convinced that what he has just said is an undeniable fact. His former student, Lugis, must have expanded his horizons considerably. That in itself is wonderful. I admire him for choosing a less-than-serious path.

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But still, Richard had no intention of licking the ground with Lugis. He stroked his beard with his fingers, and the wrinkles deepened.

"I suppose that's why you called me, sir.

Richard's mouth moved as if that were the only reason he could think of.

In a way, that was a natural assumption. On the surface, Richard is nothing more than an adventurer. It was unusual for him to be invited to a nobleman's house, but the reputation of Richard was very unfavorable.

A vicious man, a serpent who lives on vices. Those are the words used to describe Richard. I don't think it's wrong. In fact, he thinks it's a fair assessment of himself.

And that's why Reumetz invited him to his house, knowing the danger. If his political opponents were to find out that he had invited an adventurer like himself, they might try to trip him up.

That's why I'm sure he didn't invite me here to drink. With a smile on his face, Richard looked straight into Reumetz's eyes.

He did not look like a vassal. This is not the way to treat a lord. But that was the way it had always been between the two of them. Reumetz forgave Richard's arrogance, and Richard did not shy away and mince his words in front of Reumetz. They both seemed to think that this level of distance was just right for them.

Leumetz leaned his arm on the armrest and opened his mouth.

"The cathedral people are out of control. There is no profit or loss in their minds. We're going to have to fight a stupid, stupid war, Richard.

The voice was a bark. It wasn't the exaggerated and somewhat bombastic voice of before. Rather, his voice was low and quiet. Yet, there was a hint of a roar in Reumetz's voice.

The air became heavy, as if he had drunk lead.

Richard lowered his voice considerably and said.

"Well, I suppose the days of maddening peace are over. It's wonderful. Long live the cathedral!　Long live the cathedral!

Richard chuckled, his teeth twisted as if he was making fun of something. But his eyes are not smiling. It's just that his gaze has grown sharper, as if he's looking into the distance.

The tension in the air lasted for a while. Neither Richard nor Reumetz spoke, nor did they utter a sound.

Only the servant, his fingertips trembling, continued to pour wine into their empty containers. A few glasses later, both Richard and Loimetz drank their wine.

Drunkenness is such a hard thing to turn, Richard muttered to himself.

Richard.

Roimets' low, stony words touched the air.

"Will you lead the men once more? Will you bring back the head of the hero of high treason?

A brief pause. A slight tremor shook the air, as if he had stifled the words that should have escaped. Richard silently placed both fists on the round table and hung his head.

"-if that is what my lord wishes.

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