Garius took a slow sip of his wine, his sharp eyes flickering with amusent.
Then, in a calm yet deliberate tone, he spoke.
"Hmm? Where is the halfling that vouched for her?"
Silence filled the air.
The small figure stiffened at his words.
She had been standing quietly in the background, keeping her distance even as Mrs. Julana rushed to embrace Zania.
But now—
Garius's gaze locked onto her.
"Wow…" he mused, swirling his wine lazily. "Is this how halflings behave in a foreign land?"
His tone was casual, but there was a weight behind his words.
A slow smirk tugged at the corner of his lips.
"How rude."
Hesbeirn, standing nearby, remained silent and observant.
The Armand guards didn't move.
Alf and Erinette remained unreadable.
The halfling girl tensed.
Then—she took a deep breath and stepped forward.
With a graceful, practiced motion, she bowed deeply toward Garius.
"I humbly beg your pardon for my lack of decorum, your lordship. My na is Rundea. I serve as a temporary representative of the Halfling Kingdom. My mission was to escort this Amazarak woman safely to the Armand region."
Her voice was steady, her tone asured and respectful.
Garius tilted his head slightly, observing her.
"Hmm…"
A simple, thoughtful hum.
Yet it carried undeniable weight.
The entire room was silent, waiting.
Then, in a slow, deliberate tone, he continued.
"Wow… is this how halflings show respect?"
Rundea's breath hitched.
"I thought halflings were neutral toward everyone. If I'm not mistaken, this isn't how they show respect."
The mont those words left his lips—
The air changed.
A heavy, invisible force pressed down on the entire room.
Garius activated his aura.
The temperature dropped. The surrounding space thickened—as if the very air had turned to lead.
Rundea's body tensed.
Mrs. Julana clutched Zania tighter, feeling her limbs grow heavier.
Even the Armand guards, despite their extensive training, felt the weight of their lord's presence.
Hesbeirn's fingers twitched, though his expression remained calm.
Alf and Erinette?
Completely unfazed.
They had stood in this presence before.
They had survived it.
But for Rundea—
It felt as if she had stepped into the domain of a predator.
This wasn't just pressure.
This was power.
Inside Rundea's mind, alarms were blaring.
Crap.
Crap. Crap. Crap.
I ssed up!
Why—why didn't I greet the ruler of the land first?!
That was basic diplomatic etiquette!
Stupid! Stupid! Stupid!
Now, she had disrespected Count Garius, the most dangerous noble in the human kingdom.
And now he's using his aura?!
Her entire body felt like it was sinking, as if an invisible force was pushing her down.
She had heard rumors about the Count of Armand. Stories whispered in political circles about how he was always ten steps ahead of everyone.
How he played weak only to strike when people least expected it.
How he never let disrespect slide.
And now—
She had walked straight into a death zone.
Without hesitation, Rundea dropped to her knees.
Her small fra trembled slightly, but her voice remained as steady as she could manage.
"I deeply apologize for my earlier rudeness, Your Lordship."
For a brief mont, silence reigned.
Garius smiled.
And just like that—
The crushing pressure vanished.
The suffocating weight lifted as if it had never been there.
The air returned to normal, and those in the hall subtly relaxed.
But before Rundea could fully regain her breath—
Garius took another sip of his wine, his eyes gleaming.
"Now… tell ."
His voice was smooth and casual—too casual.
"Is Gurdan still alive?"
The mont she heard that na—
Rundea's blood ran cold.
Her breath hitched, and her eyes widened.
Gurdan.
The King of the Halflings.
A ruler whose na rarely left the Halfling Kingdom, unknown to most outsiders.
And yet—
A noble from a human kingdom had just spoken it.
Casually. Effortlessly.
Like he was speaking of an old friend.
Her fingers clenched against the floor.
Just… who was this man?
Rundea swallowed hard.
There was no point in hesitating.
With renewed composure, she bowed her head slightly and spoke respectfully.
"Yes, our king is still alive and well, your lordship."
She didn't ask how he knew.
She didn't dare.
Because—this man wasn't normal.
In all the information she had gathered over the years, one thing stood out about Count Garius De Armand:
He was connected.
Not just to human nobles.
Not just to rchants or warlords.
But to kings.
Rundea's thoughts raced.
This man—this ruler of a single noble house in a human kingdom—
Was on good terms with the Elven Queen.
Had shared drinks with the Beastkin King.
Had negotiated with the Demon King.
Had the respect of the Dwarven Chieftain.
Had ties to the Dragonkin King.
And now—he casually spoke of the Halfling King, Gurdan, as if they were old acquaintances.
Rundea's hands tightened into small fists on her lap.
Just… what kind of man was he?
And why was he—who sat in the heart of a human kingdom—so deeply connected to the powers of the world?
Garius took another sip of his wine, his eyes calm yet unreadable.
Then, he smirked.
"Good to hear."
A shiver ran down Rundea's spine.
Garius set down his wine glass, his eyes focusing on the small halfling before him.
"Now… Rundea, was it?"
Rundea straightened imdiately. "Y-Yes, your lordship."
Without another word, Garius raised his hand slightly—a simple signal.
Alf, who had been standing silently beside him, stepped forward instantly.
With fluid precision, he pulled out a sealed envelope from his coat and extended it toward Rundea.
"Take this."
Rundea hesitated for a mont before carefully accepting the invitation.
Her eyes flickered over the seal—it bore the Armand family crest, perfectly imprinted in wax.
"Hand this official invitation to your king."
Garius's voice was calm and casual, yet it carried a sense of authority.
Rundea's hands trembled slightly.
"B-But—"
Her words faltered as Garius's eyes narrowed.
"Hmm?"
His voice was dangerously smooth.
"Aren't you the temporary representative?"
A cold sweat ford at the back of her neck.
No—this wasn't just a question.
He was testing her.
Swallowing hard, she replied, "I am rely a representative for this mission, your lordship. Master Biluk, Chancellor of Halfling Affairs, assigned ."
Garius raised an eyebrow.
"Oho~ Hear that, Alf?"
A smirk curled his lips.
"Biluk is still alive… and has risen in rank."
Alf remained expressionless, but there was a flicker of acknowledgnt in his eyes.
"It would seem so, your lordship."
Rundea's heart pounded.
Again—this noble spoke of powerful figures in her holand as if they were old acquaintances.
Who was he to know so much?
Garius leaned back slightly, watching Rundea with calm amusent as she gripped the sealed invitation.
Then, with a tone that left no room for refusal, he said, "Then hand this invitation to Biluk."
Rundea gulped but nodded quickly. "I will ensure it reaches him."
She felt the weight of his words.
This was not just a simple letter.
Then—Garius turned slightly to his right.
"And according to our border base…" His gaze flicked to Alf. "This girl brought a wyvern, correct?"
Alf nodded, his voice smooth and composed. "Yes, your lordship."
Garius's eyes glowed faintly as he focused back on Rundea.
"Good." He tapped his fingers on the armrest of his chair. "This invitation is for an upcoming eting—a gathering of the rulers of various kingdoms. It will be held in the Beastkin Kingdom."
Rundea's breath hitched.
A eting of rulers? In the Beastkin Kingdom?
Her mind raced.
What kind of eting could require the presence of so many kings?
Before she could ask, Garius smirked. "It is of great importance. Make sure this reaches your king personally."
Rundea bowed deeply. "Understood, your lordship."
But inside, her thoughts were spiraling.
Sothing significant was happening.
And this noble—this terrifyingly well-inford man—was at the center of it all.
( End of Chapter )
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