Chapter 312: Unexpected Conflict

Generally speaking, only upon attaining the rank of a Silver Moon Knight could one briefly suspend themselves in midair, possessing a certain measure of flight.

Yet for wind magi, once they ascended to the rank of a Seventh-Tier Archmage, they could soar freely through the heavens by virtue of the Wings of Wind spell.

Though Romon could ride the winds with Carlos,

it was, in the end, reliance on an external force, which carried inherent limitations under certain circumstances, far less spontaneous than harboring the power of flight within oneself.

Moreover, despite being an auxiliary spell, the Wings of Wind could secure aerial supremacy for one's side in battle, offering no small amount of advantages.

Thus, after a period of searching, Romon departed the library bearing the scrolls of "Searing Ray" and "Wings of Wind."

Listening to the knight's report, Bruno learned that Romon had selected a secret technique and a grimoire, prompting him to shake his head with a soft chuckle.

"The lad is but a Silver Knight, yet he has already made off with a secret technique meant only for Meteor-level cultivation."

Brawl smiled as well. "Secret techniques are priceless treasures in the outside world, beyond the reach of coin. Were I in his place, I expect I would have made the same choice."

"Choosing not what suits the present, but only what is most exorbitant—I can fathom that."

Bruno, however, could not help but wonder, "But tell me, for what purpose did he select this seventh-tier spell?"

That Romon could become a Silver Knight at the tender age of eighteen meant, in their eyes, that he had undoubtedly poured the vast majority of his days into the discipline of a professional knight.

A man's time is finite; the more one invests in the path of the knight, the less remains for the way of the magus.

Even if Romon were a magus, his rank could not possibly be very high.

According to the chronicles, Seventh-Tier Archmagi generally fell within the span of sixty to ninety years of age; Romon was but eighteen, and choosing the Wings of Wind meant he might well wait decades before ever invoking it.

In Bruno's view, Romon's choice of this grimoire was a complete squandering of an opportunity; he would have fared better choosing a sixth-tier battle technique.

"Too young, after all, and bound to aim too high. Possessing what cannot be used holds no value whatsoever. And if the day truly comes when he becomes an Archmage, would he ever want for a grimoire?"

Bruno shook his head; he merely offered the lament, yet no thought arose within him to make Romon choose anew.

"How fares the interrogation of the White Whale Pirates over at Horn Bay?" he inquired instead.

Arsenio, the Minister of State, replied, "At present, the pirates have confessed all they ought to confess. As for the rest—such as who truly pulls the strings behind this assassination—I doubt they could speak of it even if we beat them to death."

At this, he added an afterthought, "Oh, correct, Your Majesty. There is a captain named Vic among the pirates whom Romon has reportedly taken into his own service. I wonder if you approve of this matter?"

"These pirates are Romon's captives, and by right, they should be his slaves. He holds the authority to dispose of them as he sees fit."

"I understand."

Arsenio nodded. "It so happens that for this campaign against the White Whale Pirates, this captain named Vic can serve as a guide, which simplifies matters considerably."

"Very well. Arrange the men, and once Princess Blanche's birthday banquet concludes, let Romon lead the vanguard to root out the stronghold of the White Whale Pirates."

The Angular Citadel.

Viscount Victorino read the missive sent by Joly from Horn Bay, his countenance growing darker by the moment.

"Fleming!"

He spat the surname with venom, clearly convinced that this maritime incident was the work of the Earl of the Shrieking Island lurking in the shadows.

Though the primary target of this assassination was Romon, he harbored not the slightest doubt that his eldest son, Rhys, was also upon the enemy's death list.

The destruction of the Dennis III was a trifling matter, but for the son upon whom he had pinned his highest hopes to perish at sea was something Victorino could never accept under any circumstances.

"Rucci, take the First and Third Knight Squads aboard the Dennis I and II immediately to Horn Bay. Once Princess Blanche's birthday concludes, escort both Rhys and Romon back."

He wished to court no peril upon the return journey.

"Furthermore, pass word to Rhys on my behalf. Regarding his service to Romon in the North Crow Territory, he may judge for himself. Whichever path he chooses, I shall support him; the Romon of today is indeed a man worth cultivating relations with."

At this point, he added a further instruction, "However, you must also tell Rhys that the one the Dennis family follows shall only ever be the master of the Dark Mountain Territory. As the eldest son of the Dennis family, he may serve under Romon for a time, but he cannot pledge his ultimate fealty to him."

For the heir of a house to alter the liege lord he followed would damage the renown of the Dennis family if word got out, and Victorino would have none of it.

"As you command, my Lord!"

Rucci, the knight captain of Angular City, bowed in obedience.

Victorino's brow remained tightly knit.

Following the assassination at sea, he felt an ever-deepening necessity to construct a harbor in the North Crow Territory.

Under the mediation of Earl Jesus, the Fleming family had only just signed a peace accord with Angular City, yet in the blink of an eye, they had struck at his son. It was glaringly obvious that the enmity between the houses of Dennis and Fleming left no room for reconciliation.

A peace accord, in the eyes of the adversary, was perhaps a mere bauble to be disregarded or torn asunder at any whim.

Once the harbor of the North Crow Territory was complete, should a conflict arise with the Fleming family in the future, the presence of two ports would ensure the Dennis family could not be blockaded, but would instead possess the opportunity to encircle the enemy.

On the other hand, Romon, having selected his books, was in no haste to return and read them; after all, his current strength was insufficient, leaving him unqualified to learn them yet.

Thus, under the guidance of Blanche, the two wandered for leisure within the Golden Feather Palace.

This stroll consumed the entire afternoon, and only when the sky grew late did Romon escort Blanche back to the Moon Shadow Palace. After a lingering farewell, Romon walked straight toward his own quarters.

Yet as he drew near the courtyard, he was drawn by a crowd gathered upon the road ahead.

Faintly, he could hear the mocking laughter of the throng, and amidst the jeers, the voices of Tom and David seemed intertwined.

"What is happening?"

Romon's brow furrowed as he quickened his pace forward.

He knew none of these nobles, let alone Tom and David, who hailed from commoner stock.

Yet before he had taken many steps, a harsh shout echoed from the front.

"Be gone!"

Following this, two dull thuds resounded as Tom and David were kicked violently, flying seven or eight meters away.

"Moss, Harman, go teach these two insolent fools a proper lesson. Let them learn what manner of attitude they ought to possess when facing nobility!"

"Understood!"

Two booming voices answered, and two towering knights detached themselves from the crowd, charging toward Tom and David, who lay upon the ground, struggling to rise.

Romon's countenance darkened.

With his understanding of his two attendants, Tom and David would absolutely never offend other nobles lightly, especially since Romon had laid strict injunctions upon them when he departed that morning.

"Let us see who dares!"

He gave a cold snort, his entire form dissolving into an afterimage as he materialized before Tom and David.

The two knights faltered for an instant upon seeing someone bar their path, yet their momentum did not cease; instead, they lunged toward Romon.

"Foolhardy!"

The Flame Stream Sword leaped from its scabbard, sweeping out in a horizontal arc.

Battle aura transformed into a fierce gale, simultaneously carrying a dozen wind blades that swept toward the pair—this was none other than the Bronze-tier wind-attributed battle technique, the Storm Blade.

The two charging men scrambled to defend, yet they were nonetheless slashed by the wind blades, collapsing onto the ground in agonizing wails as blood splattered the earth.

"My Lord!"

Tom and David cried out in pleasant surprise.

Romon cast a backward glance at the two before turning his gaze toward the crowd ahead.

"To wantonly slaughter a noble's attendant knights within the Golden Feather Palace—have you well considered what the consequences shall be?"