Chapter 394 - 271: Westwood Laine Castle Gathering (2)

Chapter 394: Chapter 271: Westwood Laine Castle Gathering (2)

Fass nodded slightly, gesturing for him to continue.

"I can use my family’s remaining connections to tie up the Imperial Legions in Baltahan, preventing them from mobilizing easily.

At the same time, I can persuade all the neutral nobles in that region to pledge their allegiance to Count Henry."

The Count’s tone was suffused with a confidence, as if he could already see how things would unfold. Fass raised an eyebrow. ’I didn’t expect this Count to have such capabilities. It seems I can’t underestimate any noble who hasn’t fled into exile...’

He had thought the only help the man could offer was to do his utmost to pin down the Imperial Legions of Makabe and Baltahan, preventing them from getting involved when Henry went to war.

Now that Fass was aware of Henry’s true strength, he knew that two Imperial Legions wouldn’t pose a significant threat to Henry, but they would still create unnecessary pressure.

At this point, some might ask: wouldn’t the Imperial Legions obey the emperor’s command and attack Henry?

The answer is, of course they would! But you see, this is a war between Henry, Count Akakarat, and Autongard City. It isn’t a war between "the Emperor and Henry."

The Caladia Empire was just that absurd. For many things, there were clearly better solutions, but they were made exceptionally sluggish by a host of strange, rigid rules.

And it was precisely this peculiar sluggishness that had given Henry the opportunity to grow so rapidly to his current state.

"I will take out my entire family fortune, raise an army, purchase grain, and dispatch troops to aid in the war."

Fass was momentarily stunned before his expression shifted to one of realization. The Count’s demands were bound to be high, but he hadn’t expected the man to be so direct.

"What are your terms?" Fass asked calmly.

The more one invested, the more one expected in return.

The Count’s gaze sharpened. He looked directly at Fass and said, enunciating each word, "I want only Baltahan!"

I want only Baltahan!

The study fell silent, with only the occasional sound of wind from outside the window. Fass was quiet for a moment; he now understood everything.

"Baltahan," Fass said softly. "The land that once belonged to your family, now a domain under the emperor’s direct control."

"I understand what you’re thinking. What down-on-their-luck, old-blood noble doesn’t dream of restoring their ancestors’ glory?"

It was a classic case of the mantis stalking the cicada, unaware of the oriole behind it. Back then, the nobles had slaughtered one another on the battlefield and waged price wars in trade, ultimately leading to their mutual destruction and allowing the royal family to swoop in and reap all the benefits.

A complex emotion flickered in the Count’s eyes, but they soon returned to their usual calm.

He nodded and said, "As long as Count Henry can give me a forty percent chance of success, I’m willing to risk it all. For the future of my family, for the restoration of our glory, I have no other choice."

Indeed, no one could remain indifferent when faced with the chance to restore their ancestral glory.

Fass was silent for a moment, then said slowly, "Count Henry’s plan... does indeed have a greater than forty percent chance of succeeding.

Moreover, he needs not only your family, but more forces willing to fight for glory."

The Count couldn’t help but let out a laugh. That last part was a bit of nonsense.

The Count smiled slightly, his eyes filled with determination. "I believe in Count Henry’s abilities, and I believe he can give me this chance. As long as he can show me hope, I am willing to give him everything."

Fass nodded. He knew the deal was done.

For a fallen noble, even the faintest glimmer of hope was enough to make them fight for it with everything they had.

And Count Henry was the one who could bring him that hope.

Meanwhile, in stark contrast to Fass’s hectic rushing about, Boman was living a life of absolute leisure.

Boman was currently leaning back in a luxurious armchair, a glass of amber-colored aged wine in his hand. The liquid swirled gently in the glass, releasing a rich, fragrant aroma.

A satisfied smile graced his face, as if the rest of the world didn’t exist, leaving only the comfort and pleasure of the moment.

At a long table not far away, Viscount Carl Yang, Viscount Muwu Zetubu, Baron Edmund, Baron Calvin, and Baron Boras were gathered around. The table was laden with a sumptuous feast—a suckling pig roasted to a crispy golden-brown, fragrant spiced lamb chops, a fresh fruit platter, and a variety of exquisite pastries.

They feasted heartily while chatting and laughing loudly, creating a lively and boisterous atmosphere.

"Boman, come on, another drink!" Viscount Carl Yang shouted, raising his glass. His face was already flushed, clearly feeling the effects of the wine.

Boman stood with a smile, clinked glasses with the others, and downed his in one go. The wine slid down his throat, bringing with it a pleasant, fiery warmth.

"Haha, Boman, you really know how to live! If only I could be like you, doing nothing all day but eating, drinking, and having fun, how great would that be!" Viscount Muwu Zetubu said with envy, gnawing on a lamb chop.

Boman roared with laughter and clapped him on the shoulder. "My friend, that sounds like envy and jealousy talking! But honestly, life like this really is pleasant. How often do we nobles get a chance to relax like this?"

They were currently "conserving their strength," with nothing to think about. All they had to do was wait for Henry’s orders and assignments.

"Isn’t that the truth!" Baron Edmund chimed in. "Drinking, eating meat, and watching plays every day, with an occasional trip to the bathhouse. This is the life of the gods!"

"Speaking of plays, that one yesterday, *Romantic Love*, was absolutely brilliant! And the lead actress—my god, she was unbelievably beautiful!" Baron Calvin recalled with a rapturous expression, as if still lost in the plot of the play.

"Haha, Calvin, don’t just get lost in the play. Be careful those actresses don’t completely bewitch you!" teased Baron Boras, who was getting tipsy, provoking a round of laughter from the group.

Calvin, a burly man, blushed bright red at the teasing and stammered, unsure of what to say.

Boman watched his laughing and cheerful companions, his heart filled with emotion. ’Days like these won’t last much longer. Count Henry’s plan is advancing quickly, and all we have to do is wait for the nobles to come to us.’

In this situation, they could naturally enjoy life to the fullest without having to worry too much.

Life was so good, it made Boman feel like he had returned to his school days at the Imperial Capital Knight Academy years ago.

Back then, all he had to do was complete his assignments and training objectives. The rest of the time was his to spend as he pleased.

Short on cash? Just arrange a time with the upperclassmen and take turns making money in the arena. Those gamblers were nothing more than their personal moneybags.

In the Lukaron arenas, the results of most matches could be "negotiated" within the Knight Academy itself.

"Boman, are you going to the bathhouse this afternoon?" Viscount Carl Yang leaned in and asked in a low voice, a hint of anticipation in his eyes.

Boman smiled slightly and nodded. "Of course. I’m idle anyway, might as well go and relax."

"Haha, that’s great! Let’s go, we’ll head out right now!" Viscount Carl Yang stood up excitedly, beckoning to the others.

And so, the large group left the residence in high spirits, heading for the only bathhouse in the city.

Westwood Laine Keep currently had only this one bathhouse. The serving girls there were stunningly beautiful—all purchased at high prices from other bathhouses or slave traders.

Yes, they were wining and dining in Westwood Laine Keep, blowing huge amounts of money every day.

Henry would probably give them some trouble if he found out later just how much they were spending.

They laughed and joked all the way, causing passersby to glance at them before quickly looking away to avoid any unnecessary misunderstandings or trouble. Not all nobles were as easygoing as Henry.