“I’m honoured you even know my name, sire.”
“Don’t be happy just yet. I was told you refused to be knighted to the city of Sunpeak. Your strength would be quite an asset for Sunpeak. Is our city not worth your consideration?”
He said the last words with enough of a warning undertone that Astaroth knew they were meant more like an interrogation than a question.
“Quite the opposite, Grand Marshall. I believe you would waste such a title on the likes of me. I also very much like the freedom of being an adventurer.”
Euclesias smiled at his statement, while the duke snorted in agreement.
“Nonsense, boy. You have proved your worth in battle, and I would be willing to offer you the title of Baron, just to get you in the army.”
“Sire, I must—”
“Marshall, I would advise you to keep your greedy hands off my adventurers. I wouldn’t be against moving the guild out of the city to protect the freedom of my men,” Master Eustas said, his gaze sharpening.
The Lord Marshall stared back at him, as the aura of both men started leaking outward, making the air itself heavy. Sweat was already trickling down the noble’s temple, and Astaroth was beginning to feel very uncomfortable.
“Marshall! Must I remind you only my brother, the king, has the power to give out such a title?! A fake noble like you has no such right!” the duke screeched out, his face a mix of terror and anger.
“Who are you to call me a fake noble? Must I remind you we hold the same rank?” The marshall seethed, looking back to the duke.
“My brother was foolish to give soldiers ranks. A brainless meathead like you should have never held such a noble right in the first place!”
The Marshall stood up so fast that the chair beneath him exploded backward. His sword was already drawn and leaning in against a force field conjured before his throat.
“How dare you speak ill of the king? You may be his brother, but you still owe him all your respect, you snake.”
ƥαṇdα- ηθνε|·ƈθm
His personal guard was already moving forth, weapons drawn, as another barrier was erected between their small group and the troops.
Astaroth was now sweating profusely. He was the one that formed the force field, protecting the duke by compressing mana in front of the blade.
But keeping it in place was taking all of his focus.
‘So heavy!’
The marshall didn’t seem to be applying much of his strength, but the compressed mana was already showing signs of splitting apart. Astaroth could tell by that alone that his mana skin would be like flannel against a sword strike from this man.
“Guild Master! Are you siding with this maniac?!”
“Quite the opposite, Duke Archambeault. I am keeping your men alive.”
“S…Sir..” Astaroth muttered, his concentration slipping.
Master Eustas gave a stern look to the Marshall, who clicked his tongue and withdrew his blade.
*Gasp*
Astaroth started wheezing. Even the dragon hadn’t tired him this much.
He now understood why he was here in the first place. He was there to slay the dragon if the players failed.
It slightly impressed Marshall Promentha that the kid was even fast enough to conjure a barrier, even one so small, that could block his sword.
It spoke lengths of his quick thinking and his potential power. The Marshall wanted him in the army even more, but by the look in Euclesias’ eyes, he knew that wouldn’t happen.
The guild master conjured another chair, so the man could sit back down.
“Now, can we get back to the reason we came?” the old man asked, a smile forming on his lips.
Astaroth was still unsure how the situation would turn out at this point. He secretly hoped they told him to leave so he could escape from this nightmare.
But such a thing never happened.
After over an hour of back and forth between the men, over who should get the dragon’s loot and materials, Astaroth’s head felt like bursting.
The noble representative insisted that such a treasure should belong solely to the government of Sunpeak, and that the adventurers should only get paid for the kill.
The military representative counterattacked, saying that the materials were required to make the army stronger, and that any weapon in its loot should also be theirs. The rest could be split between the other two parties.
The guild master was even more rash, insisting that since this wasn’t an official request, but a wild kill, it belonged entirely to the guild, and that they should be allowed to do what they want with it.
Astaroth still didn’t know what he was doing at the table. He tried taking the side of the players, advocating for their rights to loot, but the noble almost shut his claims down.
At this point, the sun was setting, and the issue was still unresolved. Neither of the three men wanted to back down or concede.
It was eventually decided that the king would have the last word, since they couldn’t agree. They sent their troops to tally the amount of loot and the state of the dragons’ corpse, before they brought it back to the city.
Astaroth was finally released from this tedious duty, and he walked back tiredly to his friends.
“Urgh! Finally!” he cried out, letting himself drop to his back next to Violette and Phoenix.
The girls looked at him, giggling a bit, before Phoenix asked what took so long.
Astaroth recounted in broad strokes the situation, painting a grim portrait of the loot. But since it had not officially completed the quest, there was still hope.
The players that had accepted his party invite were already trying to swarm him for answers. They were expecting him to give out the loot right then and there.
Most were grumbling in disappointment when he told them he didn’t have it. An emissary saved his hide from these scavengers when they came to tell Astaroth to show up at the royal court the next day, with all his party members.
This assuaged most of their complaints, and Astaroth was left alone. He couldn’t wait to go to bed.