Berlic shifted slightly in his throne, and the amused smile that had been resting on his face gradually faded as he looked across the crowded hall.
"You are all aware of the increase in the number of spatial rifts appearing across the kingdom," Berlic said, his voice carrying throughout the hall.
"Many peaceful cities have already fallen into ruin because of the monsters emerging from them."
The atmosphere immediately became heavier.
Several guests exchanged uneasy glances, while others lowered their voices and discussed the recent reports they had heard.
"Is there nothing we can do?" one of the guests asked anxiously.
"The hope is not yet lost," Berlic replied calmly.
He paused for a moment before continuing, "In times like these, we can only put our trust in the swordsmen capable of cutting down those monsters for us."
"City Lord is right!" a merchant immediately said.
"We must recruit more knights!" another guest added.
"We should increase the number of patrols around the city as well," someone else suggested.
"More weapons and defensive equipment should be distributed to the outer districts," another nobleman said.
Berlic listened to the suggestions for several moments before raising one hand.
The conversations gradually died down.
"But that alone would not be enough," Berlic said as he slowly rose from his throne.
"Great swordsmen require resources, and for that, I need your help and support. Gold, weapons, mystic herbs, potions, whatever you can give, give it, and I will make sure to keep all of you safe."
He reached for the sword resting across his lap and slowly raised it toward the ceiling.
"I, Berlic Draveon, give you my word," he declared.
The hall erupted into applause.
Many of the guests nodded enthusiastically, while several merchants immediately began discussing what resources they could contribute to the new order.
Elias remained completely silent throughout the commotion.
His brows were slightly furrowed as he watched Berlic and wondered, ’What exactly does he want from me?’
Everything that had happened so far felt strange.
The insulting carriage, the public humiliation, the invitation, and now this speech about spatial rifts and recruiting swordsmen all seemed connected somehow, yet Elias couldn’t understand where he fit into it.
His confusion disappeared when Berlic suddenly looked down at him.
"Elias Crimson," Berlic said, his voice becoming louder as the hall gradually quieted.
"The son of the greatest and strongest swordsman of the kingdom, Duke Aegon Crimson."
The guests turned their attention toward Elias again.
"No matter if they call you a bastard or Trash," Berlic continued, his expression becoming strangely benevolent.
"The blood of steel runs through your veins, and I wish to see the edge of your sword."
He extended one hand toward Elias.
"You are to become the first knight of the Kilmir Relief Order."
Elias stared at him.
"What?" he asked, unable to hide his confusion.
The hall immediately erupted into murmurs.
"Is he serious?"
"That bastard?"
"Doesn’t he have almost no talent with the sword?"
"I heard he trained for years and remained a beginner."
"How could someone like him become the first knight of a new order?"
Elias listened to the voices surrounding him without saying anything.
Berlic, however, simply smiled.
His expression was benevolent, almost as though he were defending Elias from the cruel judgment of the crowd.
He looked toward the guests and asked, "Trash? Do you people really believe someone from the great Crimson Ducal Clan, a family known for producing some of the most brilliant swordsmen and swordswomen in the kingdom, regards talent the same way we do?"
The murmurs gradually became quieter.
Several guests exchanged uncertain glances.
Berlic continued speaking before anyone could interrupt.
"The Crimson Ducal Clan has produced countless extraordinary swordsmen throughout its history," he said.
"Do you truly believe they would allow someone completely incapable of wielding a sword to carry the surname Crimson?"
A merchant slowly raised his hand.
"Does that mean he isn’t actually that bad with the sword?" he asked.
Berlic nodded confidently.
"Obviously," he said. "He has been bestowed the surname Crimson. How could he be bad by our standards?"
The guests began whispering among themselves again.
Some looked at Elias with curiosity, while others seemed to reconsider their earlier assumptions.
Elias understood immediately.
’What a clever bastard.’
Berlic wasn’t defending him out of kindness.
He was creating a public justification for placing Elias at the head of the Kilmir Relief Order.
If Elias succeeded, Berlic could claim that he had recognized Elias’s hidden potential.
If Elias failed, Berlic could simply point to Elias’s reputation and claim that he had been wrong to trust him.
Either way, Berlic would benefit.
Berlic’s smile widened slightly as he looked directly at Elias.
’Haha,’ he laughed inwardly. ’What are you going to do now, bastard?’
He tilted his head and asked politely, "Do you wish to refuse my offer, Elias Crimson?"
Elias opened his mouth to answer. But before he could say anything, Berlic stepped closer.
The City Lord’s smile remained unchanged as he leaned toward Elias and whispered so quietly that only the two of them could hear.
"If you dare refuse, I will force out half of the resources the Crimson Clan will send you and your wives."
Elias’s expression immediately became somber, and for a moment, he simply looked at Berlic.
’So that’s what he wants...’ Elias realized inwardly.
The new City Lord didn’t actually care about his swordsmanship.
He wanted resources.
More specifically, he wanted to use Elias’s position as a member of the Crimson Ducal Clan to force wealth, weapons, mystic herbs, potions, and other resources into his hands under the guise of supporting the Kilmir Relief Order.
Berlic probably believed Elias was still the useless bastard everyone called him.
He probably expected Elias to have no choice but to accept.
Elias lowered his gaze for a moment, then a faint smile appeared in his heart.
’Too bad I’m far stronger than before.’
Elias looked back at Berlic; there was no anger in his eyes anymore. Instead, there was a faint calmness that made Berlic’s smile feel increasingly unpleasant.
Elias bowed very slightly before he said, "I accept."
Berlic’s expression twisted.