There were also massive columns. The room was as lifeless as the rest of the Palace. Except for the female guards standing on the steps leading to the throne. They had amber shields, long spears, heavy armor, breastplates, and bodies that could drive men mad with desire.
The steps led several yards up to the wide platform, where the eponymous ‘small throne’ stood. Made from red stone, with massive armrests, it seemed to press down on the visitor. The harpy statue standing next to it only added to the feeling.
Elaine, wearing a white, long dress, her golden hair in a tight bun, stood out against the scarlet background.
“My Princess,” Hadjar bowed deeply.
“Good morning, General.”
The Princess was one of the few who still called Hadjar ‘General’. In fact, a few days ago, a document bearing the royal seal and an iron medallion with a coat of arms had been brought to him. That was all. The Mad General had turned into a landless Baron. This meant that he couldn’t even pass his title on to his children. He was a nobleman on paper, but, in truth, little more than a beggar.
“You’re the first to arrive.”
Hadjar looked around, but there was nowhere to sit, except on the steps. So, without thinking twice, the former General sat down on the floor right where he stood. Out of habit, he checked his sword, which made the guards nervous.
“I don’t like making people wait,” Hadjar answered.
Elaine didn’t bat an eyelid. The conversation seemed to be completely unpleasant for her.
“Does this apply to all people or just the ones with titles?”
Hadjar understood that she was hinting at the poor fellow who’d almost been beaten to death by the city guards. Realizing that Elaine wouldn’t forget about the incident any time soon, he simply turned away and looked through the stained-glass window. Once upon a time, he-
“I believe I asked you a question, General.”
Hadjar was surprised by the steel and determination in the Princess’ voice. He even thought about answering her, but then the doors opened again.
Flashing his snow-white smile and hair, Nero entered the room. His step was purposeful, and he was holding a small leather bag in his hand, looking the same as before — ready for battle. Apparently, Hadjar wasn’t the only one bored of the Palace.
“Sister, stop tormenting my friend,” he laughed and the echo reached all the way under the high ceiling, making the throne room feel less monumental and much brighter. “Hadj, I don’t see your supplies.”
Hadjar silently pulled a bag out from beneath his clothes, and it looked the same as his friend’s. The comrades exchanged glances, smiled, and nodded mutely to each other. As if they were glad to see that they hadn’t been completely domesticated... during the week and a half they’d spent in the Palace.
“What do you need supplies for?” Elaine asked, bewildered. “We will be accompanied by two carts and nine cooks.”
Nero scratched his head. “You hear that, Hadj? Nine cooks.”
“And two carts,” Hadjar nodded.
They sighed and discarded their leather bags embarrassedly.
“Imagine if we’d followed the White Apes with nine cooks in tow,” Hadjar said dreamily.
Nero approached him and sat down next to his friend. He took out a short dagger from his boot and began picking his teeth with its tip.
Elaine muttered something and disappeared behind the secret door. She’d probably gone to change her clothes. It was unlikely, even considering the carts and cooks, that she would be hunting in the white dress.
“We could’ve used them,” Nero shrugged.
At that moment, he looked less like a prince and more like a brave officer. Upon seeing this, Hadjar’s soul became calmer and... More restless, all at once.
“As bait for the monsters,” Hadjar nodded.
“Would’ve made our jobs a lot easier.”
Again, Hadjar’s response was interrupted. The doors opened with a booming sound and several people entered the room — nine young men and five young women. All of them were wearing leather hunting suits. The aristocrats’ gear looked expensive and comfortable. They had clean skin and slender fingers. Their hands had never known hard work nor had their stomachs felt hunger. There was nothing inherently bad about this, because in this world, only the power that a person had was important, and these people had plenty of it.
Judging by the energy emanating from them (once again, Hadjar regretted rebooting his neuronet), at least four of them were on the verge of becoming true cultivators, and the rest were no lower than the Transformation of the Mortal Shell Stage.
Damn, these fourteen nobles, when they combined their power, were just as strong as the entire Bear squad of the Moon Army.
“Eren,” a tall, haughty young man of seventeen separated from the group. His jacket was sleeveless, allowing the blue tattoos on his arms to be clearly seen.
“Oneg,” the Prince nodded. “Hadjar, let me introduce you to Oneg of Boreas, son of Duke Boreas.”
“Hadjar Traves,” the former General said with a nod.
“Baron Hadjar Traves,” Nero clarified, as if the title changed something.
The son of one of the richest and most influential people in the Kingdom didn’t deign to give Hadjar even a glance. He completely ignored his presence. Hadjar didn’t care, but Nero...
Only the return of the Princess prevented a fight from breaking out.
“Since everyone is here,” she said sweetly, “We can go.”
“My Princess,” Oneg bowed, followed by the other children of the aristocracy.
Chapter 202
Outside the Palace, Hadjar saw two carts that could’ve easily held the daily food supply for the whole Moon Army, and about four dozen horse riders standing on the lawn. Wearing the same light leather armor as the nobles, they looked very formidable and were at the level of Core Formation.
The cooks were tense. They sat in the carts and tried not to look at the children of the aristocrats.
