Edmund Moen smiled as he left. The negotiation seemed quite satisfactory to the Prince, but he declined Gawain's invitation to stay for dinner—he said that he had to return to the Silver Castle as soon as possible, for the old King was still waiting for his good news.
Rebecca only spoke after Edmund left. "He seems like a very genial man—I'd thought that the Crown Prince would be a very difficult person to deal with, with all the etiquette and what-not…"
"That's because he's looking at this seven hundred year-old ancestor right here, and not a ruined Viscountess from the borders." Gawain shot Rebecca a look. "Do you really think this is how he usually behaves? It's the total opposite, because he acted in a manner that is exactly my style of communication, he must have done his homework before coming here."
Rebecca exclaimed, "Ah?"
Gawain thought for a while before explaining to her, "Negotiation tactics, in summary, are just speaking in the right manner to the right people. At first, he began his visit with the bearing of a Prince paying a visit to a high-ranking 'aristocratic patriarch', and displayed just the right amount of politeness and sternness. After he noticed how I spoke and behaved, he immediately became more light-hearted and humorous in order to make me open up and talk more. That's a great skill."
Rebecca scratched her head. "… Huh?"
Gawain sighed. "… I think you should stick to researching how to launch fireballs."
Rebecca could feel Gawain's intense exasperation even if she was not that smart. Immediately, she became a little nervous. "Lord Ancestor, am I… a little too dumb regarding this?"
"Everyone has their own talents. Yours doesn't happen to be in this area, so you don't need to force it." Gawain patted Rebecca's head (being tall meant he could do anything). "Also, to be honest, I don't really like playing mind games with other people too. I much prefer the days when a whole group of people put life and death out of the picture, only working hard to carve out a living in the wilderness…"
Rebecca nodded as if she understood what he said, before continuing curiously, "Oh yeah, Lord Ancestor, was what you said earlier true?"
Gawain said, "What are you talking about?"
Rebecca asked earnestly, "Did all of you really give thirty names to a single wine, and even pen sonnets after those names in those days?"
Gawain sighed. "Of course it's true."
"That sounds so cool!"
"Actually, it was due to our poverty then. At that time, the pioneers hadn't even arrived at the Plains of the Holy Spirits, so it was really difficult for us to feed everyone without agricultural land. We only gave one wine over thirty names because we only had one kind of wine then, and it was our last keg too. We penned sonnets after the names for nothing other than entertainment. So, you need to know that all the complicated manners and rules of the nobility are all a result of having nothing better to do, and are basically the stuff of boredom."
Rebecca's eyes were sparkling. She felt as though she had gained some tremendous knowledge—these were the things that Aunt Heidi would never teach her!
Just then, the window to the room was pushed open. Amber hopped in through the open window and threw herself onto the chair. Swinging her legs back and forth, she bantered with Gawain, "You're interesting, old man! Hearing what you just said has elevated my view of you past all the other nobles!"
"Stop calling me an old man; I'm still in the prime of my life!" Gawain glared at Amber. "And aren't you supposed to be out patrolling? Are you trying to slack off by coming inside?"
Amber was rocking her body on her seat as though she could not sit still for a second. "I did patrol the area, and having found nothing, I'm back for some water. You can't prevent me from resting—then again, how can you be so sure that someone is going to sneak in? Look at the Prince; he entered through the main door…"
"If the Prince came in by flipping over a wall, then Charlie should also have bounced out of his coffin like I did." The corner of Gawain's lips quirked. "But not everyone who wants to talk to me will enter from the main door. I'm staying here today, to wait for these people."
"Okay, okay, okay. You're the boss." Amber waved a hand. She poured herself a cup of tea and chugged it down before walking over to the window. However, she turned back just as she was about to jump out again, snatching away two pieces of muffins Gawain had prepared for tea. "It's cold outside. I'll eat something to warm up."
Gawain regretted not having his Sword of Pioneers in hand.
He then turned to his n+1th great-granddaughter. "You should head back inside to rest. You have to be in your best condition when we meet the King tomorrow."
Rebecca nodded and followed with a question, "What about you, Lord Ancestor?"
"I'm used to sleeping late, and I was planning on going to my study," Gawain said, "Since I'm considered a returning visitor, I have to see how much this place has changed."
Rebecca obediently bade Gawain goodnight and turned to leave the room, while he stood there for a while before walking to the study located on the second floor.
Even though Gawain Cecil was famous for his combat skills, he was not just a martial artist who only knew how to wield weapons. In fact, he was a semi polymath and herbalist as well, and he liked to read books in his leisure. Thus, apart from having an armory for himself in the mansion of 4 Crown Street, there was also a substantial study inside.
Gawain mused as he sat in front of the restored desk, his fingers tapping lightly on its surface. His gaze wandered between the quaint bookshelves and pictures hanging on the wall, eventually returning to the table.
The memories that did not belong to him swelled up in his mind again, causing him to feel a strange sense of familiarity towards the objects in front of him. He marveled at the painstaking efforts of the later generations—not only had they restored the furniture, but the quills and papers on the desk were placed in the positions where Gawain Cecil used to have them, to the point where this intimate restoration made him feel a little fearful.
It seemed like someone knew he would come back, and had specially prepared the place for him.
Even though the memories were clear, they ultimately did not belong to him and he was thus unable to relate emotionally to them. Gawain quickly looked away, and got up from the seat. He got down to the ground and started groping at the floor under the table.
A secret compartment was revealed and he felt his fingers touch a piece of cold metal. After feeling for a ring on the metal's surface, he lifted it out of the secret compartment.
It was an exquisite little box that exuded a cool silver light. Despite being seven hundred years old, it still looked brand new.
Upon seeing the little box, Gawain then sighed with relief.
It was still here.
Most of the things in this mansion were perhaps no longer original. However, there were some things that could be preserved for more than seven hundred years, such as a little Mithril-forged safe.
The box was inlaid with intricate patterns of magic, but also had an emblem of a sword and shield cast with adamantite and ferroplasm on its surface. Next to the emblem was some exquisite lettering, as well as the joint surnames of Gawain Cecil and Charlie I.
These markings and words, along with the secret incantations passed down through generations of Moens (the royals of Anzu), ensured that if the main house was ever rebuilt and this little box found, it would once again be placed in its original location.
However, this was also because Gawain's "resurrection" had not been too late. The old incantations and deterrent forces of the ancestors were bound to lose their effectiveness over time, especially since this was the second dynasty, which meant that the first dynasty had already fallen into the abyss. If he had arrived a little later, and this mansion had undergone another complete renovation, no one would be able to guarantee the whereabouts of the little box.
Gawain placed the little box on the table. If the most important purpose for their journey to the capital was to obtain the "permanent right to develop regions", then the second-most important purpose was this Mithril safe right in front of his eyes.
He had not brought Rebecca to look for this box not because he did not trust his theoretical descendant, but because he was not certain of the box's existence. If he mysteriously told her that "your ancestor's going to show you something interesting", led the girl over, and found nothing after scrounging the ground, it would be really embarrassing.
Gawain channeled magic onto the surface of the box according to the memories in him before dabbing a drop of his own blood onto the emblem in the middle of the box. The inside of this small magical object immediately turned with a crisp mechanical sound, and the lid popped open slightly.
There were very few things inside. Other than a palm-sized crystal which had already lost its magical power and was only useful as ornaments now, there was a palm-sized platinum disc. Gawain put the crystal aside temporarily and took up the disc, inspecting it.
Its surface was also engraved with complex patterns of magic, but other than that, there were also a few characters that looked like they were floating on it, vibrating constantly. They were seals used to communicate with the elements.
"Well, I've got the key now…"
Gawain muttered something under his breath and stuffed both the crystals and the disc against his chest. However, just as he stood, a slight breeze whipped across his ear.
He swiped up the dagger on his desk immediately, his muscles tense, preparing to fight.
"With such acute senses and reflexes, it does seem like you're the real deal," a voice belonging to a young woman floated in through the window. It was only then that Gawain noticed that the window of the room had been opened at some point, and a veiled woman in a purple dress was hovering in the air and walking on nothing towards the window. "Please relax. If people like us fight, we'd probably surprise half the people in the cit—"
Before the girl could finish speaking, a swift black shadow darted down from the roof, accompanied by Amber's cries, "Little thief! I finally caught you—Aiya!"
Amber, Master of the Shadowy Arts with her insane, monstrous talents of stealth and shadow travel, was sent flying through the air by the mysterious woman's casual punch because she only had a combat skill that rivaled one-and-a-half geese.
However, the mysterious woman seemed to be surprised as well. She was still stunned after launching Amber through the air. "Just now… What was that?"
Gawain, with a dagger in his hand, was still on his toes. "That's my bodyguard, if I'm not wrong."
"Ah, my apologies," the mysterious woman apologized quickly. Such an attitude was surprising. She looked in the direction where Amber had fallen and turned to explain, "I attacked instinctively because she rushed out so suddenly. But don't worry, she's alright; at most, she'll feel dizzy for a while."
Gawain eased up a little, but still maintained his stern attitude. "Who are you?"
"I apologize. It seems like there was a lack of consideration regarding my appearance." The mysterious woman stood on the windowsill and bowed politely. "The Mithril Vault sends its greetings to you. Allow me to introduce myself. I am your VIP commissioner, Melita Ponia. I am in charge of all your savings in the Mithril Vault."
Gawain frowned. "My Little Pony?"