Chapter 201: Is the Southern Duke Also a Film Fan?
At the lively banquet hosted by the Southern Duke, the nobles exchanged polite greetings and false enthusiasm, shaking hands and embracing each other with practiced decorum.
On the surface, they seemed amiable and cordial, but beneath the facade, they were calculating their connections, seeking out relationships that could bring them personal gain.
Amid this atmosphere, Durin's presence stood out. A crowd of nobles surrounded him, undeterred even by Winry's attempts to appear intimidating to fend them off. The nobles' "enthusiasm" persisted unabated.
Among them were not only young noblemen and elegantly dressed noblewomen but also influential aristocrats renowned throughout the land.
They all feigned admiration for Durin, seeking to establish a connection.
In truth, their intentions were driven solely by their covetous interest in the immense profits of the film and television industry.
Despite maintaining a facade of polite engagement, Durin was inwardly exasperated, his patience wearing thin.
He couldn't help but fantasize about casting a fifth-tier grand spell to clear the crowd entirely.
Yet, no matter how visibly irritated Durin became, more nobles swarmed in from all directions. Many of these individuals had no prior connection to the Edward family, yet now they acted as though they were close allies.
Of course, not all nobles were willing to lower themselves to ingratiate themselves with Durin.
A significant number of them, who had once sought entry into the film industry but were firmly rejected by Durin, now watched the spectacle with cold disdain.
A few, less skilled in masking their emotions, even displayed outright sneers.
Noticing these expressions, Durin frowned slightly but remained unbothered.
After all, the film industry had already taken root in the Southern Territory, becoming an unshakable presence. With powerful backers supporting him, Durin had little to fear from any potential trouble.
As more and more nobles crowded around, testing the limits of his patience, the atmosphere abruptly shifted. A single figure's arrival brought an instant chill to the lively scene.
"Greetings, Your Grace."
Under the watchful and reverent eyes of the gathered nobles, Duke Constantine approached from a distance with a composed and steady stride.
The Duke was a tall and dignified middle-aged man, exuding an air of calm authority. Unlike many nobles, whose gaunt frames and pale complexions betrayed years of inactivity, his presence was as solid and unyielding as a fortress.
At first glance, no one would mistake him for a nobleman. Instead, they might easily assume he was a general who had just returned from the battlefield.
At this moment, Daphne accompanied Duke Constantine as they made their way directly to the center of the venue.
Faced with the tense expressions of the gathered nobles, the Southern Duke cast a calm, indifferent glance over the crowd, his gaze pausing briefly when it landed on Durin.
As for this meaningful look, Durin felt little about it. After all, he had met the Duke once before, and the man's appearance now was not significantly different from back then.
Upon arriving at the venue, the nobles flocked to the Southern Duke, offering their greetings and various well-wishes.
Even marquises, whose rank was just below his, displayed no trace of arrogance in his presence.
This was understandable—ordinary nobles were forbidden to maintain private armies.
Aside from the imperial forces, only the Dukes of the Four Borders were allowed to command frontier troops.
This made Duke Constantine the sole noble in the Southern Region with military power and the only one holding authority over its order.
Faced with the nobles' respectful demeanor, the Southern Duke merely gave a slight nod, showing little enthusiasm.
This response was expected, given the peculiar tradition of the Constantine family.
Every heir was required to undergo a trial in the uncharted lands south of the Southern Region.
Upon completing the trial, they would take command of the Southern Border Army and spend years defending the frontier.
Only after fulfilling these rigorous duties could they inherit the title of Duke Constantine of the South.
Under such strict traditions, each Duke Constantine was a master of martial arts and military strategy. At the very least, they were battle-hardened veterans with years of combat experience, brimming with strength and discipline.
It was only natural that a Duke Constantine would not associate closely with the Southern nobles, many of whom had never set foot on a battlefield.
Moreover, the Constantine family, wielding real military power, had little interest in mingling with the ordinary nobility of the South. This distance often led to quiet resentment and gossip among smaller noble cliques.
Yet, bolstered by their military authority and the ducal title inherited from their ancestors, the Constantine family remained an unshakable presence in the South, impervious to challenges from other nobles.
Now, as Duke Constantine entered, the other nobles discreetly wiped the sweat from their brows and forced stiff smiles.
After exchanging a few meaningless pleasantries, the Duke slowly approached Durin.
"I've heard a lot about you from General Wilhelm and that other individual."
Durin was momentarily taken aback by the Duke's unexpected comment, feeling both surprised and flattered. He hadn't anticipated that someone of Constantine's stature would take such an interest in him.
What surprised Durin even more was what the Duke said next:
"I've also watched KonoSuba and Goblin Slayer. Objectively speaking, the former aligns more with mainstream aesthetics, but I personally prefer the latter. The portrayal of the protagonist and the meticulous attention to combat details both strongly resonate with the style of the Northern Region."
"Uh… this…"
The revelation that the dignified Southern Duke himself not only watched movies but also analyzed them so thoroughly left not only the surrounding nobles but even Durin in a cold sweat. He had no idea how to respond.
In contrast, Duke Constantine continued speaking without hesitation:
"Furthermore, my only dissatisfaction is that when you took my daughter to shoot the movie, you didn't consult me. I distinctly remember instructing Roy to notify you—if you had any leads on her whereabouts, you were to inform me immediately."
"Well… uh… yes, that was my fault. I should have informed you…"
Faced with the Duke's words, Durin could only put on an apologetic expression.
After all, taking Daphne to star in a movie without permission was indeed his doing, and he had deliberately avoided notifying the Southern Duke to prevent Daphne from being forcibly taken away.
What caught Durin off guard, however, was the Duke's next statement:
"No, what I mean is, if you had told me in advance, I would have ensured she underwent proper training first. At the very least, she should have looked like a capable adventurer. It's a disgrace to the Constantine family that she panicked and lost control of herself in the face of darkness and hideous monsters."
"Uh… this…"
In an instant, Durin broke out into a full sweat, unsure how to respond.
Meanwhile, Daphne, standing off to the side, had already buried her face in her hands, her cheeks completely flushed. She wished she could vanish into thin air.
Being publicly criticized like this by her own father was so mortifying that she was at a complete loss for words.
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