The Manor Banquet

Translator: Cinder Translations

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Ferguson, once a knight of the Grayman family and now a manor lord, leisurely rode his horse along the countryside road. The fresh air lifted his spirits, and thinking about the feast he was about to attend made him even happier, especially since he could enjoy a good drink there.

Ever since the Alden family established a standing army, many of the new rules Paul introduced for the military were difficult for the old loyalists of the Grayman family to adapt to.

Particularly for the knights who had grown accustomed to a more laid-back lifestyle. When they weren't doing much, they used to spar or hunt — living a carefree and comfortable life. Now, as officers in the new army, they had to report to the barracks daily, oversee soldier training for long stretches, and couldn't even get drunk on regular days. "Heavens! This dull, tasteless existence, is this even living?"

As a result, within the first six months of the new army's formation, nearly a third of the family's knights resigned from their military positions, but they all swore to Paul that they would return to serve the Grayman family in times of need.

These knights had estates that were either passed down through generations or granted by the old Earl, so most of them moved away from Alden Town and returned to their rural manors, living a pastoral life.

Ferguson was one of them. He was close friends with Bryce, the former military steward of the Grayman family and now the second-in-command of the Alden army. The two frequently drank together, and on the day Ferguson left Alden Town, Bryce personally escorted him out.

Nowadays, Ferguson spent his days overseeing work at the estate, hunting with the local gentry, and occasionally visiting Alden Town to catch up with his friends in the army. Life was comfortable.

Thinking about drinking reminded Ferguson of his friends in Alden Town, and thinking of the town brought a wave of emotions. Every time he returned, he saw changes — new roads being paved or new houses being built. It was like an ongoing massive construction project. The marketplace was growing more prosperous, with more shops opening, and goods arriving from all over, even from faraway places like Horns Bay, which for the people of the Northwest was practically the end of the world.

Under the governance of young Lord Paul, Alden Town finally resembled a proper city. The ancestors of the Grayman family would surely be proud.

However, the growing prosperity also brought rising prices. Ferguson would often feel the pinch in his wallet when hosting guests. Luckily, as a manor lord, he didn't have to worry too much about financial pressure from meal expenses.

Another thing Ferguson found unsettling was the sheer number of outsiders in Alden Town. There were all kinds of accents, and every time he visited, it felt more unfamiliar.

"Lord Ferguson, the Walter Estate is just ahead," one of his attendants reminded him, seeing that the lord had fallen into deep thought.

"Oh! We're almost there," Ferguson snapped back to reality and adjusted his clothes. He was on his way to attend the birthday banquet of a local squire. The family name of this squire was Walter, a well-known and respected family in the southwest of Alden, and everyone respectfully addressed the head of the family as "Lord Walter."

As they rounded a bend, the grand Walter Estate appeared before them. Ferguson urged his horse forward, leading his attendants to the front gate.

Two servants immediately came forward to greet them. Ferguson dismounted and handed the reins to the servants.

"How many guests have arrived?" Ferguson asked.

"Honorable Lord Ferguson, 13 guests have already arrived. They are gathered in the drawing room," one servant replied.

"Alright, take me there."

His attendants, carrying gifts, hurried to keep up as Ferguson walked into the estate.

Upon arriving at the drawing room, a servant at the door loudly announced his presence, and the room erupted into chatter.

"Lord Ferguson, you're here too."

"It's an honor to see you today."

As Ferguson strolled in, many people stood up to greet him with bows and salutes. He smiled and responded to each one.

The reason Ferguson received such a warm welcome was due to his former status as a knight of the Grayman family. He was also a hero of the campaign against the pirates, and even now, he maintained connections with many of the high-ranking officers in the lord's army.

"Welcome, our hero — Lord Ferguson! It is a great honor to have you here," said the host of the banquet, Lord Walter, an elderly man. He warmly linked arms with Ferguson and led him to a seat near the main one.

Just as Ferguson sat down, someone approached him with a drink, eager to clink glasses.

Round in shape, with tiny eyes like mung beans... Ferguson's face slightly twitched. Wasn't this the landlord Biden, the one responsible for causing the salt workers' riots? So Lord Walter invited even someone like him?

This Biden had been heavily punished after the riots were quelled. He lost most of his fortune to fines imposed by Earl Grayman and was stripped of his tax-collecting duties. His status among the gentry had plummeted.

Ferguson had no desire to associate with someone with such a tarnished reputation — after all, this man had the audacity to forge an order from the lord's estate, ultimately triggering a riot.

But, out of respect for the banquet's host, Ferguson raised his glass and awkwardly clinked it with Biden's.

Sensing Ferguson's discomfort, Biden quickly exchanged a few pleasantries before retreating to his seat.

As names were announced one by one, more guests arrived at the birthday banquet — all notable figures from the region.

The atmosphere became increasingly lively, with large mugs of ale, hearty food, and bold conversations. The banquets in the northwest bay were rough and rowdy, devoid of the formalities that the wealthy southerners observed. The entire drawing room buzzed with noise, and the party gradually reached its peak.

"Gentlemen, thank you all for attending my birthday banquet!"

When all the guests had arrived, Lord Walter raised his glass high. "First, I propose a toast to our esteemed Lord Paul Grayman!"

"Cheers!"

The guests all lifted their glasses and drank heartily.

"Under Lord Grayman's leadership, we Aldens have finally gained respect in the northwest bay! Last year's usurper war was decided by us Aldens, who crushed the usurper's conspiracy!"

"Haha! The Emden people used to look down on us, but now they're under our lord's rule, and it's our turn to look down on them."

"Even the current Duke of the Northwest relies on Alden's support!"

The hall echoed with praise for Lord Paul Grayman.

Ferguson smiled as he listened. He, too, felt proud because Paul was his lord. Although the earl had not summoned his "old ministers" during the usurper war, leaving Ferguson with some regret.

(End of the Chapter)

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