"What does he think of himself?" Kari grumbled. In her fury, she punched a nearby wall—the shear force of which, caused the concrete to cave, creating a small crater.
"Master, the nobles call for you." Hund snapped Kari out of her bubble of rage.
"Alright." She heaved a sigh, resolving to let go of her emotions for now. Kari headed to the tea room, where the nobles made themselves comfortable with after Alva's match, with Hund towing after her. As soon as she was inside the room, the nobles crowded her, ignoring Hund.
"Is it true?"
"That young man, is he Duke Rothschild's?"
"How in the world is he here?"
The nobles rambled, obviously strung out by the revelation. With a practiced smile, Kari eased the nobles.
"Indeed, the young Alva is from the Rothschild family." Although Kari had knowledge of it just that morning.
At her words, all the nobles quieted down. They looked at each other, probably seeking a brave soul to conjure the answers from Kari. And, as they all hoped, Count Graf took it upon himself to do the questioning.
"Is the duke doing business in here, as well?" He started. "If so, maybe you can introduce us to him sometime?" Count Graf stroked his mustache—a sign of his eagerness.
"I'm afraid not, Count Graf. The Duke of Rothschild has never been to my floor. His son came to me by himself, and I was too dazzled by the boy's skill that I ended up taking him in as a disciple despite swearing off from doing so." Kari lied.
"As for the duke, I have yet to meet him. But, I'm sure he must be well pleased by his son's accomplishments. I can only hope that he shall show his face soon, what with his son's rise in fame." She added, smiling at the count's obvious rancor.
The viscount scoffed. "The duke is quite particular about such things. It is quite a wonder why the man has not yet shown his face."
"Truly." The count added, trying to camouflage his displeasure at the news.
"In any case, my son shall be participating the match this afternoon. Hopefully, the little duke shall go easy on my child." The Baron tried to imply.
"What nonsense!" The count explained. "The little duke cannot hold back on anyone—for his Master's sake. Just what would people say if a mere baron were to defeat the son of a duke? It would be quite plain to see that the match was manipulated. And, we do not wish for something atrocious such as that, do we?" He turned to Kari, waiting for her support on the matter.
Kari chuckled. "Indeed, Count. You took the words from my mouth."
The count looked rather pleased by her answer, to which Kari couldn't hep but feel amused. These nobles were biting each other's head off—competing, not wanting the other's to get ahead of them.
She heard a term about this mentality of theirs before—the 'crab mentality'. Pulling others down as they put themselves down. These petty nobles were the real low-lives, if anything.
If only Kari could show this sight to Alva. Maybe that thickheaded boy would finally see.
The nobles talked a bit more about who would win against the talented Alva in the latter half of the matches. Kari excused herself immediately by lunch time and went off with Hund.
"Master, may I ask you a question?"
Kari chuckled, "You already did."
"Well," Hund cleared his throat. "Why did you reveal... Alva's ties to the Duke? It seems to me that doing so only fueled the nobles to pester you."
Ah, how simple-minded. Kari thought to herself.
"It may seem as such, Hund. However, revealing Alva's last name has brought me more advantages than disadvantages. I simply weighed the benefits over the losses, and acted upon it." I explained.
"What benefits, Master?"
"You see, Hund, talent moves this world." Kari chucked a dagger, Adelredus' keepsake, on a nearby wall.
"Should it not be money, Master?" Hund followed up, to which Kari chuckled in amusement.
"I see you are not a complete ignorant. Yes, you are right. Money is huge part of how this Tower runs. However, talent is the bigger acorn. If I were to chose between someone rich or someone talented, it would be the latter. After all, what use is riches when one cannot even protect his own turf."
"What does this mean, Master?"
"It means, I'm using Alva to bait a bigger fish." Kari concluded.
Hund looked even more confused. "I do not understand, Master."
"Oh Hund, you need not concern yourself over such matters. We have bigger problems. After all, tomorrow will be your day. That's why for now, I want you to focus on your training. Understand?"
"... Yes, Master."
¤¤♡¤¤♡¤¤
"Start!" The referee shouted over the top of his lungs.
Immediately, Alva dashed to his opponent and landed a high kick on his opponent's chin. A wave of 'oh's and 'ah's echoed from the crowd—no doubt they had felt the pain even by simply watching.
In an instant, another noble kid joined in the fray and headed for Alva.
"For House Freiherr!" The kid shouted his battle cry, no doubt instructed by his father to do so—in hopes of procuring Alva's discretion on the matter of going easy.
However, the Baron's house had no bearing to Alva. His discretion, contrary to the Baron's expectations, was to mop the floor with the kid's face. The crowds cheered.
"That rascal—" The baron started, only to stop when he noticed Kari's eye on him. "I—I mean, the young duke sure is talented."
Kari smiled dismally.
The number of challengers began to dwindle, until only one was left.
"What—?!" Count Graf stood up from his seat. He watched in surprise as his son stood on the same stage as Alva.
"What is that fool—" The count looked at his followers' equally surprised expressions. He cleared his throat, trying to cover up his disbelief. However, Kari was quick to notice. Immediately, she connected the dots.
"It seems your son has taken the initiative."