CHAPTER 116: Should I stake my life one more time? (4)

As Ghislain got busy, the day of the banquet quickly approached.

He decided that today, he would set aside his work and enjoy a day of rest.

"Sometimes I wish I could just relax and have some fun."

Ghislain did enjoy having fun. Back when he was the Mercenary King, he'd let his subordinates handle all the tedious work while he picked only the interesting tasks.

But now, with so much to do, he couldn't afford to take a break, even if he wanted to unwind.

"Tsk, once I get everything sorted out, I can finally relax."

Despite his grumbling, he wore a smile as he slowly made his way to the banquet hall.

Fenris Castle's banquet hall wasn't particularly large, but since the number of vassals and servants was relatively small, there was no problem hosting a banquet.

A few vassals had protested, saying that allowing servants in would lower the dignity of the event, but Ghislain ignored them and pushed forward.

He believed in having everyone join in the fun—things were only enjoyable when everyone could make some noise together.

"Someday, I'll build a huge plaza so we can invite everyone from the estate. That would be even more fun."

He had even considered inviting the entire estate to this banquet. However, there was no way to fit all the estate's residents inside the castle.

With some regret, Ghislain sent barrels of ale and plenty of meat to every household.

The estate residents who got free ale and meat were overjoyed, as were the servants who got to experience a noble banquet firsthand, and they sang the lord's praises.

Living in a poor estate with little entertainment, people of all ages eagerly awaited the banquet.

Everyone except one particular group, that is.

Claude and the mages huddled together in a corner of the hall, whispering to each other.

They looked deathly pale.

"Please, just one person…"

"There must be someone who had a side effect."

"Let's not miss even a single case. We have to find one and push for a draw."

They were frantically searching for anyone who might've had a reaction to the cosmetic, grasping at straws.

It was uncharacteristic behavior for people who usually prided themselves on logic and reason, but that showed just how desperate they were.

'The goddess might not have sent a demon king, but maybe she at least sent someone a pimple.'

Claude stared intently at the banquet hall entrance, inspecting every face that came through.

***

Just as the basic food preparations finished and the makeshift band took their places, Ghislain entered the hall.

"Have we not started yet? Just start already. Why make such a fuss about having fun?"

Typically, the highest-ranking person entered last, but Ghislain didn't care about such formalities.

As he dropped into a chair and began tearing into some meat, the vassals scrambled to call out.

"Let's get started, everyone!"

The band hastily began playing.

Squeak! Squeak! Squeeeeak!

The band members were hastily gathered, so they weren't very skilled. They could barely keep in tune, and now, without any practice, they were even more out of sync.

Thud!

As soon as the doors opened, people who'd been waiting for the banquet rushed in.

They weren't dressed in fancy attire like nobles, but they all wore clean clothes and had put in some effort to look their best.

If there was one more thing they had in common, it was that everyone's faces were bright and glowing.

"Ugh, aaah…"

Claude turned away.

His eyes stung—it was surely just the lighting.

He wasn't on the verge of tears because he was about to lose!

"Damn it…"

Claude cursed under his breath, scanning the people entering the hall.

Everyone looked clear-skinned and smooth. While there were differences in skin tone and wrinkles, no one looked like they had poor skin.

The only ones with anxious expressions were the mages nervously glancing around beside Claude.

When nearly everyone had gathered, Ghislain raised his hand to stop the music.

Honestly, the noise was making his ears ache.

"Thank you all for dedicating yourselves to the estate's busy affairs. We'll be just as busy going forward, so take tomorrow off to rest."

It was a short and straightforward speech, but everyone nodded, expecting this from their no-nonsense lord.

Ghislain turned to Claude and the mages with a mischievous smile.

"Everyone here is aware of the bet between myself and the head butler and the mages."

At the mention of the cosmetic, the room fell silent.

It was finally time to confirm the result of the obvious bet.

"Cosmetic reviews can be subjective, of course. But as far as I know, nearly everyone here has used it."

Leaning back in his chair, Ghislain spoke in a relaxed tone.

"If anyone has experienced side effects, please step forward. I'll offer ample compensation."

No one moved.

Even if someone did have side effects, who would dare step forward before the lord?

Fortunately, there really weren't any side effects.

"Well, it seems clear enough that no one had issues. I'll leave the verdict of the bet up to those here. Please share your honest opinions about cosmetics."

At first, people hesitated, but then a few started to speak up.

"The product is really effective. I've never seen anything like it."

"My skin is so much better than before. It definitely works."

"I had no side effects! It's a perfect product!"

"Could I have another one, please? Pretty please?"

Once a few people started speaking, the whole room began buzzing with praise for the cosmetic.

Many people worried it might be unavailable soon, lamenting that they might not be able to get more.

In the end, the praise for the cosmetic turned into admiration for the lord.

"This is amazing! When you showed us the new farming techniques, that was incredible, and now you've made something like this!"

"This is going to be huge! It'll become our estate's signature product!"

"Please make more! I'll believe anything you say now!"

The compliments flowed endlessly.

Ghislain leaned back, satisfied, his expression smug as if saying, "Yes, keep praising me."

When people finally started to tire of the compliments, Ghislain glanced at Claude and the mages.

"Well? Seems like the results are in, don't they?"

"Ugh… ugh…"

Claude and the mages turned pale.

After all those prayers, there wasn't a single person with a pimple!

He'd really managed to make a working cosmetic.

There was no way they could argue against it now.

Claude looked around, trembling. Everyone in the hall was staring at him, waiting for him to accept defeat.

"Ha…"

Claude let out a sigh, gazing at the ceiling with a self-deprecating smile.

"Well, I suppose it's unavoidable. I can't believe you succeeded again, my lord. Where on earth did you learn this?"

For better or worse, he had to accept his loss.

That was the way of a "gambler."

Though, admittedly, it was just nonsense.

"Fine, I lost."

Now, he was a slave for twenty years.

Well, it was the expected outcome when one bets their life on a gamble.

As Claude nodded in resignation, a wave of admiration rippled through the crowd.

To accept twenty years of servitude so calmly—truly, he was extraordinary, perhaps a bit unhinged, for a head butler of Fenris Estate.

Claude shook his head with a helpless smile.

He bumped his fist lightly toward Alpoi and said,

"We lost, but we put up a good fight. It was a great match, wasn't it, bro?"

Alpoi, standing in a daze, slowly turned his head.

He looked at Claude's face, beaming despite acknowledging his loss.

"Pfft."

Alpoi snickered and reached his fist toward Claude's, only to suddenly spread his hand wide open.

Whoosh!

Flames burst from Alpoi's palm.

"Gah!"

Wendy quickly yanked Claude back by the collar, saving his face from the flames but causing him to plop down onto the floor.

"Hey, bro! What's with you all of a sudden?!"

Claude looked up, rubbing his backside.

Alpoi and the mages' faces had turned frighteningly cold.

"W-wait a second. Are you planning to attack? In front of the lord? This is supposed to be a happy day!"

"I'm going to kill you."

Alpoi and the mages began channeling their magic.

Realizing how serious things were, Wendy quickly picked up Claude and dashed out of the banquet hall.

She couldn't possibly handle all twenty-six mages in a direct confrontation.

"Catch him! We're gonna kill him!"

Alpoi and the mages charged after them.

The sudden commotion left the other guests stunned and bewildered.

Ghislain waved a hand casually.

"Don't mind them. Enjoy yourselves. I'll go settle things with those idiots."

Once the lord left, everyone felt free to enjoy the banquet fully.

With a muttered complaint, Wendy carried Claude around the estate to evade the mages.

"Run! If they catch you, you're dead!"

"Shut up."

Alpoi and the mages, fueled by rage, chased after them relentlessly.

The chase didn't end until Ghislain intervened and subdued everyone.

***

"We have a problem."

Now a twenty-year slave, Claude spoke with a grave expression.

"What now? There's never a day without issues with you. Alright, what's the problem this time?"

"First of all, congratulations on the success of the cosmetic. Anyone who tries it can't help but be amazed. May I have a few more? I'd like to send some to Anna."

"What's the issue, then?"

"The production cost is too high to make it in bulk. And if we produce only small amounts, it'll be too slow. That's the problem."

The cosmetic required numerous herbs.

The most expensive ingredient was the flower known as the "Fairy's Blessing."

It was the same flower, more expensive than gold by weight, that they'd used to treat Gillian's daughter.

Although only a small amount was used, the production cost was still significant.

"That's fine. I'll just sell it to nobles at a higher price. They're the primary market anyway."

"High-end strategy—good. But nobles have to buy it for us to make money. Even the castle servants were hesitant to use it. Gillian used it out of loyalty. Nobles won't be so willing."

"Well, then we'll just have to advertise."

"How, exactly? This is a rural estate. There aren't even nobles here."

Ghislain nodded, indicating he had a plan in mind.

"I'm going to the capital."

"What?"

"All the nobles who enjoy socializing are there. I'll network and try to sell cosmetics."

"Hah… The capital nobles are notoriously picky. What would make them buy the lord's product? If it doesn't sell well, it'll just be a waste."

"What if we force them to use it?"

"What?"

Claude's eyes widened. Forcing nobles to use it—was that even possible?

"Just kidnap one or two for about two weeks, lock them up, and let their skin improve. Then, release them."

"Are you insane?"

"They might be grateful once they see how good their skin looks."

"Grateful? They'd—never mind. They'd probably kill you. Maybe afterward, they'd realize, 'Oh, it wasn't poison after all.'"

"Hmm, maybe it's not the best idea."

"Of course not. Please, let's try to be reasonable."

Ghislain was starting to realize the problem. Without a reputation like the Delphine Duchy's, selling to nobles would indeed be challenging.

"Well, I'll think about it when we get there. Keep ordering ingredients. We'll need to keep producing steadily."

"Ugh… Well, I suppose we can't just sit on a product this good without trying to sell it."

Claude didn't oppose selling the product.

With such clear results, it had no rivals on the continent.

The best outcome would be for it to catch on through word of mouth among the capital's nobility.

They were the trendsetters of the kingdom.

Once nobles began buying it, they'd be rolling in money.

It was just that initial hurdle of convincing the first few to try it.

"If sales are slow at first, maybe we should produce less until the word gets out."

"No, let's stockpile it. Once someone tries it, demand will skyrocket. If we prepare then, it'll take too long."

"Well, that's true… but the costs will rise if it doesn't sell. The unit price is very high, and there are limits to storage."

"Don't worry. We'll go to the capital and see what happens. If all else fails, I'll try door-to-door sales. People sell things that way, right?"

"Your strategy is… dizzying."

Claude couldn't imagine who would buy cosmetics from a country lord. It seemed like Ghislain might end up threatening people with a sword to make a sale.

If word got out, it would damage not only Ghislain's reputation but everyone around him as well.

"Let's think a bit more about door-to-door. Building connections with nobles would be a better approach."

"I'm considering that. Hah, making friends isn't easy, though."

"…Yes, it isn't."

This time, Claude didn't wager on the outcome.

The product was effective, so it would eventually spread through word of mouth.

Once nobles started noticing, connections would form naturally.

It was just frustrating that they'd have to take a loss on the stockpiled product until then.

"When do you plan to leave? It'll take time to build up enough stock."

"As soon as we have enough to sell. We've been making it steadily during the testing, so it won't take too long."

"Alright, then. Safe travels. I hope you make lots of friends. Good luck with the sales."

Claude put on a deliberately concerned face, hiding his joy.

Just the trip to the capital alone would take a month.

Factoring in time for promotion, Ghislain would be gone for a while.

Claude planned to take advantage of Ghislain's absence to rest and recover.

'Please, just go soon.'

But Ghislain's response was like a bolt from the blue.

"Who said I'd be going alone? You're coming with me."

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