They walked for a few more minutes until an exquisite and grand building came into view. It was built right in the center of the city, the Baron's residence. It is undoubtedly the heart of the city.
His unease had grown as they ventured deeper into the city, but nothing could help him anymore. Gresvin gathered all the courage he could muster and followed the guard into the building. He was then led into a large room where three men were gathered.
Two were dressed in the steely grey color of the guards with Ostian blue colored plumes on their helmets. Gresvin could tell by a single glance that they were two of the rank 3 generals under Baron Reinhardt's command.
While the third man was seated. He sat in the back of the room, two steps higher than the ground floor, with nothing else of importance even remotely close to him. It was also slightly raised on a few steps. The man seated on the chair was the Lord of the city—Baron Reinhardt Grimm.
He was relatively large, in the middle region… with a sloppy beard and short brown hair. He dressed in quite fanciful clothes.
These were the types of clothes that were expensive to buy, even though they were not ceremonial fabrics. 'He's strong,' Gresvin thought, his muscles tensing. But not as strong as Uncle or Father,' he gave a stiff smile.
His sloppy appearance was distinctly different from the aura he exuded. The commanding and strong aura was ruined by his appearance.
The initial thoughts were overwhelmed in an instant by a feeling of disgust as he continued to gaze at the man.
He had to use all his strength not to show his reaction, or else he would be put in a difficult situation. He did not have the strength to escape from the Baron, let alone defeat him.
He could only hide his disgust and appear as respectful as he could; he did not have the same status as before; he was no longer the son of a Marquis. He was exiled and, for all intents and purposes - a traitor.
"So… my knights tell me you want passage through to the Endless plains, is that right?" the man smiled, his voice rough as if someone was scraping metal.
"Indeed, Lord Baron," Gresvin replied respectfully and gave him the standard greeting for the nobles of Ostia.
The Baron's eyes narrowed in surprise, but he quickly adjusted. "Well, it seems that it is a bad time for you, o 'mere traveler.' Storms have made the pass unstable, and it seems that there is no place for you to pass through safely,"
Gresvin did not speak and only listened. 'It seems this man wants something,' he thought. There was no need for the Baron to see him just because he wanted to pass through the city. 'He most probably already knows my true identity,' Gresvin sighed.
The Baron gazed at Gresvin and waited for a reaction, but seeing as the youth before him did not falter, he could not help but feel somewhat disappointed.
"Tsk." he grunted, "Well if you truly want to pass through the mountains, there may be a way for us to help with your travels." he smiled; his eyes were locked onto the small pouch that hung loosely on Gresvin's waist. The cloak Gresvin had on was not able to conceal the pouch.
Gresvin looked up and realized where the Baron was looking, and he sighed in resignation. He carefully unhooked the pouch and threw it to the knight standing behind the Baron. "There is everything I have; the rest I have is none other than cheap clothes and small loaves of bread," he said with a hint of coldness in his words.
'There is no need to quibble with this man; even trying to negotiate would only harm me,' he consoled himself. That was all he had; now, he had nothing left for the rest of his journey. "I do not intend to infringe on your territory, Lord Baron. I will leave this city before the midday sun strikes. I have no need or want to stay in your territory," Gresvin reassured him, trying to quicken the meeting.
"Haha," the Baron burst out in laughter with an incredible look. "You're in such a hurry, Gresvin; why don't you stick around for a while longer?" The Baron spoke with snickers in between his words.
Gresvin had guessed that the Baron already knew of his true identity. He gazed at the Baron with a rather icy gaze. He did not make any sudden movements, as it would spell his demise. "What is it that you seek from Lord Baron? I have nothing to give. I am only an exiled man heading towards his place of banishment," Gresvin smiled ruefully.
"Yes, yes. Indeed. I don't intend to do anything against you. Even in exile, your stupid Uncle and Father are not something I can handle now," he laughed bitterly.
"Hehe, you being here would only spell trouble for me, especially if the King were to find out. I do not intend to keep you here as I have no need to curry favor with that man," he continued on with his monologue.
Gresvin, who had a rather ice-cold gaze, felt astonished. He never expected the Baron to let him go; he was fully prepared to negotiate with the insatiable Lord for his safe passage.
Gresvin relaxed slightly due to surprise, and the Baron noticed it; his laughter had erupted once more, "Haha, were you intending to fight me for your safe passage, huh? Haha, how foolish!" The Baron's laughing manner took a whole turn; his words at the end were laced with extreme coldness. Murderous intent filled the room, and the aura felt suffocating, "Remember, boy! I have no need for your so-called bounty that the nobles have put on your head. You will leave my territory at once, but do not think for a second that you would have lived if not for my mercy." his words sent chills down Gresvin's spine.
Gresvin nodded in response. "Leave!" the Baron shouted. He had gotten what he wanted. "
This is the boy, huh? To think such a fragile thing hoped to assassinate the King? Hmpf! These pompous nobles sure are getting more ridiculous." He furrowed his brows as he watched Gresvin leave.
Baron Reinhardt had no reason to see the traitor, but the news intrigued him, and as such, he wanted to see the man for himself; even getting a few coins was only for the game.