For a moment, many nobles, who appeared haughty and looked down upon others, secretly sent people to inquire about the situation.
Those without combat talents were even more anxious, desperately seeking channels to make purchases.
At a grand feast hosted by the royal family, numerous nobles were invited to enjoy the festivities, raising their glasses in cheer amidst the bustling atmosphere.
A lady in a flowing white gown, who moved with grace, took a delicate pastry from the table and whispered to her companions.
“Alice, do you know about that merchant? I heard the claims are quite real; he can truly grant magical talents.”
“Well, who doesn’t know? The entire circle is discussing it. But that merchant is enforcing a purchase limit and has a long queue. I offered several times the price, yet he refused to sell to me. Does he not know my background? He is completely ignorant of social dynamics.”
Lady Coffeeport sighed, her expression troubled. “Sigh, my useless son has no talent at all. I wanted to find a way to purchase a talent in advance. If it really is that miraculous, then it must be in scarce supply. Selling it to commoners would just be a waste.”
Alice rolled her eyes and suddenly remembered something. “Isn’t Viscount Hosorn organizing some merchant caravan? Perhaps he knows something; we might as well ask him.”
Lady Coffeeport understood and thanked Alice. She decided that once the banquet was over, she would personally visit Viscount Hosorn.
*
On the other side, Hosorn was furious, angrily sweeping everything off the table, shattering it all on the floor.
“Find out who that person is! Who dares to sabotage my plans?”
He ground his teeth, unable to suppress the anger boiling within him.
He had thought that by eliminating the top merchant Wallis, his caravan would run smoothly and rake in gold coins. To his surprise, he encountered a stumbling block.
“My lord, Lady Coffeeport has sent a message requesting an audience with you.”
Hosorn’s eyes lit up as he hastily rose from his seat—after all, she was an earl’s wife, a person he rarely encountered.
As he strode out of the room, his demeanor shifted to a slow and composed grace, exuding an air of dignity.
“Madam, is there something important you wish to discuss? Please, take a seat, and let us enjoy some tea while you explain.”
He waved, directing a servant to fetch the finest tea leaves.
Lady Coffeeport waved her hand, diving straight into the topic. “I do have something important to discuss.”
Hosorn could hardly contain his inner excitement; securing connections with the earl’s wife would be a significant boost to his reputation at royal gatherings.
He cleared his throat, sitting up straight. “Please, go ahead. If it is within my power, I will see to it.”
“Are you aware of my hopeless son? He has been unable to absorb magical energy. I heard someone is selling something lately that can heal magical cores. If you have any information, please let the earl’s house know. Thank you.”
Hosorn’s expression stiffened with her words; his mouth twitched as he abruptly stood up.
Lady Coffeeport jumped in surprise and asked, “What’s wrong with you?”
Hosorn forced himself to maintain his decorum, exchanged a few polite words, and then ushered Lady Coffeeport out of the house.
Watching her carriage disappear, he could no longer contain his fury, his face twisted in rage.
Damn it, who could it be?
Whoever disrupted his plans would not escape his wrath!
After throwing a tantrum, Hosorn clenched his teeth as he sat down.
He couldn’t believe that someone could boast to such an extent. If such a treasure truly existed, why had it only appeared now?
It was hiding away, just like a rat that couldn’t show its face.
“Let’s go. Take me to where that person is selling.”
Hosorn stood up and exited the estate, directly stopping a carriage on the way.
“There’s someone setting up a stall lately, you know…”
Before he could finish, the coachman interrupted, “Where are you headed? Please hold on tight; it’s been quite the commotion lately, with people coming every day. It’s well-known.”
Hosorn was slightly displeased and ordered him to be quiet, not wanting to hear more.
The coachman grimaced and fell silent.
As he rode in the carriage, they turned into an alley, only to be blocked by the crowd.
The surge of people ahead was overwhelming; there was no way for the carriage, or even for people, to pass through. It was as chaotic as a bustling market.
The coachman helplessly told Hosorn, “Sir, it’s impossible to get through up ahead. You might as well get down and wait in line.”
“It has been packed for days, and it never seems to thin out; the line just keeps getting longer every day.”
Hosorn stepped down from the carriage, but before he could steady himself, he was bumped into by someone rushing past, nearly causing him to fall.
His face darkened. How dare this commoner not recognize that he is a viscount and disrespect him like that!
Just as he was about to march over to give the commoner a piece of his mind, another burly man pushed past him, cutting in front.
At this point, Hosorn truly could not take it anymore. He had always been pampered, looking down upon commoners.
With a sharp draw, he unsheathed his sword, magical energy churning around him, and swung at the burly man who had bumped into him.
Most of the people in line were ordinary folks with no magical cores, hardly having time to react.
A scream pierced through the crowd as the burly man’s shoulder was severely slashed. In an instant, the previously noisy crowd fell silent.
The strong smell of blood spread through the air; the blow was powerful enough to expose bone through flesh, making the man clutch his arm in agony.
Hosorn retracted his sword, his eyebrows nearly shooting up in triumph. At this moment, many onlookers turned their attention to him, and he reveled in their gazes.
That’s more like it; commoners should regard nobles with respect. What a rude interruption that was!