Winter Lord: Starting with Daily Intelligence

Chapter 60: All I do is eat and drink
The banquet hall was brightly lit and resplendent with gold.

The high dome was illuminated by chandeliers made of hundreds of magic crystals, making the entire hall bright.

The walls were covered with tapestries woven with gold thread, each embroidered with the coat of arms of the Firth family.

A silk tablecloth was laid on the long table, and silverware and glass cups were neatly arranged.

The servants standing by the wall carried dishes in and out.

The air was filled with the aroma of meat and wine.

The dishes were outrageously luxurious.

Roasted snow mountain deer, its fat sizzling beneath its golden skin; a whole snow rock bear rib served, the meat thick and heavy, piled up like a small mountain on a silver plate...

There are also wines favored by southern nobles, which are rarely seen in the north, yet they are constantly being poured into crystal glasses here.

Such a grand spectacle is something you might not even see at a banquet in a southern noble's castle, let alone in the North.

This demonstrates the profound heritage of the Firth family as a long-established noble family in the North.

But this extravagance stands out starkly in the harsh, resource-scarce North.

Even before the banquet began, many local nobles in the North had already frowned.

Count Firth sat in the main seat, looking like a round ball of flesh.

A gold-threaded silk robe wrapped his plump body, the collar slightly open, and the sheen of oil shone from his forehead all the way to his chest.

He casually rested his hands on the armrests of the chair, his ten fingers adorned with magic crystal rings, his knuckles red from being squeezed together.

He was chuckling like a drunken pig, his laughter echoing through the hall.

"Lord Firth is exceptionally wise and insightful; the North will surely prosper because of you!"

"If it weren't for the adults protecting us, we minor nobles would be completely lost!"

The speakers were pioneering nobles from the south.

They were all dressed in gorgeous clothes, their hair was perfectly styled, and their manners were as elaborate as if they were at a royal banquet.

But they had no military achievements and no foothold in the North.

Aside from flattery and fawning, he was practically useless.

They surrounded Earl Firth, taking turns praising him.

Some say he has the demeanor of a crown prince, while others boast that he has the charisma of a former king.

Some even said he could "make the North great again."

Count Firth was grinning from ear to ear, and even his hand holding the wine glass was trembling.

He laughed and retorted, but choked on his drink and spat out half of it.

But what pleased him most was Zachary Diaz's praise.

"Lord Firth's Snow Eagle assembly and command this time was well-organized and can be called a model in the North. Even my father would probably feel ashamed if he were here."

That sentence made Firth feel completely elated.

Zachary is a member of the Diaz family.

That's one of the eight great families of the empire, on par with Edmund!

With people of such noble birth praising him, how could he not become arrogant?
"Hahaha! Not at all, I was just doing my duty!"

He waved his hand, but his mouth was crooked with laughter.

In one corner of the banquet hall, the lights were dim and the atmosphere was much quieter.

Several nobles dressed in Northern military robes sat quietly, watching the group at the main table fawn over each other, their faces as gloomy as the sky before a blizzard.

They were all former retainers of the Firth family and among the earliest vassals of the Firth family.

Back then, I followed the old man to conquer the icy plains, fight monsters, and annihilate barbarian tribes. Now, I can only sit here, watching my position as the head of the family being occupied by a round, incompetent fool, surrounded by a group of sycophantic southerners.

"...If the master were still alive, he would have kicked this despicable scene over long ago." The oldest general muttered in a low voice, his eyes revealing a chill.

A scruffy-bearded man next to him sneered: "Aside from eating, drinking, and using those weak southern accents, have you ever seen them carry a sword?"

“Never seen them.” Another answered readily. “Their armor is so shiny it’s like that of a theatrical actor. They’re completely unmarked. Even in battle, they’d probably have to wipe off every drop of blood they got on their skin.”

Their whispers, a mixture of the smells of alcohol and the chill of the air, seemed out of place in the bustling banquet hall.

"The reputation of the Firth family was earned by the master with his life."

"It's not for him to... open some kind of Southern Dance Hall."

They fell silent more and more as they spoke, their eyes filled with suppressed anger and disappointment.

They also tried to persuade the new earl to teach him how to train troops and handle military and political affairs, and even offered to do it themselves.

But the fat man wouldn't listen at all.

They're either hosting a banquet or taking a fragrant bath.

At most, the servants would give a perfunctory reply like, "I'm busy."

They remained silent, but they all knew that if things continued like this, the Firth family would be in serious trouble, especially given the recent turmoil in the North.

The oppressive atmosphere in the corner seemed particularly jarring in the banquet hall.

Earl Kovs didn't even notice.

He was surrounded by southern nobles, laughing so hard his eyes were almost closed, and the flesh on his face jiggled.

Even if someone reminded him that the old nobles from the North were in a bad mood, he would just wave his hand dismissively.

"Them?" He smirked. "A bunch of old fogies, their minds still filled with the fighting and killing from decades ago."

In his view, these people were not only useless, but also hindered his work.

They were dressed in rags, spoke in a way that was unpleasant to hear, and always had a long face, as if someone owed them thousands of gold coins.

He has complained publicly more than once: "My grandfather followed the late emperor to destroy the Snow Kingdom, and that's how he finished all the work I've done in my life!"

The people of the North are truly powerful; all they do all day is eat and drink, nothing else!
What the hell are you doing? Who are you trying to earn money for? Are you risking your life? Stop messing around!

Halfway through the banquet, the music gradually increased in volume.

The magic crystal lamps shimmered with iridescent light, and the nobles clinked glasses and laughed continuously.

Just as everyone was getting into the swing of things, Zachary took a wine glass and approached the head of the table.

He spoke casually and lightly: "By the way, I wonder if Your Excellency has ever heard of... 'Louis Calvin'?"

Earl Firth's brow twitched, a bit of meat still clinging to his lips, and he mumbled, "Who?"

“Oh?” Zachary feigned surprise. “It seems he didn’t visit you in person, nor did he send an invitation.”

Almost all the nobles of Xuefeng County have arrived, yet he hasn't been seen at all. Do they think this gathering is beneath his dignity?

Count Firth's smile faltered slightly.

Zachary squinted: "It is said that he was sent to the North at a young age to 'train', but in reality he does not manage military affairs or train troops. The troops under his command are all just for show by his family."

He lowered his voice, as if he were whispering, yet deliberately making sure that the surrounding nobles could hear him:

"He was said to be an abandoned son sent here by his family to be exiled, but after he arrived in the North, he spent his days in the castle drinking tea and writing poetry, and even complained that his butt hurt when riding a horse."

Several southern nobles around them revealed mocking expressions, and someone whispered in agreement: "Noble young masters are bound to be aloof."

Someone chuckled: "Could it be that Louis is planning to show up only after the banquet is over, so he can avoid having to go through the formalities?"

"Hmph, who is this person who doesn't even respect me, the governor of Xuefeng County?" Count Firth snorted and slammed his wine cup down on the table.

(End of this chapter)