Lord blessed by the elves

Chapter 139 Other Lands
Amidst the waves of glory, in a corner of the crowd, Bran Haynes' face was slightly contorted with intense jealousy, his eyes reddening as he stared intently at the figure standing under the spotlight.

Once upon a time, the "good-for-nothing" he used to humiliate and mock is now the center of attention, while he himself seems to have become an insignificant passerby.

A heavy hand landed on his shoulder.

It was his father, the Wolf-hair Knight Haynes.

Haines wore a cold smile that clashed with the atmosphere around him. He casually raised his glass, as if to greet Kruze in the room, but actually cleverly concealed the movement of his lips. His deep, clear voice reached Bran's ears:

"Don't rush, stay calm. The best is yet to come."

Upon hearing this, Bran's eyes flashed with a mixture of anticipation and malice, and his previously tense body relaxed slightly. He took the wine glass handed to him by the servant, his fingertips trembling with excitement, and whispered, "Father, you mean...?"

A sinister smile curled at the corner of Haines's lips, his gaze still fixed on Kruse, who was bowing humbly in the distance, as if admiring some perfect porcelain about to shatter.

"Be patient, my son. The higher the glory climbs, the harder the fall. We just need to... wait for the show to begin."

As the applause subsided, Kruse calmly rose under the watchful eyes of the crowd and bowed once again in the direction of Count Campino and Lady Monica.

He could feel the gazes directed at him becoming more complex, containing admiration, curiosity, and, of course, an undeniable air of jealousy and scrutiny.

Lady Monica stepped forward slowly and personally handed a glass of gleaming golden fruit wine to Kruse, her gesture intimate and natural, drawing subtle glances from many onlookers. "It seems my judgment has never been wrong," she said softly, yet clearly enough for the nearby nobles to hear. "This song, 'With You,' seems to have gained even more power through your hands."

Just then, a slightly shrill voice rang out, neither too loud nor too soft, perfectly shattering the harmonious atmosphere:

"Little Lion Kruze's piano skills are truly amazing. He must have spent countless hours practicing to achieve this, right?"

The crowd turned to look and saw the Wolf-hair Knight, Haynes, carrying a wine glass and wearing a seemingly amiable smile, slowly walking out from the crowd.

His gaze, however, was sharp as a knife, piercing straight at Kruze.

“But…” He changed the subject, raising his voice slightly to attract more attention, “I’m a little curious. The Reyes family is known for its strict discipline and martial prowess. I wonder where Young Master Kruze learned such a… unique tune? It doesn’t seem to be a common style in our country. It sounds more like a foreign tune from the southern city-states or even more distant regions.”

He paused deliberately, looked around at the nobles who looked thoughtful after his words, and then continued slowly, "As we all know, the border has not been peaceful lately. Some things and people that shouldn't be there seem to be trying to infiltrate our circle. Such exquisite exotic music, created out of thin air by a young man, is truly... admirable, but also a little suspicious."

These words, though seemingly complimentary, are in fact extremely malicious.

It subtly suggests that Kruse's music has questionable origins and may even involve foreign forces or some secret lineage not recognized by the mainstream.

At this sensitive time, especially at a banquet that has just been awarded medals and emphasizes loyalty and merit, such veiled accusations are enough to instantly push a young man who has just begun to make a name for himself into the eye of the storm.

In an instant, the atmosphere in the hall froze. Many nobles looked at Kruze and Reyes, whose faces had darkened instantly, with scrutiny and suspicion.

Count Campino paused slightly as he stroked the scepter, his gaze becoming more profound.

Hayes maintained a calm exterior, but inwardly he was sneering.

He wanted to see how this sudden "genius" would wash away the mudslinging against him concerning his loyalty and origins.

Bran, standing behind him, could barely contain the glee on his face.

All eyes were once again focused on Kruze, but this time, the pressure in those eyes was a hundred times heavier than before.

Kruse sneered inwardly, but maintained his calm and composed demeanor on the surface.

He never expected that at this glorious moment of the awarding ceremony, the Wolf-hair Knight Haynes would be so eager to jump out and cause trouble, revealing his sinister intentions.

He quickly sifted through musical memories from another world in his mind, and combined this with his understanding and adaptation to harpsichord playing techniques during this period, and several pieces with different styles, but which could also play a role at this moment, had already taken shape in his mind.

Faced with Haines' seemingly casual yet actually venomous questioning, Kruse did not immediately panic and defend himself. Instead, he slightly raised his chin, his face displaying just the right amount of confusion and a polite retort, his voice echoing clearly in the suddenly quiet hall:
"Your Excellency Haynes, you assert that this piece comes from a foreign land, and even imply that it is related to instability on the border... I am very puzzled and would like to ask you, on what basis did you make such a judgment? Is it the musical structure? The chord progression? Or a certain rhythmic pattern?"

Before Haynes could gather his thoughts in reply, he gracefully turned and sat down again before the magnificent harpsichord.

His slender fingers hovered lightly over the black and white piano keys. He turned his head, his gaze sweeping over the somber-faced Haynes, then over the deep-set eyes of Count Campino in the main seat, and all the guests who held their breath in suspense, and announced in a clear voice:

"Since Your Excellency Haynes is so interested in the 'origin' of music, then please allow me to humbly perform a few more pieces."

Kruse's voice was calm and even. He took a deep breath and his fingertips fell on the keys again.

This time, the melody carried a completely different flavor, with a free and casual rhythm, subtly revealing a sense of desolation and wandering.

"Listen, everyone!" he said clearly as he played a few key chords and melodic fragments. "These are tunes that I have heard by chance, often used by bards from foreign lands. They mostly play them on portable harps, and the melodies are mostly in minor keys. The emotions tend to be melancholic and mysterious, or they tell stories of distant lands and personal joys and sorrows."

These few notes, imbued with an exotic flavor, immediately revealed a knowing look to the nobles present.

This was quite different from the rigorous and magnificent court music they usually listened to.

Immediately afterwards, Kruse changed the pressure of his fingers and played several phrases with the same basic notes, but with rearranged harmony and rhythm.

(End of this chapter)