Wizard: I Have a World of the Dead

"Margaret," said the girl in the pink dress, her eyes shining, "I see Margaret."

Elsa tapped her finger lightly on the wine glass, her face expressionless.

"She looks so beautiful today," the girl in the pink dress said with genuine admiration, tinged with a hint of envy.

"You didn't see the necklace she was wearing around her neck. I've never seen such a beautiful necklace. That ruby, it's this big—" she gestured with her hand to show the size.

"Even Mrs. Mil saw it; I heard her say it herself when I passed by—"

She paused deliberately, then stretched out her hand with her five fingers spread wide.

"At least five hundred gold coins. That's what Mrs. Mil said."

Several people gasped at the same time.

Five hundred gold coins. That's about the amount of taxes Wallenberg collects in a year or two, right?

A minor nobleman held a wine glass, his expression quite complex.

He chuckled dryly, his tone carrying a hint of bitterness that he couldn't quite muster: "This illegitimate daughter... she's really lucky this time. To have picked up such a generous baron."

A nosy young lady next to Elsa nudged her with her elbow, lowered her voice, and asked with a mischievous smile, "Any regrets it?"

Elsa's face stiffened for a moment, but before she could answer, a young nobleman sitting opposite her scoffed, "What's there to regret?"

He swirled his wine glass, his tone dismissive: "How much tax revenue does Wallenberg generate in a year? To spend such a huge sum just to please a woman, I wonder what Wallenberg will eat for the next few years."

"That's right, that's right." Another minor nobleman immediately chimed in, his voice not too loud, as if afraid that those around him wouldn't hear him, "After all, he's just a second son who hastily ascended to the throne."

He raised his voice slightly: "You can tell from how shamelessly he can claim credit for the Knight of Gael that he is not only incompetent but also lacks wisdom."

After a brief moment of surprise, the Southern noble circles generally believed that Lynch had boasted about the previous extermination of the Asdok and the rescue of Margaret.

After all, everyone knows that Lin Qi is just a nobleman's second son who hastily ascended to the throne and has not even received a few months of knightly training. How could he possibly have such strength?

It was mostly done by Gael, who was loyal to him, but Lynch ultimately claimed the credit for it.

"Yes." The young nobleman at the front couldn't hide his sarcasm: "A guy who hasn't received a few months of knightly training claims to have wiped out dozens of Asdokians all by himself."

"It's unbelievable that he could even say that. He's not only incompetent but also stupid, and his lies are illogical."

Elsa's complexion improved somewhat. She picked up her glass, took a sip, and a faint smile returned to her lips.

Just then, a commotion arose from the direction of the hall entrance.

As if drawn by something, everyone's gaze turned in the same direction, and whispers rose and fell like waves.

Elsa and her companions also looked in that direction.

Two people had just walked in at the entrance.

The man was dressed in a dark gray suit. He was tall and slender with broad shoulders and long legs, and his steps were composed.

His features were exceptionally clear in the candlelight, with deep brow bones, a straight nose, and a sharp jawline.

His eyes were calm and bright, scanning the hall unhurriedly, as if he were looking at a landscape that had nothing to do with him.

The woman linked arms with him, her deep blue skirt spreading out at her feet, the silver embroidery shimmering in the lamplight.

Around her neck, a ruby ​​necklace burned in the light of hundreds of candles, its deep red color like a flower growing from her collarbone, intense yet serene.

The two people standing together looked like a newly painted portrait.

There was a brief moment of silence in the hall.

Then, as if a floodgate had been opened, praise poured in from all directions.

"This is the new lord of Wallenberg? He doesn't seem like the rumored one..."

"Miss Margaret, you look absolutely stunning tonight."

The surrounding nobles crowded around, all smiles and speaking warmly.

Regardless of whether Lynch's previous achievements were exaggerated, he was always a genuine nobleman and baron.

Elsa watched the figure surrounded by the crowd, her fingers unconsciously tightening around her wine glass.

He seems to have changed?

It's not about a change in appearance, but something deeper and more indescribable.

The young man who used to stand before her with a somewhat ingratiating smile is almost like a completely different person from the noblewoman who now moves with composure and poise in the crowd.

A sudden, inexplicable pang of sorrow welled up in her heart.

Looking at Margaret, who was clinging to his arm, and at the dazzling ruby ​​necklace under the lights, he felt as if something was blocking his chest.

A minor nobleman suddenly said, "Let's go, let's go and say hello to the Baron."

He forced a smile, a smirk playing on his lips. "Now that you're a baron, you can't possibly ignore us old friends, can you?"

The group looked at each other, nodded, picked up their glasses, and walked over there.

However, they had only taken a few steps—

"Excuse me, please make way."

A steady voice came from behind, not loud, but carrying an undeniable weight.

Several young people instinctively moved aside.

A group of richly dressed middle-aged men walked past them.

Leading the way was Baron Barack Hollenfield, Lord of the Riverlands.

He was followed by four or five equally well-dressed men, each with various badges pinned to their chests.

Everyone possesses a composure and dignity that only those who truly wield power possess.

These are true nobles.

A lord who holds real power.

Territories, castles, knights, armies—everything they possessed was real and tangible.

Elsa and her companions, strictly speaking, were merely the relatives of nobles, the family members of nobles.

They were not on the same level as these truly important figures at all; even their parents were mostly just relatives.

As if pushed aside by an invisible force, the young people stepped aside to make way.

Baron Barack walked up to Lynch and said with a friendly smile, "Lynch, you've arrived?"

As a seasoned leader, Barak certainly didn't believe the nonsense that Lynch single-handedly wiped out hordes of Asdokans and rescued Margaret from the bandits' den.

After all, the plot is too dramatic, it's the kind of thing you'd only see in a bard's story.

To accomplish such heroic deeds would require at least knight-level strength.

However, how long has Lin Qi been training with the Cavaliers? At most, it's only been a few months.

Is it possible to be promoted to Cavaliers in just a few months?

How old is he? If I remember correctly, he just turned 15 this year, right?

The youngest knight in the entire kingdom is currently 16 years old, making him the most outstanding genius to have ever appeared in the history of the Kingdom of Lolunt.

Moreover, it took two whole years and nearly a hundred doses of Knight's Flower to achieve this feat.

Logically speaking, Wallenberg's claims don't make sense.

But that's not important.

Ordinary people would only argue about whether Lynch's deeds were true or false, but as a true leader, Barack saw much more—

authority!

Of all the people in Wallenberg, only Knight Gael and Knight Foster currently have the ability to rescue Margaret.

The latter was a villain, and Barak guessed that it was most likely the work of the Knight Gael.

A knight is willing to hand over his great achievements to others, even at the cost of his own honor by lying to help the other party succeed.

What does this tell us?

This shows that Lynch has gained the knight's absolute loyalty and has effectively seized control of the nobleman's power.

A powerful nobleman, who was also his ally, was certainly someone Barak valued.

"Uncle Barak, it's a pleasure to meet you." Lynch bowed slightly, his manners impeccable and his demeanor composed.

The barons behind Barack also stepped forward and greeted Lynch warmly.

Everyone here is a seasoned veteran in the power arena, and of course they know the weight of a powerful aristocrat. Regardless of whether Lin Qi's deeds are true or false, as long as he holds power.

That means they are on the same level as them.

Lin Qi responded to each person's greeting, calling out each person's name accurately and responding to each greeting appropriately.

He was neither obsequious nor arrogant, neither humble nor overbearing, like someone who had spent his entire life in this industry.

He stood there, chatting and laughing with these powerful lords, and his aura was in no way inferior to theirs.

Elsa and the others stood a few steps away, watching this scene with incredibly interesting expressions on their faces.

It should be noted that those who were chatting warmly with Lin Qi were all powerful figures in the Southern Territory, wielding real authority.

Noble families like theirs weren't even qualified to speak to these beings.

Now, Lin Qi, the second son of a nobleman whom they once looked down upon, is chatting and laughing with these high-ranking figures.

envious.

Hey.

unwilling.

The expressions of those young people, flickering in the candlelight, were as complex as a painting with mismixed colors.

A minor nobleman opened his mouth, hesitated for a long time, and finally managed to squeeze out a sentence: "...lucky fellow."

His voice was very low, but the sourness in his tone could be smelled even from several steps away.

"Pretending to be something they're not, they're quite convincing," another person chimed in, but in a much softer voice.

However, before they could recover from the huge sense of disparity in their identities...

Just then, a voice came from deep within the hall.

There was no sound, but the entire hall fell silent.

"Is it Baron Lynch who has arrived?"

The crowd seemed to be parted by an invisible hand, automatically separating to both sides.

An elderly man walked out from the depths of the hall.

He wore a deep red tuxedo with a black falcon emblem pinned to his chest. It was made of pure gold, heavy and gleaming darkly in the candlelight.

His hair was completely white, but his back was still straight, and his steps were steady and powerful, like an old oak tree rooted on a mountaintop.

Earl Vinhart.

The owner of this manor is also the owner of the entire Southern Territory.