Wizard: I Have a World of the Dead

Several servants followed behind Wienhart, but no one dared to get too close. Wherever he went, the nobles lowered their heads and stepped aside to make way.

Baron Barak and the other powerful lords quickly stepped aside and bowed slightly in greeting.

The Earl walked through the crowd and stood before Lynch.

He stopped and looked the young man up and down.

Those eyes, weathered by time yet still sharp, swept from Lin Qi's face to his shoulder, and from his shoulder to his waist, as if scrutinizing something.

After a moment, Earl Wienhart laughed and said, "You look very much like your father."

"No."

"You are much more handsome than him."

Lynch maintained his composure, neither humble nor arrogant, as if he had not been intimidated by the noble count's aura at all.

He said politely, "Thank you for your praise. My father often mentioned you to me when he was alive. You were once the Sword of Dawn, an idol of all the knights of the South."

Count Vinhart was once a powerful knight, and the reputation of the Sword of Dawn was renowned throughout Lorunt.

However, he suffered a fatal injury decades ago, which greatly reduced his strength. Coupled with old age and physical decline, he has basically lost his former strength.

Despite this, one could still sense the oppressive aura of a powerful figure emanating from his words and actions.

Count Vinhart's gaze deepened slightly.

As the most respected nobleman in the Southern Territory, he exudes an aura of power whether he does so willingly or not.

Even seasoned nobles like Barak would unconsciously bow their heads slightly in his presence, placing themselves in a subordinate position.

However, the young man in front of him seemed completely unaffected.

even...

As if it were an illusion, Wienhardt even felt that the young man in front of him regarded him as an equal.

不 ...

It seems to be at a higher level than him?

Where does this confidence come from?

He was curious.

"Hehehe, that was a long time ago. It's rare that Baron Valen still remembers." Vinhart chuckled.

After a pause, he got to the point: "They sent me a few bottles of fine wine from Ouge Port. If the Baron has nothing to do right now, why don't we go over and have a taste?"

Lin Qi knew that they had come to discuss the matter of the Wind Ridge Pass with him.

He nodded and raised his hand, saying, "Please."

Lynch and Vinnhardt walked side by side through the banquet hall to the deepest part of the hall.

Here is a separate reception area, furnished with several dark brown leather sofas arranged in a semi-circle, with a low coffee table in the center, on which are placed several silver candlesticks.

Two guards stopped at the outer perimeter, and Lynch and the Earl went inside.

Vinhart sat down on the sofa in the center, the back of which was so high that it almost enveloped him.

Lin Qi sat down opposite him, his posture composed, generous, and appropriate.

A maidservant gracefully approached carrying a silver tray with two silver goblets and a slender-necked silver wine jug on it.

She knelt before the coffee table, tilted the wine bottle, and slowly poured the dark red liquid into the glass, which gleamed with an amber luster under the candlelight.

The aroma of the wine spread as it was poured, rich and lingering, with a hint of fruity sweetness.

Vinhart said enthusiastically, "Try it. It's grapes from Brudan, picked last year. In the whole kingdom, only Ougo Port can still make this kind of wine."

Lin Qi picked up his wine glass and took a sip.

The wine is smooth on the palate, initially offering a sweet fruity aroma, followed by a subtle tannin astringency, and finally leaving a long, lingering sweetness deep in the throat, making it delicious and fragrant.

He put down his glass, nodded, and exclaimed, "It's really good."

Vinhart smiled, his wrinkles crinkling together like a crumpled old map: "If the Baron likes it, I'll have someone send you a few barrels later."

Lin Qi also laughed and said, "That would be my honor."

Vinhart waved his hand, his tone becoming casual: "It's nothing. It's just something you can buy with money."

"In this world, problems that can be solved with money are minor problems."

He paused, then continued, "However, now... due to the impact of the war, there are some problems. Many trade routes have been cut off. Wine from the west can't be transported in, and spices from the south can't get in either."

At this point, he suddenly changed the subject, as if casually asking about a trivial matter: "I heard there's been trouble at Fengji Pass as well?"

Lynch's fingers paused slightly on the armrest of the sofa.

Has the main course been served yet?

He nodded, his expression unchanged: "That's true."

"Not long ago, a group of Asdokians, whose origins are unknown, attacked the pass. The garrison was caught off guard and, in a moment of carelessness, allowed those madmen to seize the pass."

"Do you need any help?" Wienhart asked.

His tone was casual, as if he were asking how the weather was today.

Lin Qi did not answer immediately. He picked up his glass, took another sip, let the liquid linger on his tongue for a moment, and then slowly swallowed.

He knew this was a confrontation with him.

It seemed like a multiple-choice question, but in reality, they only gave him one answer.

Lin Qi pondered for a moment.

In fact, he didn't care about this attitude, since he never intended to get involved in this controversy.

However, as a baron, he had to give an account to both internal and external parties, and he had to demand the benefits he was entitled to.

This was predetermined by his identity.

Instead of answering directly, Lynch asked in return, "Are you confident?"

Wienhart raised an eyebrow slightly.

He had initially thought the conversation would be simple. Wallenberg was merely a minor baronial estate, completely outmatched in size and powerless to refute him.

But the young man's answer surprised him.

It wasn't a quick agreement, nor a polite refusal, but rather a declaration of my stance—

At the Wind Ridge Pass, he was in charge.

Vinhart leaned back on the sofa, his fingers lightly tapping the armrest, making a very soft "tap, tap" sound. He looked at Lynch, his scrutiny deepening.

Then he chuckled softly and countered, "Why does the Baron think I'm not confident?"

Lynch shrugged. "The Earl himself told me."

Wienhart looked puzzled.

Lynch's voice was calm and unhurried: "I think if the Earl were truly so confident, he wouldn't have waited until now, would he?"

Leaving Lynch aside, Wallenberg really doesn't have much leverage to negotiate with him.

But there is war in the north, and there is the royal signboard.

If Wallenberg holds the pass and calls upon the nobles in the south who are loyal to the royal family to resist the rebels, it will definitely cause Vienhardt a lot of trouble.

The air seemed to fall silent for a moment, and the count's smile paused briefly.

Lynch continued, "Any race that has existed for a thousand years has its unusual aspects. Your Excellency, you must be careful."

"Just like you said, problems that can be solved with money are just minor issues. Don't let small things cause you to lose big ones."

His voice was understated, yet his tone was earnest.

Wienhart frowned slightly.

He was becoming increasingly curious about the young man in front of him.

Such an aura, such composure and steadiness, is in no way inferior to any mature nobleman in the Southern Territory, yet he doesn't seem like a second son of a nobleman who hastily ascended to the throne and lacks ability.

and...

Wienhart had a vague feeling that he wasn't just using other people's influence to create a winning hand out of thin air; he seemed to have real confidence.

Where does this impoverished minor nobleman, a baron with only two knights, get the confidence to challenge him?

Wienhart was very curious.

After a moment's thought, Vinhardt nodded: "I have taken your advice to heart."

He paused, then continued, "Now, let's talk about the specifics of what price I'll have to pay to help the Baron take Wind Ridge Pass."

Lin Qi put down his wine glass and nodded slightly.

Just as they were preparing to make an offer and discuss the deal in detail, a commotion suddenly broke out outside.

Lynch and Vinhart instinctively looked in that direction.

Outside the reception area, a guest was seen staggering towards them, seemingly drunk. He bumped into several other guests along the way, causing a commotion among the crowd.

Seeing this, a guard immediately stepped forward and reached out to stop him: "Sir, this is—"

He didn't finish his sentence.

Suddenly, a cold light flashed.

It was a short sword, narrow and thin, which slid out from the guest's sleeve, its cold light dancing in the candlelight.

Without warning, without hesitation, it was so fast that it was almost invisible.

The sword blade sliced ​​across the guard's throat as easily as cutting through a piece of cloth.

The guard's eyes widened suddenly, he made a "hoarse" sound, and covered his throat with both hands, blood gushing out from between his fingers.

Then he slumped down and hit the ground with a dull thud.

"Assassin...assassin!"

"Assassin! Assassin!"

The guests who were drinking nearby screamed loudly.

next second.

The entire banquet hall erupted into chaos instantly.