Chapter 359: Chapter 238: Following Duke Augustus, There’s Meat to Eat (Part 2)

Of course, these were all unwritten rules; on the surface, everything was still cordial.

It was understandable that Matthew felt a bit insecure.

Fang Zhen saw this and made a decision.

’Matthew is a good man,’ he thought. ’He’s intelligent, and rarer still, he’s upright and kind. You can tell from his daily conduct and conversation that it isn’t an act—he’s genuinely good-hearted.’

It was just that Matthew had likely spent too long in the church. He had little experience with conflict and didn’t quite grasp the cruel nature of competition. Furthermore, as the illegitimate son of a noble, he had probably harbored a bit of an inferiority complex from a young age and lacked confidence.

Still, he was a good man—upright and kind—and that was enough.

Fang Zhen decided to give Matthew a leg up when the opportunity arose.

At the very least, he would ensure Matthew had a firm foothold in the territories under his control.

This was partly an acknowledgment of Matthew’s character, and partly a favor to Dalia.

These thoughts flashed through Fang Zhen’s mind in an instant, without delaying his actions in the slightest.

He gave a slight nod and said to Bishop Maldon, "Alright."

"Lord Fang Zhen, shall we dismount and speak in the church?" When addressing Fang Zhen, Maldon’s attitude was a complete reversal of how he had treated Matthew. His expression softened into a warm smile, as if touched by a spring breeze, and his voice became gentle, shedding the authoritative tone he used for sermons.

Fang Zhen nodded, and his Attendant, Ayo, immediately came over to help him dismount.

The key figures on Fang Zhen’s side all dismounted, preparing for the negotiations. 𝚏𝗿𝗲𝐞𝐰𝚎𝕓𝐧𝚘𝘃𝗲𝐥.𝐜𝚘𝕞

Mansa, Agatha, Matthew, Ottis, Tahar, and the others dismounted in succession, forming a negotiation party that followed Fang Zhen toward the church.

Tahar and Fang Zhen’s personal guard, Ayo, struggled to carry two heavy leather cases.

Finn, the other Knights, and the Mages of the Mage Corps who remained behind were ordered to stand by, maintaining the army’s stability to prevent any conflict with Quentin’s Army from erupting over minor frictions.

On the side of Quentin’s Army, the Count and his nobles also dismounted. Led by the Bishop, the two parties made their way to the Tade Church.

Fang Zhen and his retinue entered the church.

The church interior was not large, with room for only a few dozen people. It was normally used for sermons, but now a long conference table had been brought in from somewhere, flanked by two rows of chairs for the negotiations between Fang Zhen and Quentin.

Perhaps feeling that reconfiguring the church for secular affairs was problematic—lest people think the clergy were fawning over worldly power—Bishop Maldon was the first to speak. "This arrangement in the church is only temporary," he explained. "I believe God desires peace in this world, not conflict. If we can do something in the name of peace, God is tolerant and will allow it."

"Furthermore, under God’s watch, I trust that both of you gentlemen will remain restrained and sincere. This is an outcome the Church also hopes to see."

Fang Zhen let out a soft chuckle, seeing right through Maldon’s intentions.

However, his status was implicitly the highest among all present, so there was no need to be blunt. Some things are better left unsaid if you want to remain on good terms.

"You’ve been very thoughtful, Bishop Maldon," Fang Zhen said.

"It is my duty, my duty," Maldon replied at once. But perhaps feeling this lacked gravitas, he added with a solemn expression, "God loves all of humanity, and we, as His servants, love humanity as well."

"God will understand our benevolent intentions."

Fang Zhen gave another slight smile.

While they spoke, the group had already arrived at the long table that formed the centerpiece of the room.

Fang Zhen, Mansa, and their party sat on the right side of the table, while Count Quentin took the left.

Their respective personal guards stood at attention behind them.

This was local custom: the host sat on the left, the guest on the right. The arrangement was perfectly reasonable.

Though Fang Zhen was a guest of formidable power and background, he had no intention of disrespecting their customs.

Once both parties were seated, Fang Zhen and Quentin took their places at the heads of their respective sides of the long table, facing one another.

Quentin was still visibly nervous. His gaze flickered about, not quite daring to meet Fang Zhen’s directly.

Bishop Maldon, determined to stay out of the messy affair, quickly found an excuse to leave. "Well then, please, you two gentlemen may begin. I have some church matters to discuss with the Priest, so I shall not disturb you."

Count Quentin took a few deep breaths and finally summoned his courage to look at Fang Zhen.

"Lord... Fang Zhen," he began, "may I ask... for what purpose have you come to Quentin Territory?"

"If you are here to ’borrow’ grain and Gold Ropes from Quentin, well... Quentin Territory is not in a good state right now. If you insist on your demands, I will..." Quentin trailed off.

Fang Zhen lifted his gaze to meet Quentin’s.

’So what? You’ll declare war?’

But a single look from Fang Zhen was enough to cow him. Quentin’s eyes immediately darted away, and his voice lost its conviction.

"...I will have to muster what I can from the territory. I can offer you military supplies up to a value of three hundred Gold Ropes, and ten days’ worth of rations for a thousand men. That is all."

Fang Zhen was taken aback for a second, nearly losing his composure and bursting out laughing.

He had thought Count Quentin was about to make a threat, but instead he just meekly accepted his fate and offered to pay up.

He had assumed this would be a negotiation between equals. Now he realized Quentin had come simply to negotiate how much to pay.

’What is this?’ Fang Zhen wondered. ’Just threaten me and you’ll lie down and take it?’

Fang Zhen fought to suppress a laugh, struggling to keep a straight face.

He stared at Quentin for a long moment.

Under Fang Zhen’s gaze, Quentin grew increasingly unnerved, a cold sweat breaking out on his forehead. He wondered if the amount he offered was not to Fang Zhen’s satisfaction.

After a moment, Fang Zhen’s voice boomed, deep and serious.

"What kind of person do you take me for?" Fang Zhen leaned forward and asked suddenly.

Even more sweat beaded on Quentin’s forehead. He couldn’t help but shrink back in his chair, trying to pull away from Fang Zhen’s imposing presence.

Quentin was visibly sweating now, beads the size of peas forming on his forehead, though he seemed oblivious.

"My lord, that is nearly the limit of what Quentin Territory can offer! We border the Balenzuo Duchy and have had frequent skirmishes. We’ve fought for so long that we are simply out of funds."

"If we squeeze the common folk any harder, people will start to die. Riots could break out, which would strain our military funds even further and could even threaten my rule," Quentin explained.

Fighting through his fear and the immense pressure, Quentin pulled out a handkerchief to wipe away the sweat. "Alright, how about this... I can provide an additional five hundred Gold Ropes, and another ten days of rations. That is the absolute most I can offer. I truly have nothing more."

Fang Zhen slowly shook his head.

In this situation, a wicked impulse suddenly struck Fang Zhen.

He slammed both hands down hard on the table.

SLAM!

The sharp sound echoed through the room, and the entire row of nobles on Quentin’s side flinched as one.

"Do you even know why I’ve come to Quentin Territory?" Fang Zhen asked, his voice low and resonant.

Baffled and unsure how he had offended Fang Zhen, Quentin shook his head repeatedly.

"I came to Quentin Territory for three things, and three things only."

"Fairness!"

"Fairness!"

"And more fucking fairness!"

Fang Zhen delivered the classic, dramatic line with a perfectly straight face.

With that, he shouted, "Tahar! Ayo!"

"Coming!"

The Knight Tahar, clearly thriving under Fang Zhen’s command, stood up. With some effort, he heaved two heavy leather cases forward and, with a loud THUD, slammed them onto the table between Fang Zhen and Quentin.

The sound was deafening.

Quentin flinched, nearly jumping out of his chair. One of the more fainthearted nobles from Quentin Territory thought Fang Zhen was about to strike and went limp, slumping bonelessly in his seat.

Fang Zhen paid them no mind. He stood and, with a single, fluid motion, unlatched the cases.

Instantly, the dazzling gleam of silver bars flooded the room, illuminating the faces of Quentin and his nobles.