I Am the God of Games

Chapter 282 The Empire Might Be the Biggest Loser

Instead of the damp, dark dungeon he imagined, Basil instead found himself confined to a well-decorated room.

Even if he knew all along that Lancaster wouldn’t overstep boundaries since he was still an envoy of the Valla Empire in name, Basil knew that there were no lack of reckless maniacs and imbeciles who lacked a few strings in their heads.

And most of the time, exhorting from ministers, baseless remarks or even ideas that pop up out of nowhere could get the authority to rid themselves of the envoy, who was a thorn in their side.

That was why a successful diplomatic corps would always have their actions praised in various legends.

After all, too few diplomatic corps could be considered successful.

Since this world has no agreement to not kill the messenger, no envoy sent to declare war could return alive.

Now, Basil stroked his beard as he pondered.

His visit to Lancaster was nothing as radical as a call to arms, but there wasn’t any goodwill either— Lancaster leaders would know that very well, just as the mayor didn’t share any kind intentions.

From that perspective, he was now caught in dire danger.

“Damn it, it’s the fault of all those imperial military thugs!”

Basil’s hand shuddered at the thought of his head rolling and accidentally pulled out a few strands of beard, causing him to grit his teeth in the pain. “Boasting about how good they are, only to get done in when Lancaster sent out a single clown! Useless, all of them! I’m telling on them to the emperor if I ever get back!”

He could have thrown his weight around if his escorting knights didn’t get knocked out and himself ushered into the mayor’s residence by the Lancaster city watch, or at least not be confined so easily.

But frustrations remained frustrations. Basil was helpless now, and could only sit and watch as the situation unfolds.

In the very least, he wasn’t dumped unceremoniously into the stockade, meaning that Lancaster was so at odds with the imperial capital that they would go for the throat...

That means he still had a chance...

But even as his thoughts drifted away, someone knocked on his door.

“Who is it?” Basil asked warily.

“My Lord. I’m a footman of this residence. If you don’t mind, the mayor has invited you to the reception room.” The person outside answered. “I would take you there.”

Basil hesitated for a while before opening the door-choosing not to ignore or resist the mayor’s orders.

In the first place, being the type of person whose belief revolved around ‘I won’t have a shot at divine grace since there are so many others’, Basil wasn’t too passionate about religion and went about his Saturday mass casually.

That was why his body wouldn’t be divinely blessed, and he would be killed with a single punch.

He really wouldn’t take that risk.

*

*

*

A plain footman stood outside the door.

He bowed when Basil showed his face, gestured invitingly before turning around.

Hesitating for a moment again and realizing that the footman was not going to wait for him, the old man quickly followed.

Soon, he arrived at the reception room, where Corinth Atherton, the mayor of Lancaster was waiting

However, Basil was stunned that any other person was inside the room.

He appeared to be your typical standard-issue young noble who was barely older than fifteen, was dressed for the occasion and appeared to have been conversing with the mayor before Basil arrived.

“It’s been some time, Basil.” Mayor Corinth smiled mildly in greeting when Basil entered. “The last time we’ve met was the emperor’s banquet, was it?”

Younger, less important nobles would have been immediately disarmed by that greeting, even developing a good opinion of Corinth in turn.

However, Basil was absolutely aware that he wasn’t some kindly senior, but an elder who had lived through two dynasties. His mild expression was probably the same business look he would aim at subordinates or juniors, which was why Basil wouldn’t be moved so simply.

Moreover, Basil also felt a mysterious pressure at the sight of the smile, and so went with the flow, yielding and flattering the mayor.

“Yes, and you look the same as always.”

“Likewise. By the way, may I ask what is the purpose of his imperial majesty in sending you, his envoy here Lancaster?” Corinth asked, maintaining his smile. “Be rest assured, I may assist you if there is trouble—my word still holds some authority within Lancaster.”

‘Why don’t you open your storehouses for me to take stock of your food reserves and weapons then?’ Basil retorted inwardly, knowing that he was going to be sent back whence he came if he said it.

As Corinth exerted more pressure, Basil, who hadn’t thought of any good excuses broke out a few drops of cold sweat over his forehead. He knew that the mayor now had the initiative, that he himself was within his grasp.

Even so, Basil must keep the conversation going-stiffening himself and acting as if he misunderstood Corinth, he turned towards the composed youth. “And you are, young man?”

Corinth kept his eyes locked on Basil, however, making the envoy’s lips twitch.

Still, the mayor smiled mildly again just as Basil thought that he had bought the farm.

“Oh, where are my manners. Allow me to make the introductions.” Corinth said, gesturing at the young man. “This young lad is Angora Faust, hailing from Tunaya.”

Basil was left stumped. He had presumed the youth to be the scion of a branch family in the Atherton lineage whom Corinth had brought along to groom, since Corinth’s own son was dead, leaving no other male heir in the main family. With Corinth’s granddaughter Gwendolyn being no older than a toddler, there was every chance that the mayor’s position could be handed to another kin too.

Nonetheless, Basil’s eyes were bulging when he realized who the youth was.

“Tunaya? Could your father be... Faust?!”

Wasn’t the Silver Eagle Castle in Tunaya?! And wasn’t Angora Faust the Silver Eagle Duke?!

The droplets of cold sweat over old Basil’s head increased.

Was Lancaster already in league with the Silver Eagle Duchy? This meant that the imperial family was going to be the biggest loser!

“Please pay me no mind. I’m only here to discuss holding a tourney called the Twin City Cup with Mayor Atherton.” The youth grinned when he saw the look on old Basil’s face and rose to his feet. “After having made the long journey, you should enjoy the festivities too... by the way, your escort may participate as well, although you should prepare them mentally, since the tourney might prove challenging.”

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