The banquet hall was packed with young heirs of influential, noble dynasties, and military officers. The common soldiery was few and far between, and the only demons present were Senon and Latela. Although, Def and Troma were also present, few considered them to be demons. Apparently, they have become extremely famous in Gramr'ial.
Supposedly, Troma introduced new banking methods and services that improved the financial districts of Gramr'ial considerably. He introduced the concept of buying ownership in a business or group of businesses, and reaping long-term rewards, and in doing so has revitalized the economy of the occupied city, and almost completely eradicated any thoughts of rebellion or returning to its previous demonic allegiance. Humans -- and their goblin financial guru -- were, apparently, pretty good for business.
"And so, when Def come to this place, young lady ask Def for help," the goblin explained to a couple of humans sitting across the table. "Lady say: Need hero. Protection array broken. Soldiers dead. Monsters everywhere."
The humans nodded, enchanted.
"Def, handsome warrior that he is, and son of destiny, because he mysteriously one day wake up with Emperor-level Method, decide to help lady."
Troma rolled his eyes at Def's statement of waking up with a Emperor-level Method. Even Ain gave the goblin a side glance, but seeing the Humans all in awe about this detail, decided not to spill the truth.
"Def battle monster after monster. Big monster. Small monster. All kinds of monster. Even talking monster."
"That was human bandit, not monster," Troma interjected.
"Same thing." Def shrugged. "Anyway, Def so filthy ric-- Def so righteous, he decide to help keep city safe."
"That is wonderful, Ser Def'a'Lot," the two human soldiers smiled at the goblin, filling up his goblet with mead.
"No problem," the goblin said, happily receiving all the attention.
There were several glaring problems with the story, that went unnoticed by the couple of soldiers. First of all, Def was no son of destiny. When he was captured by the humans -- because he was in Latela's entourage -- the crafty goblin escaped, and on his heroic escape, he did come across a young lady in the fields, who was being attacked by monsters.
In his generous heart, the goblin knew that there was nothing wrong with cross-species romance, and decided to woo the lady, but first, and quite easily so, removed whatever obstacle was nearby towards that goal; namely the monster.
After running several errands for the lady, and clearing out the monsters in the fields surrounding the city, to obtain her undying love and hand in marriage, Def's fame as a relentless Goblin Slayer rose to such prominence that his name echoed in the city day and night.
Everyone assumed that Def was a tall, handsome human, who exclusively killed goblins, and, because of this, quite a few misunderstandings led to premature death and organ harvesting. Eventually, a group of merchants of exotic materials attempted to broker a deal with Def about collecting monster organs.
Realizing that a whole new market opened up, Def abandoned all silly ideas of marrying a young demon, or three, and almost single-handedly scoured the region clean of all monsters, and for his efforts, was Knighted into the fledgling Order of the Crimson Hawk.
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At first, Ain did not believe the story, but seeing Def in a red cloak, with a crimson hawk coat of arms -- and being called Ser Def'a'Lot -- instantly eliminated all suspicions. The story was true. Even though it was incredibly stupid.
"And Ser Def'a'Lot still can't pay off debt. Troma work tirelessly day and night to make ends meet, but stupid goblin keep dragging Troma into financial hell," the other goblin growled.
"Have trust, silly little friend," Def said. "Def invest in monster organ business. Very safe."
Troma groaned. "Troma warn Def. It just bubble. In less than year, we poorer than dirt. And then screwed."
Def glared at Troma. "What bubble? Economy not soap. No bubbles."
"Excuse me, are you Ain?" a voice from behind called out and Ain turned to look at the individual. It was an older man with a greying beard, accompanied by a much younger man.
"I am. Who is asking?" Ain replied.
"My name is Sigurd de Veir," the man said, extending his hand to Ain. "I've been looking forward to meeting you."
The couple of soldiers at their table were filled with wonder when they saw the new duo, and suddenly jumped out of their seats to stand at attention.
"It is a pleasure," Ain said, taking the man's hand and giving it a firm squeeze.
"This is my Lieutenant, Rale of Vidar," Sigurd de Veir said, gesturing to his companion. His companion gave a curt nod, and stared at Ain with hostility in his eyes.
Ain returned the gesture with an incline of his head. "I didn't think the Knight Marshall of the Knights Astartes would be present; it is an honor to meet you, Ser," Ain said.
He had heard of the Knight Marshall. In the Succession Wars, he and the Knights Astartes were instrumental in obtaining victory for the Queen.
"To meet a Hero like yourself is likewise an honor," Sigurd said as he sat pulled up a chair and sat down next to Ain, in the process pushing Senon's chair away to her dismay.
"How may I help you?" Ain asked, tone polite as always.
"I have heard that you have quite a gifted Lieutenant. Perhaps you would be interested in allowing him and Rale to exchange a few pointers?"
Senon coughed, now twice-wronged; her heart still bled from being perceived as a son by her Master. She even glanced sideways at Sigurd de Veir, perhaps considering the pros and cons of decapitating him on the spot. Were she a full Pride Demon, she might've done more than just think about it.
"You can ask her yourself," Ain said, gesturing to Senon. "But I would not recommend it."
"It will be fine," Sigurd said, turning to look at Senon and then bowing his head apologetically, no doubt realizing that he was rude to the wrong person. "Greetings to you, young warrior. How about it? Care to spar my Lieutenant?"
Senon looked at Rale who was glaring at her, sized him up, and then scoffed. "Not interested."
To say that Rale nearly had a stroke when Senon scoffed, and disregarded him like he was trash someone picked up on the side of a road, was an understatement. His face changed so many colors and expressions in the span of a few seconds, they were too many to list.
"You dare?" Rale exclaimed after marginally composing himself.
"As I've said, I won't stop them, but I really would not recommend it," Ain said.
"I also, for what it matters, do not recommend it," Latela said. Although, she likely did not know the details about why Ain was not recommending it -- mainly due to the fact that Senon had a Pillar of Creation in her Source, and comprehended a Principle -- she knew that anything to do with Ain, in violent terms, could not end well.
"I practice a Heavenly Emperor Method, demon," Rale growled at Senon. "For your insult, I challenge you to a duel. Praise your lucky stars, for I will be merciful this time."
Latela swooned at the words Heavenly Emperor Method. Such things were figments of imagination in this era. Obtaining one required such luck, hard work and dedication, that it would likely be easier to become the Calamity Lord. Practicing one was at least a thousand times more difficult.
Senon, hearing that the young man practiced such a Method was skeptical at first. In her eyes, only her Master was capable of providing such techniques to mere mortals.
Many eyes, at this point, were on Ain and his group. Even though it was quite loud in the banquet hall, many could easily sense the killing intent emanating from Rale of Vidar, and not just him, but others as well.
Senon, perhaps of all individuals there -- even Ain -- was the most in tune to these types of things thanks to her Spirit half.
Senon sensed the attack before Rale's sword even left the sheath, and she gracefully jumped to her feet, moving like a leaf floating on the wind, and reached for the empty air at her side.
It was at precisely that moment that she remembered that her weapon was confiscated, and that she was, currently, unarmed.