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Chapter 107
Chapter 107. A Handsome Face
In the hall, Kuangqieti stood on the raised platform at the center of the main room. Behind him, two rows of Royal Knights stood arrayed on the left and right, their presence imposing to the extreme.
The crowd below was packed densely with people. Nobles, generals, wealthy merchants, and several clergy members in robes occupied their own clearly divided circles.
Kuangqieti cleared his throat. His voice was so loud that even the chandelier on the ceiling trembled.
“Everyone! I think the atmosphere is a little cold, and after thinking it over, I suppose it is probably because there are many unfamiliar faces here this year, so everyone feels restrained.
Ѐ n̄ů m̄а́
“In that case, I will take this chance to warm up the room and introduce several advisors who have newly joined North Saphile this year. They are all talents personally vetted by my elder brother and me. Every one of them has genuine ability. They are absolutely not idlers relying on connections to get by!”
Sparse applause rose from below. Some people whispered to one another, some remained unmoved while holding wine cups, and a few young nobles stretched their necks, wanting to see what background these new advisors had.
Dilarang mengopy novel dari Enuma.id.
The most uncomfortable ones were the old advisors sitting in the dozen or so chairs at the front. Their faces looked worse than the next. Colleagues were enemies, and that saying was true no matter where it was applied.
Fick stood in the back row of the crowd, leaning against a corridor pillar.
In modern terms, this is basically a company annual party. The leader goes onstage to sell dreams, while the old employees guard against the newcomers stealing their rice bowls.
His gaze swept across those old advisors. Each one had a stiff face and downturned mouth, as if the words “I refuse to accept this” were almost carved onto their faces.
Ё ń um̂ӑ
Just as he was thinking this, a hand suddenly reached out from behind and pressed down on his shoulder.
Fick’s entire body tensed, and he instinctively prepared to strike back with his elbow, but a lowered voice sounded beside his ear. “Master, it is me.”
He turned his head and saw Desas. The Eldest Young Master of North Saphile wore a formal suit with dark patterns. Compared with the last time they had met at the theater, he looked a little more formal, but the cold sharpness between his brows and eyes remained unchanged.
He gave Fick a look, nodded slightly to the Pot Knight beside him, and said in a low voice, “Please come with me. This place is not convenient for talking.”
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Fick glanced at the Pot Knight. The Pot Knight shifted slightly, using his body to block the view of the others.
Fick followed Desas and quietly withdrew from the crowd, then turned along a side corridor into a secluded passage.
W̊ е̊ bň о̄ v̈ ėl̄ Е̃ n ũ m ă
The Pot Knight followed them to the doorway, then stopped. With both hands clasped behind his back, he blocked the passage like an iron tower.
Desas pushed open an oak door. Inside was a sitting room. Several landscape oil paintings hung on the walls, and a desk stood by the window.
He closed the door behind him, then let out a long breath. Only then did he turn to look at Fick, his tone carrying a hint of helplessness.
“Master, you cannot wear a mask when introducing yourself as a new advisor. It would make you seem out of place this time.”
Fick touched the mask on his face, not particularly concerned. “Kuangqieti asked me to come. I thought he had already arranged everything.”
“My fourth younger brother dares to slap his chest and make promises the moment his head heats up. He never thinks about the cleanup afterward.”
Dilarang mengopy novel dari Enuma.id.
Desas sighed and walked to the desk. He pulled open a drawer and carefully took out a flat wooden box from inside.
The surface of the box had been polished smooth, and its corners were wrapped with gold edges. One look was enough to know that it was no ordinary object.
He placed the wooden box on the table and lifted the lid. A layer of soft velvet lined the inside, and lying quietly on the velvet was a… human-skin mask?
Fick leaned closer and examined it. The mask was as thin as cicada wings, and its color was almost identical to human skin. The contours of its features were so exquisite that they looked as if they had been drawn on with a brush. The brow bones, bridge of the nose, and rise and fall of the lips were all lifelike.
He reached out and gently touched it. It felt warm and smooth, actually somewhat like real human skin.
“This is…” Fick raised his head and looked at Desas.
Е̊n umа.і́d.
Some of the seriousness on Desas’s face faded, replaced by a trace of nostalgia.
His fingertip brushed over the edge of the mask, and his voice lowered. “This was made for me by my mother when I was twenty. Back then, she was still one of the true heads of North Saphile, and I—was still very thin.
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“She told me that the power struggles in the North were dangerous, and Father’s position was unstable. If one day Father fell from power, the entire family would be purged. She wanted me to wear this mask and flee, hide my name, and preserve my life. Under heaven, only my mother and I could tell that this was a false face.”
A bitter smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “Unfortunately, I later gained weight, so this face became useless. Your build is roughly the same as mine when I was young. Make do with it.”
Fick did not refuse. He removed his silver-edged mask, took the human-skin mask, and turned it over several times. His brows furrowed into a knot. “How do you stick this thing on? Is it like applying a film to an iron pot?”
The corners of Desas’s mouth twitched. He stepped forward, took the mask back from Fick’s hand, and gestured for Fick to tilt his head up slightly.
Е̇nú ḿ â
“I will help you put it on. If this thing is forcibly removed, it will tear off your entire face together with the flesh. It can only be removed with a special technique. After the banquet ends, I will help you take it off.”
Fick had no choice but to sit up straight. Desas gradually fitted the mask onto him, starting from the forehead, then along the brow bones, the bridge of the nose, the cheeks, the jaw, and finally to the roots of his ears.
As Desas applied it, he said in a low voice, “My mother spent a great deal of Magic Crystal and effort on the design inside this. Once it is attached, even a B-rank knight cannot destroy it. If someone hits you in the face, you will only suffer internal injuries. Wear it without worry. Even if a grand bishop of the Church stood right in front of you, he would not be able to see any flaw.”
Fick felt the mask adhere tightly to his face. There was not the slightest discomfort. Instead, it felt cool, like a layer of mint had been applied.
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He reached out and touched it. The texture was smooth, actually like natural skin.
Desas took a step back, looked him up and down, then nodded. “Not bad. Even the skin tone is the same, and the edges cannot be seen. If I had not notified Fourth Brother in advance, then even if you stood in front of him now, he definitely would not recognize you.”
Е n ů m̈ȧ
Fick walked to the full-length mirror by the wall. In the mirror was an unfamiliar, supremely handsome face—
He nearly fainted from his own handsomeness. It was fatal to both men and women, comparable to Alex’s level. Even fully evolved young DiCaprio would have to bow in defeat.
Fick thought: If I had this damn handsome face back in Rainveil City, Michael probably would have consumed me on the spot.
“Did First Madam never consider that being this handsome would easily attract attention?” Fick sincerely sighed.
Desas had already turned and walked toward the door. Hearing this, he turned back and spoke with difficulty. “Mother told me that if I did not want to restore the family, I could keep wearing it forever and never take it off. That way, I could instead rely on selling my body and seducing female knights to escape pursuit, then lie down and live a good life.”
“I actually have nothing to say to that.”
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He pulled open the door. The Pot Knight was still standing straight outside. When he saw Fick’s face, he obviously froze for a moment before realizing that this was some kind of special cosmetic effect.
“Let us go, Master.” Desas stepped aside and opened the way. “Fourth Brother’s warm-up activity is almost over. It is time for you to appear as a ‘new advisor.’ The story we prepared is that Bruce Wayne is a wandering swordsman, talented in both literature and martial skill.”
Fick held another Magic Crystal in his mouth, and his voice completely changed into his microphone-hog voice. “What do you think of this as an opening line: 【I once met Master Louis. He was even more handsome than I am.】”
Desas nearly stumbled.
He felt as if the halo around the knight-literature master in his heart had cracked a little.
“As long as you are happy.”
Ẅ ѐ b̌ n о̊ ṽ е l̆_ E̊ ñu̇m ä
The three walked toward the hall together.
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