Chapter 9: Toast to Victory

"Black Pearl, as its name suggests, glistens in the obsidian bottle much like the legendary magical black pearl, nourished by an old clam at the bottom of a lake."

Swirling the crystal goblet, and sniffing the fragrance of Black Pearl wine, Charles recited as if he were a poet.

"A long-cellar-aged Black Pearl wine is like an ancient tale that flutters from a deep temporal tunnel, smooth and mellow as it enters the mouth, quietly telling you what true romance is."

"Tch," Eric curled his lip, "it's a bit sour, not as good as brandy."

Charles glanced at Eric with contempt, "Black Pearl wine in your mouth is simply a waste."

Eric snorted, "Pretentious."

"What do you know? Black Pearl wine is a fine drink meant for aristocrats to savor—the color, the vintage, the variety of grapes, they all ferment into distinct flavors. How would a bumpkin like you understand its nuances? Go drink some malt beer instead."

"I may be a bumpkin, but you are merely from a family whose fortunes have faded!" Eric retorted.

He was born into a commoner's family, and for generations, they were serfs, yearning to achieve great success and ascend into the ranks of the nobility.

Charles' father had been a Lord Knight, but he died early, so their family's fortunes had waned and they had fallen back into commoner status.

"Even a family of faded glory once had its moments, a heritage you wouldn't understand," Charles said smugly, savoring a sip of the Black Pearl wine, "I drank Black Pearl wine when I was younger. You, bumpkin, have you ever even tasted wine?"

Eric clenched his fist, "You!"

"Alright, gentlemen," Russell, who had been enjoying the spectacle and didn't want a real fight to break out, raised his glass, "Let us all have a toast to victory!"

"To victory!" Charles raised his goblet in response.

Eric didn't actually want to fight, so taking the opportunity Russell provided, he too raised his glass, muttering, "To victory!"

Tom, John, Jack, and James, the four Knight Attendants, quickly wiped their greasy mouths and lifted their cups together, "To victory!"

With a toast to victory, the atmosphere suddenly became jovial.

All present were Knights, their Battle Qi surging, consuming large quantities of food due to their high energy expenditure; the servants would bring a dish, and in no time, it would be wiped clean.

Russell was no different, forgetting his usual noble restraint and eating with relish.

Perhaps it was a matter of mindset, as the manor's annex felt like his real home, and in that moment, he could enjoy his meal with a far more relaxed attitude than at Fluorescent Castle.

"Russell, to the future of Wuyao Snake Manor, please have a drink," Charles was more lively at the banquet than at any other time, "Pairing meals with Black Pearl wine, I truly wish this kind of life could be repeated every day."

Russell took a modest sip, "It will happen, Mr. Charles, everything will come."

After a while, James raised his glass, "Sir, to victory!"

As Knight Attendants, it was James and the others' duty to always accompany Russell, to protect him, and to take care of his needs in eating, drinking, and all else whether at home or on the battlefield.

It was an intimately close relationship.

Many of the attendants to great nobles eventually earned the title of Lord.

Of course, Russell was only a Lord himself and didn't have the authority to confer titles on his followers, but he would definitely provide them with good food and drink, and in critical moments, they would risk their lives for him.

"To victory, James!"

The banquet lasted a full two hours, and both teachers and all four attendants were completely drunk, except for Russell, who retained a bit of sobriety.

Stepping out of the dining hall, he walked to the corridor by the courtyard.

Butler Morris approached, "My lord."

"Have the servants all eaten?"

"Thank you for your concern, my lord, the servants have indeed eaten."

"Are there enough rooms in the manor?"

"I was just about to report to you, Sir," Butler Morris took out a sheet of paper with a sketch on it, "there are twelve rooms downstairs, each quite large, around fifteen or sixteen square meters. The servants can squeeze in a bit, and your Knight Attendants can share a room for now, two per room..."

The architectural style of the manor's annex was very rugged, built with stacked stones, so there was no pursuit of form—just an emphasis on size and sturdiness.

Each room was nearly the same size, with a length and width of four meters.

That is to say, the entire manor's length was twenty meters, and its width was twelve meters, not including the walls, which would make it even larger.

"With the current situation, we can only make do temporarily, Sir. You could divide one of the downstairs rooms into two. That way, two or three servants can share a room, and your Knight Attendants could each have their own room... The three rooms directly in front can be combined into a hall for receiving guests, with tea rooms and washrooms partitioned on either side..."

Morris showed quite a talent for design.

The plan for the manor's annex on his draft was meticulous, with not only the guest hall, Knight Attendant rooms, servant rooms, and kitchen clearly laid out, but also the toilets, boiler room, storeroom, servant's dining room, and bathroom all marked.

As for the second floor, Morris had not marked anything; that was for Russell to decide.

"Very good, Morris, your arrangements are commendable," Russell did not stint on his praise, "let's go with that for now. When the weather gets warmer, we can properly tidy up the Manor's annex. Also, arrange for Charles and Eric to have rooms upstairs."

"At your command, Sir."

After that, Morris hesitated as if he had more to say.

Feeling refreshed by the evening breeze, Russell asked, "Is there something you want to say?"

"From what I know, noble lords have a tradition of sharing a drink with the butler in the study at night... I'm not sure if you, Sir, would also like this tradition," Morris said, looking at Russell with a hopeful gaze, awaiting his response.

Russell raised his eyebrows, then smiled indifferently, "Since it's a tradition, let's continue it."

Morris was overjoyed and bowed respectfully, "As you wish, Sir."

Then he asked, "Shall we start tonight?"

"Go make sure the guests are all settled in, and I will take a bath. Afterward, I'll head to the study... Don't bring wine when you come tonight; I've drunk too much already."

"Yes, Sir."

The second floor had a bathing room, though it lacked a shower; male servants had to carry water from the boiler room on the first floor to the bathing room.

It was the maids' responsibility to prepare the bathwater for Russell as well as bring clean clothes.

But no one was there to assist with the bath; that was something Russell had to do himself.

A few minutes in the hot water and the effects of the alcohol dissipated. Battle Qi could produce the same effect as well; circulating Battle Qi for half an hour could effectively alleviate the effects of alcohol—of course, assuming one hadn't drunk too much and knew how to circulate the Battle Qi.

"Comfortable!"

After drying off and changing into fresh clothes, Russell felt completely relaxed.

"Sir, please dry your hair," Head Maid Leona brought a dry towel and began to tidy up the clothes in the bathing room.

She was about twenty-seven or twenty-eight years old, and not yet married.

Dressed in a standard maid uniform, she wore a black dress reaching to her heels, topped with a white apron and a white headscarf.

Despite the simplicity of her linen garments, Leona had a good figure, and the curve of her hips was pronounced as she bent over.

Perhaps the lingering alcohol played a role.

With an unintended glance, Russell felt a stirring of respect.

However, as a gentleman, he quickly averted his gaze to the enchanting moonlight outside the window and couldn't help thinking, "No wonder they have coming-of-age ceremonies at sixteen here; this body... has certainly reached the age of maturity."

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(Head Maid Leona)