After the intense warm-up duel, everyone returned to the grand room for the official meeting.
The large banquet table was filled with fine dishes—roasted meats, fresh bread, exotic fruits, and aged wine.
Despite their earlier loss, Gilmon and Hesbeirn were engaged in a fierce battle.
Not with swords—but with food.
Both men glared at each other, gripping opposite ends of a massive piece of roasted meat.
Meanwhile—Garius leaned back in his chair, calmly drinking his wine as he read through the royal decree.
After a moment, he spoke.
"Gilmon?"
Gilmon—still struggling against Hesbeirn for the meat—grunted.
"Yeah?"
Garius set down the decree, his expression unreadable.
"How does King Edmund plan to guarantee that the trade routes remain safe?"
Gilmon finally yanked the meat away, victorious.
"Safe? What do you mean?"
Garius narrowed his eyes.