Chapter 21 Trust Me This Once

Jonathan's imagination ran wild. He could already picture himself as a wealthy man, his family flush with gold from the plundered riches of Crowley Barony. This was exactly why he had defied his family's protests and enlisted as a soldier: not just for the steady wages and three meals a day, but for the chance to earn extra income. One day, he could feast on fine white bread instead of this dark, coarse loaf.

The subjugation campaign would be risky, but the greater the risk, the greater the reward. If he distinguished himself, perhaps he could even become a member of the barony's guards. With more effort, he might be trained in swordsmanship and eventually knighted.

"Don't get your hopes too high," said an older soldier nearby. Clearly a veteran of past campaigns, the man added, "This isn't going to be easy. If you want to earn any glory, you'd better stick close to the seasoned fighters and follow their lead. Nobody's going to take responsibility for you if you end up dead."

Harry scoffed. "Old man, maybe it's too late for you to rise through the ranks, but not for me. I'm going to make it as a guard, just you watch."

Jonathan and Hans, more cautious by nature, gravitated toward the veteran's advice. Glory was enticing, but not at the cost of their lives or limbs. They edged away from Harry and sat down beside the older soldier.

Conversations like this unfolded around campfires throughout the clearing. Soldiers from different baronies mingled in search of information. On this cold night, visible breath puffed into the air, and the fires burned steadily until morning.

Meanwhile, Michael mounted his horse alongside the baron, preparing to attend a banquet at Kensington Castle. Baron Kensington was known as an eccentric noble.

"Ah, thank you for coming. You must have had a long journey," Baron Kensington greeted them warmly. Then, his eyes fell on Michael's horse. "Your son's horse is magnificent!"

"You're too kind, Baron Kensington. But your horse looks equally impressive," the baron replied.

"Haha, thank you! I recently paid a fortune for this stud. Just look at its mane and tail—they shimmer with rainbow hues, don't they? This is the famous breed Rainbow Plus. Under sunlight, the reflection is stunning. Brushing it every morning and evening is such a delight. And its eyes—so mysterious! Let me tell you…"

The more he was complimented, the more animated Baron Kensington became, his speech stretching endlessly. This was his peculiar quirk—he was an animal and magical beast enthusiast. News of anyone acquiring an unusual creature or forming a pact with a magical beast would drive him to investigate immediately.

Once a prosperous barony rivaling Crowley in wealth, Kensington's fortunes had steadily declined due to its lord's eccentricities. Among northeastern nobles, the phrase "a Kensington-like fool who ruins his household" had become popular. Rumor even held that a section of his castle housed a collection of rare animals.

As Michael stood by his father, enduring an extended ode to Baron Kensington's horse, he couldn't even dismount from his own. Just as Baron Kensington began explaining why his horse's hooves were exceptional, his eyes caught sight of something unusual.

"What is that?" he exclaimed.

His gaze had landed on Nyangnyang, who was perched atop Bucephalus, holding onto the horse's mane.

"That… is that a cat?" Baron Kensington asked, incredulous.

What kind of cat sat upright on a horse, clutching its mane for balance? Receiving a subtle signal from his father to humor the man, Michael explained, "Ah, this is my pet cat. It refuses to eat unless I feed it myself, so I had no choice but to bring it along. It won't leave my side for a moment. Isn't it adorable?"

Baron Kensington stammered, "But... it's holding onto the mane?"

"Exactly! That's what makes it so smart," Michael said with pride. "When I first placed it on the horse, I worried it might fall, but it grabbed the mane and held on tight. Cats are naturally agile, after all."

Baron Kensington, fascinated yet skeptical, stared at the cat. Could all cats perform such feats? Probably not. His eyes gleamed with avarice.

"Could you sell me that cat?" he asked.

Michael's expression turned serious. Nyangnyang, perhaps sensing the situation, let out an indignant hiss and leapt onto Michael's shoulder.

"Absolutely not," Michael replied. "How could you ask such a thing? This cat is family."

Baron Kensington sighed, disappointed. Though peculiar, he wasn't known for being cruel or forceful. "Could I at least hold it? You called it Nyangnyang, right? Come here, sweetie," he coaxed.

Nyangnyang—no, Sphinx Nephertari—let out another disdainful hiss before turning its head away. Its tail lashed furiously, its whiskers quivering with the indignity of the situation.

Here is the translation of the second part of Chapter 12, rewritten in the third-person narrative style:

Chapter 12 (Continued): Trust Me This Once

Michael dismounted his horse, guided by an attendant, wearing an expression of regret as he glanced at Nyangnyang, who completely ignored Baron Kensington's pleas for attention. The castle, steeped in history, reflected the grandeur befitting a prominent figure in the northeastern territories. Though it had a sparse and worn appearance, likely from the sale of decorative items over time, it still retained its beauty.

Inside the castle, nobles gathered in small groups, engaging in lively conversation. As Michael and his father entered, all eyes turned toward them. Greetings were exchanged, followed by compliments, politeness, and thinly veiled probing. Many seemed curious about the new heir of the Crassus family.

"You have such a striking son! A face like an angel and the physique of a knight—how enviable!" one noble exclaimed.

Michael found the endless stream of compliments about his appearance awkward. He had never thought much about his looks or build, and the excessive praise left him uneasy. Meanwhile, Baron Kensington trailed after him, still trying to coax Nyangnyang into letting him hold it. His obsession with animals was evident, and it was no surprise that he'd rather focus on creatures than engage in political scheming.