Chapter 35: Treaty Under the City Walls

The glorious paladin was blocked behind a woman.

The once-elegant snake tail was now held urgently upright, and the tiny snake heads crowning her hair were, for the first time, flicking their tongues in a rare display of aggression.

The Pearl of Glow City, a noble lady renowned for her elegance, charm, and impeccable etiquette, was at this moment exhibiting a bluntness that was entirely unbefitting her station.

To put it simply, she was panicked.

Leon could even feel the beads of cold sweat on her arm; she must have rushed here in a frantic hurry. She was so desperate, so incredibly anxious, that she couldn't be bothered with the elaborate social niceties of the nobility.

"Are you people incapable of playing fair? The goods my fiancé entrusted to be sold—you dare to swallow them?"

Wait, did she just use a strange word? Fiancé?

Sister? What do you mean? Is he a new rising star of your Royalist faction, a Viscount Sudar? A future husband of the head of the house?

(Leon whispered: "Uh, didn't we break off our engagement?")

"Leon... Sudar?! He is also a Sudar." At this moment, those present finally remembered the surname of this outsider.

This was natural, as the names of non-nobles held no significance to them. Who would have thought that an outsider from the desert would share the same surname as a local power-holding noble house?

The bombshell Sariman dropped acted like a pause button on the battlefield. The next moment, it was as if boiling oil had been poured into a frying pan, and the entire scene erupted into chaos.

"No way, has someone really caught the eye of Viscountess Sariman?"

"How could that be..."

"Good heavens, her suitors are going to lose their minds."

"It must be another case of bloodline unification... The Sudar family truly needs it; there are so few of them left, they do need to expand their population. But doesn't this mean that all future Sudars will carry this man’s bloodline?"

Countless gazes—filled with jealousy, hatred, or the thrill of gossip—fixed upon Leon, the focal point of the chaos.

Is he worthy? Can he handle it?

Sariman’s intelligence work had been excellent; the "scandal" had been so well-hidden that no one knew of it until now. By exposing it herself, she naturally caused a massive uproar.

This was Sariman Sudar, the most beautiful and wealthiest pearl of Glow City. How could she possibly have a fiancé?!

At this moment, even "Howl of the Volcano," who had intended to use brute force, stopped dead in his tracks. Even someone whose muscles took up all the space in his brain knew that in Glow City, there were some people you simply could not afford to offend.

Leon sighed, a hint of regret in his eyes, but he took his hand off the guide.

It seemed the fighting would end here... but considering his own plans, perhaps ending it here was for the best.

With Sariman Sudar standing here, the nature of the situation had completely changed. She was not only a pillar of the local traditionalist faction but also a staunch royalist.

Previously, he was just a brash young man, a dragon crossing the river; now, he was entangled with a local superpower.

What started as an outsider being besieged now appeared to be turning into an internal struggle between noble factions in Glow City... or perhaps even a conflict within the kingdom itself.

Could it be that the monarchy was dissatisfied with the slave market? Dissatisfied with the excessive autonomy of Glow City? But they had always paid their tributes to the royal family.

At this moment, it wasn't just the bystanders who were confused; Kveldulf, the head of the slave market, was also reeling. He suddenly felt a deep longing for Eugene, whom he had previously looked down upon. At least when Eugene was around, he didn't have to worry about these kinds of situations.

"How about... the two of you, let's go upstairs and talk?"

When these words left his lips, the veteran head of the slave market felt a sense of shame. Someone had come to smash your door and kill your dogs, and you were inviting them upstairs to sit down for a polite chat?

Perhaps there was a better way to handle this, perhaps he should have found a way to compromise while remaining firm, but he truly didn't know how.

He had risen to power through pure strength; the slave market needed a famous "enforcer" to keep order. He wasn't skilled in these matters... and the one who had been skilled was already dead and buried.

"No need. We'll talk right here. My goods were already traded with you, so how is it that you’ve swallowed them?" If they went upstairs, heaven knew what tricks the other side might pull. In front of the crowd, it was easier for Leon to spread the news.

Leon pulled out a transaction slip and tossed it over. With just one glance, Kveldulf’s scalp began to tingle. He recognized this handwriting all too well!

"Eugene Foddy!! You absolute idiot!!"

The signature on the standard slave market auction commission form (already delivered) was none other than that of the now-dead Eugene. And the date of the signature was from before his death!

"Within your organization, or perhaps in Eugene’s office, there should be copies." Such documents were always kept in triplicate or more.

It turned out that under Dimon’s "persuasion," Eugene had known the trade was unstable and that the auctioneer seemed hesitant. Worried that Leon might change his mind, Eugene had signed this commission right on the spot to lock in the deal.

For goods of this caliber, the price in a private trade was hard to estimate, so putting them up for auction was a decent choice for the seller. This was actually a transition to convince Leon to continue the deal; once terms were settled, they could finalize a new private deal and destroy the paperwork—a classic "public-to-private" operation.

Copies of the transaction slip were indeed in Eugene's office. As long as they weren't handed over to the relevant departments of the market, they could be intercepted at any time. Eugene had even prepared to investigate Leon’s background, intending to double-cross him if the opportunity arose.

The problem now was that Eugene was dead, but the documents remained, and they were in triplicate. This meant Leon had officially commissioned the slave market to auction his goods, and those goods were now gone.

Kveldulf’s hands trembled as he held the auction commission. They were completely in the wrong now. Kveldulf looked left and right; the crowd was growing, and it was too late to suppress the news.

The items had been handed over to the auction house, and the contract was signed. Now that the items were missing, it was naturally the slave market’s fault. It was no wonder Kveldulf cursed Eugene; the dead man's greed meant the slave market was morally obligated to cover the losses from this "robbery," as the goods were legally under the market's control when the incident occurred (as evidenced by the documents).

Leon? Leon hadn't participated in the trade; only Eugene and the third party, Dimon, were present at the time.

"Compensation? How are we supposed to compensate? Where am I going to find Hero’s Blood to pay him back?"

Degeneration was already a low-probability event, and for a powerhouse in the midst of degeneration to produce pure Hero’s Blood was an even rarer occurrence.

"Are you planning to swallow my fiancé’s goods? To swallow a treasure of the Sudar family?"

At this moment, Sariman Sudar stepped forward. The stunning woman looked like an enraged general. But Leon, standing right next to her, could feel her trembling.

Was she uneasy, nervous, or hesitant? Was it because of the strong men present?

No, Kveldulf could move against anyone, but he could never move against Viscountess Sudar. This was an unwritten rule of the noble circle: unless it was a life-or-death struggle, one did not target the heads of various factions, otherwise, assassinations would never end.

So, what was she nervous about?

"Oh, she’s nervous about me..." Leon realized.

She wasn't just nervous about Leon himself; she was nervous about his next attitude and choice. Her trembling was due to being unaccustomed to a man’s warmth and the intimacy of the distance between them. On the other hand, her unease also stemmed from guilt; this forced public declaration was effectively dragging Leon into the whirlpool of the kingdom’s noble power struggles.

If Leon were truly a rigid and stubborn paladin, he would absolutely despise being dragged into a power struggle.

"…Thank you." The man’s low-voiced gratitude made the girl shudder.

The next moment, she straightened her posture, and the snakes in her hair puffed up with renewed spirit. Her beautiful eyes, now emboldened, glared fiercely at the bewildered Kveldulf.

From Leon’s perspective, at his level of involvement, it was impossible not to pick a side. If he remained neutral, both sides would view him as an enemy. His upcoming plans did indeed require political backing and tacit approval. At least for now, Sariman and the Dragon Hunters behind her could be considered his own people.

Of course, even if he knew nothing, if he had to join a faction, Leon would prioritize the Royalists. It wasn't because he was interested in princesses or princes... but because the other factions would ruin the kingdom without hesitation, whereas the Royalists at least viewed the kingdom as their own property, making their methods slightly more palatable.

"This, this, that..." Kveldulf couldn't meet the gaze of the increasingly assertive Sariman. The surrounding stares stung him with frustration; the slave market’s reputation for integrity had been called into question.

If it were anyone else, or even a minor noble, they would have simply disappeared. But this was one of the kingdom’s great noble houses, and there might be royal interference behind it. Was this Leon also a talent cultivated by the royal family? A piece thrown out by the palace to pin them down? Were there more chains of attacks to come?

These speculations were a bit excessive, but they were actually quite reasonable. Once Viscountess Sudar stepped forward and announced her engagement, even the most absurd guesses seemed possible. Look, Sariman Sudar had a fiancé, and she had staked her own private affairs as a bargaining chip in this game; what else was impossible? With a marriage of her status, the royal family would surely interfere, so royal maneuvering was only natural.

Facing the pressure, Kveldulf was getting anxious. Others auctioned Hero’s Blood not for gold, but for equivalent rarities, such as魔 potions that allowed for rapid evolution or high-level materials. Those top-tier rarities could basically only be traded through barter.

He couldn't afford to pay, and even if he found the tail-cutters, it was impossible to recover all the Hero’s Blood... whoever got it would have used it already! Furthermore, several big bosses had already ordered the Hero’s Blood, regardless of the cost. Even if the slave market did get it, Kveldulf himself wouldn't be qualified to use it; it would be up to the big bosses to fight over the spoils.

"…I know, the items can't be recovered." Leon spoke suddenly.

At this moment, Leon took back the initiative.

This tone—did he intend not to pursue it to the end? His sudden generosity made everyone breathe a sigh of relief.

"I can choose not to recover the Hero’s Blood, but I require compensation. I won't ask for materials of the same grade..."

See, he was blackmailing them, and they still had to thank him for it.

There was nothing more to be said. When Leon began to list his demands for compensation, with Viscountess Sudar watching, Kveldulf had no choice but to agree. Under the eyes of everyone, he forced the head of the slave market to nod in submission.

He had challenged the slave market's face, trampled on its authority, forced them to bleed, collected interest, and compelled them to investigate the tail-cutters.

One could say that Leon had easily completed an epic achievement: he smashed the home of the local biggest crime syndicate, killed their guard dogs, blackmailed them, forced them to work for him... and was then politely escorted out the door!