"Tsk, that look sure isn’t very friendly." The second son of House Lorenzo took a sip of the amber liquid in his glass, his tone tinged with amusement.

"Sigh..." Warren followed with a light sigh, also taking a sip of his drink before saying in a low voice, "I’m afraid he’s treating me as a rival too."

"Oh?" Lorenzo’s second son raised a brow, leaned in closer, and his voice took on a teasing lilt. "Judging from how you sound, don’t tell me you really don’t have any designs on Little Inanna? Putting aside the fact that she’s the Duke’s only daughter, just that figure alone... full where it should be full, slender where it should be slender, and with that one-of-a-kind pink hair and pink eyes—marrying her home could never be considered a loss!"

To say Warren had absolutely no thoughts in his heart would obviously be a lie. But as someone who had actually spent some time interacting with Inanna, he could clearly sense that Inanna had little interest in him.

Or rather, he felt that Miss Innana seemed interested only in Puki.

This time, his coming here was less out of expectation and more a polite response to Duke Alama’s invitation.

Warren merely gave a wry smile, did not respond, and tossed back the rest of the liquid in his cup.

However, a voice thick with oppressive weight sounded from behind the two of them at that moment.

"My dear nephew... what was it you just said? Your uncle here is getting on in years, my ears don’t work so well anymore. Why don’t you... say it again?"

Alama’s broad, powerful hand reached out from the shadows like an iron clamp, gripping Lorenzo’s second son’s chin—not too hard, not too soft—and the Duke’s face even wore the "kindly" smile of an elder.

"Come to think of it, haven’t you long since started your own family? How is it that you’re so invested in this banquet I’m hosting for my daughter as well? Don’t tell me... you also have some plans where my Inanna is concerned?"

Lorenzo’s second son went instantly rigid from head to toe, cold sweat pouring down as he dared not move a muscle. "Un-uncle! How would I dare! It’s only that Father is stuck up front and couldn’t attend, so he sent me in his stead to offer congratulations to you and Inanna... I have no ulterior motives! Truly no ulterior motives at all!"

Only after the other had practically sworn oaths and vows in his repeated assurances did Alama slowly loosen his grip, even going so far as to straighten the rumpled collar he’d just crumpled.

He then turned to Warren, who was standing by like a quail in winter, and gave his shoulder an encouraging pat—so forceful that the young Knight staggered—before walking away.

Alama’s gaze swept across the hall once more. Those young talents who’d been invited—some handsome and tall, some mild and refined, others with eyes brimming with ambition—all fell under his scrutiny.

He nodded inwardly to himself. For this banquet, he had spared no expense.

Because mushrooms had caused Delicious to drop in value, he had even brought out all the Advanced Delicious berries he’d been storing in his vault.

He had also prepared other precious trinkets afterward, all just to give Inanna the grandest of occasions.

However, Alama’s decent mood was soon ruined; his gaze caught a figure that absolutely should not have appeared here—Viscount Edin.

Alama had very deliberately not invited him, and yet here he was at the banquet.

There was only one possibility: the star of tonight’s event, Inanna, had deliberately brought him along.

"That... old fool with no sense of timing..." Alama clenched his teeth.

Could it be that his daughter really had feelings for that older man...?

And with the shrewdness and sense of timing Viscount Edin had displayed in the past, there was no way he could fail to understand the implication behind not receiving an invitation.

Yet he still came, braving the risk of offending him completely to show up here.

The only explanation... was that he had already made up his mind—to win Inanna over, no matter the cost?

At that thought, Alama’s teeth were about to grind to powder.

Not far away, Edin was drenched in cold sweat, pretending not to feel that lion-like stare...

...

When all the guests had gathered, Inanna finally made her entrance amidst the hall’s expectant gazes.

Pink hair, pink eyes, a lavish ball gown—without a doubt, she became the sole focus of attention in that moment.

For the safety of the guests, Inanna had specially taken off those two binding rings for the time being.

She didn’t want human ice sculptures or spit-roasted humans appearing at her own birthday banquet.

On stage, Duke Alama stood with his daughter, delivering the opening speech.

Below the stage, No. 4 was already "puki puki"-ing along in a little trot as it went to find No. 5.

The two Puki had long since sensed each other; now they touched caps lightly as a greeting, then shrank back into a corner and started chattering away in the Fungal Network.

And once the banquet began, No. 5 was even dragged to the center by No. 4 to dance a song.

Though their dancing was utterly without form—just flailing about however they liked—who would make things hard for two Puki?

Quite a few noble young ladies let out little "waa waa" cries at the sight of the two Puki.

Fei Ling did know how to dance that sort of campfire dance Adventurers did, but it clearly didn’t suit the atmosphere here, so they just huddled off to the side, eating as they watched.

As the star of the banquet, Inanna’s first dance was with her father, Alama.

There was no need to mention Inanna—before sixteen she had received standard noble education, so her dancing was naturally quite proficient.

What was surprising was that Duke Alama, whose status rested on his military merit, could actually move his burly frame in such an elegant, melodic dance.

And when the first dance ended, many people were itching to step forward and invite Inanna.

She, however, scooped up No. 4 and No. 5 ahead of them and went straight to sit beside Edin, chatting idly with him.

No. 5 was tense all over at first, but under Inanna’s gentle kneading and rubbing, it soon turned as soft as No. 4, thoroughly enjoying itself.

From a distance, Vera and the other two were all briefly stunned by what they saw.

Whenever someone tried to approach and invite her to dance, Inanna would simply look at them quietly until that person withdrew of their own accord.

Even Phineas was no exception.

After all, getting scared off by a look was a pity, but if he extended an invitation and got rejected, that would be truly humiliating.

He secretly gnashed his teeth, never imagining that his biggest rival this time would actually be an old fossil like Edin.

Miss Inanna’s taste is way too weird, isn’t it?

Alama watched this scene from afar, hating only that he hadn’t brought his Greatsword with him, or he’d have split this old bull trying to munch on his family’s tender grass in half with one swing!

Edin felt like he was sitting on needles, yet could only silently endure the pressure.

Because... the boss had given him far too much.

...

Seeing the ball progressing rather blandly, Alama made a snap decision and brought out the side event he’d prepared in advance—sparring.

Since the Kingdom’s founding, it had long faced the threat of the Empire.

So compared to pointless formalities, this land valued strength more, and the noble class was no exception.

Arranging a "stop-before-it-goes-too-far" sparring match after the ball at this moment naturally struck no one as abrupt.

The young noble scions were all itching to try, each wanting to use this chance to decide who was stronger and show off their edge.

Alama promised that the winner could choose any piece of gear from his treasury, which was tempting enough, but what everyone was really tacitly competing for was the perfectly logical opportunity that came with victory—to invite Inanna to talk in the garden.

Under those circumstances, Inanna would almost certainly not refuse.

What happened afterward would naturally depend on one’s own ability to win Inanna’s favor.

This wasn’t a real deathmatch arena; the rules were crude and simple: one person defended the stage while everyone else challenged in turn, and the last one standing won.

In theory, appearing as late as possible carried the greatest advantage, but that would inevitably make one look cowardly and lacking in grace.

Phineas and Warren stood up almost at the same time.

It was just that their thoughts were completely different.

Warren only wanted to get up early, win a few rounds, then surrender with dignity.

That way he could both give the Duke an explanation and avoid the final awkwardness of being rejected by Miss Inanna.

Phineas, on the other hand, was in a completely different state; young and sharp, he was a universally acknowledged genius in noble circles, or he wouldn’t be so determined to win at this banquet.

The attendants brought the two their weapons, and around the stage the crowd cheered them on.

Seeing that his opponent was Phineas, Warren also put away his original casual mindset.

He just wanted to surrender with dignity, not be beaten off the stage in disgrace.

Unfortunately, once they actually crossed blades, he discovered that Phineas was even stronger than he’d expected!

In just a few exchanges he was forced into a flustered, defensive mess—this was strength close to Palace Level!

Realizing the gap between them, Warren, though unwilling, knew from real experience commanding battles that showing off would only bring more trouble, so he was already preparing to step back and admit defeat.

Phineas seemed to have noticed this too, but he clearly didn’t want to let Warren off so gracefully.

[Gale Wind]!

A knife-like storm wind was whipped up, blowing the unwary Warren into the air, sending him hurtling toward the banquet table nearby.

His life wasn’t in danger, but ending up a total mess and losing all face was unavoidable.

Phineas, meanwhile, stretched out a hand as if he wanted to grab Warren but just couldn’t make it in time.

Right then, Vera, who’d still been eating by the table, sprang up, grabbed Warren by the back of his collar, spun to bleed off the force, and landed steadily to the side.

Warren, who had thought he was about to make a colossal fool of himself, looked in mild surprise at Vera, who had grabbed him: "Th... thanks."

Vera waved it off without caring.

Only then did Phineas also run over, saying that he’d accidentally used too much force.

Warren couldn’t say much either; after conceding, he left the hall. His formalwear had been slashed in several places and would have to be changed.

Alama watched this scene and frowned.

Phineas might think he’d done it rather discreetly, but how could someone like Alama, who had guarded the border for years, fail to see what was going on?

He couldn’t help feeling a bit put off by Phineas’s somewhat petty temperament, but this wasn’t the time to call him out.

And after Phineas easily defeated a few more challengers, he actually took the initiative to turn his spearhead toward Edin, who seemed not to have planned on taking the stage.

"Viscount Edin, I’ve heard a bit about your exploits as a senior. Since the opportunity is rare, why don’t we have a little spar?"

This was actually a good thing for Alama; right now he just wanted to see Edin get beaten up.

Only, watching Edin accept the challenge and walk onto the stage, his instincts suddenly told him something felt off.

So Alama quietly activated several Magic Items on his person, and was then surprised to see Edin still sitting right beside Inanna, not having moved at all?!

...

On the other side, in Inanna’s arms, No. 4 was squirming around; it was already itching to jump up onto the stage to fight, and win glory for the Mushroom Race!