Chapter 9 – Baron Bisadas

The tall man scurried over to Punk and performed a completely distorted noble servant’s bow with exaggerated mannerisms. As he tried to bend his waist deeper, his inelastic hemp clothes creaked audibly.

Clearly, his movements were merely learned through hearsay—he likely had never witnessed a real noble servant’s bow in person.

Punk had no intention of acknowledging this awkward, improper gesture. He wasn’t surprised that the man had recognized his identity as a mage; after all, the shimmering glow on his mage robe was unmistakable to anyone with functioning eyes. However, the man’s fawning, sycophantic demeanor and his abrupt approach irritated Punk. Currently in a cautious state, Punk felt an impulse to attack anything that suddenly drew near him.

“Ho-honorable Mage, this… this is the fief of Baron Bisadas. How… how may I… serve you!”

The tall man seemed to sense Punk’s displeasure and took two small steps backward, becoming even more timid and hesitant.

“Take me to your baron”!

Punk’s face was half-hidden beneath the hood of his mage robe, giving him the appearance of a mysterious and noble mage.

The tall man seemed to want to ask something more, but in the end, he only swallowed twice and awkwardly forced out a strained reply.

“P-please follow me, Mage Lord.”

Punk was somewhat surprised by this response. Logically, a noble of baronial rank, even in a small kingdom, should reside in a town, with a fief consisting of dozens of surrounding villages. Punk had expected the tall man to name a town, but judging by his reaction… this baron actually lived in this very village.

It was only through piecemeal “interrogation” of the tall man along the way that Punk learned the baron’s full name was Eklan Bisadas, now in his fifties. He was a fallen—no, more accurately, a destitute minor noble. Rumor had it he had once offended a “powerful figure” and faced suppression as a result, now left with only three villages as his fief. His baron’s manor was built on a small hill south of Moke Village, and this tall man was a servant specifically tasked with managing the commoners for Baron Bisadas.

So, he was just a destitute noble. Punk felt he had been overly cautious. In the Faerûn Plane, any professional could, in theory, speak as an equal to any noble, including the king. Although in reality, “theory” was often influenced by various factors, Punk was, after all, a third-level mage apprentice (having leveled up through continuous meditation and spell practice along the journey). A powerless, destitute baron posed no threat to him!

Still, he needed to come up with a surname for himself to maintain his presence, as in this world, only nobles and professionals were permitted to have surnames—commoners were forbidden from bearing them.

Treading along the uneven rural dirt path, Punk arrived at the visibly dilapidated “villa.” However, as he drew closer, his expression grew increasingly grave. He could sense another professional, at the same apprentice rank as himself, inside the villa—a place so neglected that even its iron fence had rusted.After Punk indicated that the tall man didn’t need to lead the way further, the trembling man who had been frightened by the mysterious mage along the journey practically fled. This made Punk unconsciously stroke his smooth chin.

“Am I really that terrifying?”

Just as Punk was about to tap the Baron’s fence gate with his staff, the main door of the house suddenly burst open with a crash. A figure clad in steel armor, carrying a knight’s shield and lance, leaped from the doorway, covering over ten meters in a single bound and landing precisely outside the iron fence. With a crisp clang of armor, a cloud of dust spread from the knight’s landing spot!

“Wow~, it’s a rare m~age! In this godfors~aken place, there’s actually a professional besides old~ me. That’s re%@#lly~ unbelievable!”

After saying this, he casually kicked away a clod of earth, raising another small cloud of dust.

This “jumping-out” knight was a golden-haired youth who appeared similar in build to Punk, yet he wore what looked like heavy knight’s armor with effortless ease.

This sudden development nearly caused Punk to instinctively begin constructing the spell model for the Apprentice Rank Conjuration spell—Minor Haste—within his soul. He only paused when he saw that this eccentric knight wasn’t making any further hostile moves.

Punk surveyed the surrounding terrain and noticed the knight had landed in a clearing that offered both offensive advantages and defensive retreat options. If his landing spot wasn’t merely coincidental… then he definitely wasn’t as scatterbrained as he appeared on the surface!

“Kane, is this how you treat a guest who has traveled from afar? What happened to all the noble etiquette I taught you!”

A middle-aged man leaning on a cane emerged from the doorway. His golden hair was meticulously styled, every strand perfectly in place, forming a sharp contrast with the disheveled, flying locks of the golden-haired youth beside him. He wore a simple, antiquated gray formal suit with fringes neatly pointing toward the ground.

The middle-aged man strode out of the doorway and performed a standard noble bow with movements so precise they seemed carved from a mold:

“I am Baron Eklan Bisadas. My unruly eldest son—Kane—has made you witness this embarrassing spectacle.”

“Hey hey, how am I unr~uly? This look of mine is sup~er cool…”

The golden-haired youth Kane noisily protested beside him, only stopping his muttering after the Baron glared at him.

“I am Punk Cyan, a traveling mage who was planning to visit the nearby city.”

Punk returned an equally precise mage’s bow, never ceasing to observe the seemingly scatterbrained knight. The Baron’s assessment of his son hadn’t carried any tone of reproach—instead, it radiated strong pride.

“These two are probably playing good cop/bad cop, trying to throw me off balance. Little do they know this trick has been worn out back on Earth.”

While thinking this, Punk remarked impassively:

“It’s quite alright. I can see your eldest son is quite… ‘energetic’!”

Tit for tat, without any courtesy.

Punk was quite displeased with Kane’s sudden, provocative appearance, and now he was using the Baron’s own words to throw it back at them.”Holy shit, you’re only a few years older than me, but that smug face of yours is so damn irritating!”

Kane’s body language seemed particularly animated. His flailing movements made his heavy armor clatter sharply, giving the impression he was about to charge forward and start a fight. However, Punk could sense the Battle Aura within him had actually calmed down.

“Haha, youth certainly brims with vitality.”

In the end, the Baron skillfully seized the moment to lighten the mood with a chuckle.

“If you don’t mind, please stay and join us for a simple meal. You should know, the wheat from Moke Village is exceptionally fragrant.”

“Then I’ll gladly accept your hospitality.”

Since the other party had shown goodwill, Punk saw no reason not to respond with some sincerity. He still needed to obtain information about traveling to the city from the Baron. When both sides possessed comparable strength, sitting down for a “friendly” conversation was necessary. After all, Punk had already used the System to analyze that Kane was also a third-tier professional. Without any conflicting interests, there was no need to provoke conflict unnecessarily. Moreover, Punk was quite curious—how could a professional appear in such a remote backwater? And not just any professional, but a knight, whose rarity was second only to mages?

(End of Chapter)