December 1, 1349, Wednesday.
The temperature this year seemed noticeably colder than in previous years. Many places in Backlund had already begun to freeze over.
In the early hours of the morning, snowflakes would occasionally drift down. As a result, many of Backlund's nobles stirred up a trend of going out at dawn to admire the snowfall.
When the sky was just beginning to brighten, while the crimson moon had not yet fully faded from sight, one would brew a cup of good tea and sit on the balcony of their spacious home, sipping tea while enjoying the scattered flakes of snow.
"Phew, it really is a bit cold today." Maric raised the hot tea before him with one hand to warm his slightly chilly palms, then drank another glass of grape wine.
As a Beyonder, it was impossible for him to react to such cold. But as he put it himself, he was still human, flesh and blood, not a numb, unfeeling corpse.
On this point, Hastur strongly agreed with him.
The acting of a Beyonder was exactly like this: you must always remember that you are only acting.
Hastur looked at the faintly bright sky as light snow fell, let out a soft breath, and drank a cup of stomach-warming hot tea, feeling much more comfortable all over.
This trend of admiring snow in Backlund at the time of early dawn was something he himself had started.
Perhaps because news of his upcoming departure to Southville County had reached Greg and Hibbert, the two of them often invited him out to drink and have fun. Hastur did not refuse.
But after it happened too many times, he began to feel bored and weary. So he deliberately invited Greg and Hibbert to come drink tea and admire the snow at this hour when the sky was just beginning to brighten.
Who would have thought that, as a result, a so-called fashionable trend would gradually rise within noble circles, claiming this to be an enjoyment exclusive to the nobility.
"You really know how to enjoy yourself." Sharon, who was sitting opposite Hastur, glanced at him with a somewhat complicated look.
At this moment, Hastur was reclining sideways on a specially customized soft couch. Beneath it was a luxurious and precious white tiger fur, and over him was draped an exquisitely embroidered blanket sewn entirely by hand.
On his chest, Ariella was lying on the blanket, sleeping soundly.
"It's about time to enjoy life a little. After all, once I leave Backlund, I probably won't have such good material conditions anymore."
As he answered Sharon, Hastur gently stroked Ariella's head.
Since his advancement to Sequence 6, Baron of Corruption, more than a month had already passed.
During this month, aside from invitations from people like Greg, Hibbert, and Glaint, he had rarely gone out.
Most days, he stayed at home, doing things that were luxurious and somewhat decadent.
He was still exploring ways to spend money and enjoy himself, searching for how to more quickly act as a Baron of Corruption.
When it came to corruption, it generally couldn't be separated from material pleasures like food, drink, and entertainment. Of course, one could also act from a spiritual angle.
A corrupted and degenerate heart was likewise very suitable for acting in this pathway.
"Come, have a taste of this Snow-Red pastry, jointly made by three dessert masters."
Hastur warmly entertained Maric and Sharon, also reaching out to take a piece of the red-and-white, exquisitely beautiful pastry and put it into his own mouth.
If Sharon and Maric weren't here, Hastur would probably have had the maids take turns feeding him food. He would only need to open his mouth, half-close his eyes, and slowly enjoy himself.
During this period, following Greg and the others, he had seen quite a lot of noble extravagance. His current level of enjoyment simply couldn't compare to theirs at all.
"Hastur, you've fallen into decadence!" Maric ate the dessert while letting out a lamenting cry of disappointment.
"Yes, I've thought it through. In this life, one should enjoy oneself more while young. Maric, think about it, when you're old, your hair white, your teeth fallen out, will you still have the ability to enjoy a good life?"
"…That's sophistry."
"There's no truer reasoning in the world than this. Seize the day, this is also a way of living."
"Ah, Hastur, you weren't like this before."
As Maric sighed, he finished yet another bottle of fine grape wine worth ten pounds and six sols.
Sharon's gaze flickered slightly, but she did not say anything more about Hastur's behavior.
She was just a little unable to believe it. If she remembered correctly, when she first met Hastur, he had only just advanced to Sequence 8, Barbarian, right?
In half a year, he had already advanced again, twice in succession?
This speed was very fast, already close to catching up with her, making her feel a rare sense of pressure.
"Miss Sharon, when I leave Backlund and head to my territory in Southville County, would you be willing to go with me and admire the southern sea views?"
Hastur's sudden words made Sharon's heart stir slightly, but her expression remained calm.
"At the current stage, I won't leave Backlund."
"Is that so? What a pity. I was hoping to experience a true adventure journey outside together with you."
Sharon's thin lips moved, stopping the words she wanted to say. Her azure eyes looked toward the sky outside the balcony as she said lightly, "The outside world is very dangerous. Backlund is one of the few places we can call shelter."
"Backlund isn't necessarily that safe either." Hastur said this with some emotion, then stopped the topic and changed the subject.
"Then it seems I'll have to hurry and write a few interesting stories during this time, so I can leave them behind for Miss Sharon to pass the time."
Sharon originally wanted to say that messengers were very convenient, but in the end she didn't.
She only looked at the light snow that was about to end outside.
Right now, it wasn't yet the coldest time in Backlund. It wouldn't be until late January next year that Backlund would welcome its coldest season.
Yet in previous years, when Backlund was at its coldest, it was roughly the same temperature as now. This meant that January next year might break Backlund's record for coldest temperatures.
"I'm really looking forward to Backlund getting heavy snow. That should be much more beautiful than now. With just this little snow, it's even hard to wet someone's clothes," Maric interjected.
Hastur smiled and said, "Perhaps this is already the warmest winter Backlund will have in the days to come."
"No way, right?"
"I have the same feeling," Sharon also spoke up.
"Prepare more coats and food. Be careful not to starve to death in the future." Hastur said this jokingly.
"Heh, I'm from the Chained Pathway. Freezing me to death is impossible. It's nobles like you, with such idle limbs, who are more likely to end up like that."
"Southville County is much warmer than Backlund. This time, I'm going there to escape the cold."
The three chatted idly for more than half an hour. The sun had already begun to rise, and the light snow everywhere melted into tiny droplets under the sunlight.
Maric and Sharon left. Ariella also woke from her slumber, licked the palm of Hastur's hand, and began meowing nonstop in an ingratiating manner.
"Ariella, how about having a few new outfits custom-made just for you?"
"Meow!" Ariella resolutely opposed this suggestion!
"Don't be so resistant. The weather will only get colder. Your fur isn't warm enough."
"Meow!!!"
She, Ariella, would not easily compromise on this matter!
Once something like this happened the first time, there would definitely be a second time!
"I can reward you with your favorite dried fish. They're small silver fish from the northernmost sea area of the Feysac Empire."
"Meow?"
"There aren't many of them. If you don't buy them early, once the seawater freezes and production drops sharply, you won't be able to taste them."
"Meow." Ariella lowered her proudly raised head. Sometimes, for the sake of good food, paying a tiny price was worth it.
At this, Hastur thought of the orcs in monster stories.
Orcs are never slaves, unless food and lodging are provided.
In Ariella's case, it should be: Cats never lower their heads, unless dried fish are offered.
...
In the Empress Borough, within a relatively secluded royal estate, inside a tightly closed room, the lights were dim. Only two figures stood facing each other.
Mr. A spoke unhurriedly, "Don't you understand? We of the Aurora Order will not participate in this operation of yours."
"This was something we had already agreed upon earlier. I want to know, why did you suddenly go back on your word?"
Standing opposite Mr. A was Panatiya, the one known within the Witch Sect as Lady Despair.
"Our Aurora Order doesn't need to explain its reasons to you. In short, the previous plan is canceled. Whether you're willing or not, this matter will not involve the Aurora Order."
Even when facing a Sequence 4 Despair, Mr. A's tone was neither humble nor overbearing. He didn't care in the slightest about the other party's demigod status.
Panatiya sneered. "Heh, just you, a single Mr. A, do you really get to decide this?"
Mr. A merely looked at her with a pitying gaze, as if looking at a clown, waved his hand, and said, "I've said all I need to say. I have no interest in wasting time here with you."
"This is a revelation from your Lord?" Panatiya seemed to think of something, her expression changing slightly.
But Mr. A gave her no chance to answer. He pushed open the window and transformed into a gust of violent wind, disappearing through it.
"Could it really be a new oracle from the True Creator?" Panatiya was somewhat uncertain. Mr. A's attitude just now was worth pondering.
"Forget it. I'll leave this matter for the Saintess of White to decide." Panatiya left the room and went to the second floor of the estate, to a room at the end of the right-hand corridor.
Inside the room, by the dressing table near the window, sat a young girl who looked innocent and adorable, gentle and sweet.
Her black hair was smooth, her face rather round, her eyes long and narrow. Her features were not particularly striking, but when combined, they gave people a very comfortable, reassuring feeling.
Panatiya glanced at the ring on the girl's finger and smiled. "Triss, you were very well-behaved today. You didn't even try to escape while I was talking business with someone."
The girl called Triss didn't speak. She only stared at the face in the mirror, a face that was becoming more and more unfamiliar.
Clearly, that person was herself, yet she felt it was strangely unfamiliar, as if it were another person who merely shared the same appearance.