Lake Impash had frozen over, its icy surface as smooth as a mirror.
Many visitors had brought their children to skate and play, leaving streaks and watery scratches across the lake's beautiful "face."
But Ron was the worst offender of them all.
He smashed open the ice that had refrozen overnight, carving out a crater on the lake's face. Then he reset the fishing net beneath the hole and poured live fish into it.
A reclining chair, a stove, a hotpot, and pine-needle tea.
Green ant new-brewed wine, red clay little stove.
That was roughly the mood.
With a flick of his wrist, Ron cast his line neatly into the round patch of water—about the size of a table. At the same time, he projected his consciousness into the puppet in the City of Chaos, fishing leisurely while multitasking.
"What are you doing?"
"R-Reading."
"What book?"
"Human Economic Theory."
Through the puppet's vision, Ron saw a passage in Nora's book:
"Summer is coming again. The Viscount specially bought me several interesting outfits, hoping I would change into a different one every night. At times like this, one must not let a man have his way. The most interesting one or two should be saved for later—taken out only after he grows bored."
If that was truly from Human Economic Theory, Ron was willing to eat the book on the spot.
"Liars turn into little pigs."
"I'm not lying…" Nora squirmed guiltily, slipping The Viscountess's Rise to Power Diary into the drawer and revealing the book underneath—Human Economic Theory.
"When will you be back, Boss? It's already January," Nora asked, quickly changing the subject.
"Mm… Soon, I think." Ron calculated briefly. "Including travel time, I should be back by the end of the month at the latest."
"Oh… that's a pity."
"Hm? What's wrong?"
"In a few days, it'll be Grandma's death anniversary. I wanted to visit the mountain to pay my respects. It would've been nice if you could come…"
The "Grandma" Nora spoke of had passed away last winter.
She had been a kind old woman who used to cook porridge for the street children. Nora had been one of those children.
With the anniversary approaching, it was only natural that she wished to pay her respects.
Ron felt his heart soften. He sighed.
"I'm sorry. I probably won't make it back in time. Once I return, take me to visit her."
"Okay!" Nora nodded firmly.
Though the two academies had already taken action, and he would meet with both principals tomorrow to discuss cooperation—
Even if everything were resolved within days and he immediately rushed back to the City of Chaos, it would still take more than ten days.
As for using a spatial teleportation array?
He hadn't used one when coming to the Royal Capital. How could he justify spending massive amounts of elemental stones to power one now that things were nearly settled?
Even if accompanying Nora to visit the old woman felt meaningful, he wouldn't go that far.
"If you go to the mountain, inform the patrol team in advance. Don't go alone—have Yuna accompany you," Ron instructed seriously.
Nora nodded obediently. "I will."
"Alright. Keep reading. I've got a visitor here."
"Mhm."
Ron withdrew his consciousness and turned his head.
Another reclining chair had appeared beside him. Soven plopped down into it.
"What? Not spending more time with Panny?" Ron asked.
"Heh." Soven lifted his chin smugly. "That little girl's still lying in bed asleep."
"Things went smoothly, I assume?"
"Obviously." Soven rolled his eyes. "If it weren't for that face of yours, I would've sealed the deal on horseback yesterday in the Royal Forest!"
"Being handsome isn't my fault." Ron looked exasperated. "And you've certainly got plenty of tricks."
"On horseback? That's nothing." Soven gave him a pitying look. "In a carriage, in a tree, on a rooftop, inside a girl's wardrobe—anywhere is my battlefield!"
"You're impressive. I dub you King of Field Operations." Ron handed him a cup of pine-needle tea. "Here. Replenish yourself. You must've wasted quite a bit of ammunition yesterday."
"You underestimate me. This prince's supplies are abundant." Despite his bravado, Soven accepted the tea and drained it in one gulp, drinking it like strong liquor.
The two bantered idly. Soven had brought a fishing rod this time and joined Ron in relaxed fishing.
"I thought you were just stalling them. Didn't expect such a major operation behind the scenes," Soven said, fishing a piece of meat from the hotpot and chewing noisily.
"I didn't orchestrate anything major. Some people simply couldn't bear to see such a pitiful victim as me and were moved by justice to punish evil."
"If they heard you say that, they'd probably want to tear your mouth apart."
Ron smiled faintly. "By then, I'd already have their heads shoved into this hotpot."
"Ah, and what about dear Miss Eileen? She is your first wife, after all."
"This won't truly affect her. At most, she'll be neglected for a while." Ron shook his head. "I can't actually marry her. As long as she remains Mia's etiquette teacher, her life won't be disrupted."
"What a heartless man. Why not be more broad-minded like me?"
"That's promiscuity."
"I am sincerely in love with every girl. Don't slander my honor!"
"Didn't you say the night before last you were with several girls at once? Do you have multiple hearts to love them all sincerely?"
"Damn it! Why nitpick that kind of thing? Between men and women, happiness is what matters!"
"I disagree."
"Fledgling."
"Scumbag."
"Fledgling."
"Scumbag."
By noon, Soven hadn't caught a single fish. Finally growing impatient, he packed up his rod and chair to leave.
"You owe me a fish. Don't forget."
"What kind of ridiculous rule is that?" Before leaving, Soven grabbed another cup of pine-needle tea. "I'm off to see my little Panny."
"Now you owe me two."
"Yeah, yeah, I'll pay you back next time!"
And off he went to enjoy himself.
Not long after, a figure in deep red robes approached slowly from the lakeshore.
His face was expressionless, his demeanor somewhat somber.
From the corner of his eye, Ron noticed him. Holding his fishing rod casually, a relaxed smile curved on his lips.
By the time the middle-aged man—whom Ron had met several times before—arrived at his side, the fishing rod in Ron's hand began to tremble violently.
Ron steadied the rod as it bent into a full arc.
"Apologies," he said mildly, a hint of regret in his tone. "The fish has taken the bait. Please wait a moment."