The Divine Armor of the Old Century（Book 1）

Chapter 119

Lloyd finally managed to extricate himself from the floral entanglement that had ensnared him, the mixed aromas and incessant chatter creating a veritable pink hell.

Stooping low, taking advantage of the crowd's cover, Lloyd dragged Celia to the rear courtyard. This place was just as lavish, shadows playing over the opulence not fully illuminated by the lighting. In the center stood a pool, its surface covered with vivid flower petals.

Lloyd couldn't quite grasp the pleasure of the wealthy. Did they really intend to swim in this frigid winter?

A faint melody began, a poet leaning against a lush tree, softly singing, casting a mysterious veil over the beautiful night.

Lloyd found himself momentarily entranced, the poet's features obscured in the dim shadows.

"Never thought I'd see a poet here," Lloyd said, snapping back to reality with a wry smile.

This wasn't just any poet; this was a bard, a profession long abandoned by the times. In eras where communication was less advanced, bards played a crucial role in relaying tales of old, but now, with the advent of telegrams and telephones, their ancient oral tradition had become obsolete, even newspapers outstripping them in relevance.

"What's wrong?" Celia asked, surprised at Lloyd's sudden interest.

Lloyd shook his head, dismissing it as nothing.

The serene courtyard exuded a delicate elegance, and Lloyd and Celia sat by the poolside, seemingly unnoticed by the guests who had yet to recognize Celia as the grand prize winner. Lloyd found himself oddly disappointed by this.

But the tranquility was soon disrupted. Lloyd glanced up to see a middle-aged man entering, flanked by nobles. Even from a distance, the man exuded an air of nobility, his attire a stark contrast to the ostentatious nobles, more like an unadorned, sharp sword.

Respectful murmurs reached Lloyd's ears, his keen hunter's senses picking up on the identity of the man: Duke Salicardo, the host of the ball. Lloyd knew little of the duke, only that he was an economic powerhouse whose family had risen through war profiteering during the Glorious War, controlling numerous large enterprises across Enlwig.

This explained the opulence of the ball—Duke Salicardo had the wealth to spare.

In Lloyd's mind, he categorized the powerful figures he encountered, including the one beside him. The Stuart family had no real power or industry, its members having mostly perished in the southern war zone, with Lloyd rescuing Celia from Goulonaro. Without her, the Stuart lineage would have ended.

Unlike the Phoenix family, which maintained and expanded its bloodline, the Stuarts had endured countless hardships, leaving them with only a legacy of honor. Thus, Celia was a mascot of sorts, a symbol of honor linking war-awarded families together.

Yet, this mascot wielded immense influence, with the war-awarded families still upholding their ancient oaths, granting Celia access to all of Enlwig despite lacking substantial wealth.

"Shouldn't you at least say hello? Even if it's not about choosing sides, it's still polite," Lloyd suggested to the dazed Celia.

Celia shook her head, declining. "There are too many people. I'll go when it's quieter."

The nobles surrounded Duke Salicardo like wolves around prey, eager to win his favor. Many nobles had become impoverished due to Queen Victoria's regulations during the Glorious War, rules passed in the heat of battle without anticipating victory. Now, they clung to remnants of their former glory, hoping to find salvation through connections at the ball.