Ceding E-Rantel, Leaving Behind Lord Fei Fei

Late September, Month of Falling Fire.

Gray, overcast clouds blanketed the skies above the Royal Capital, mirroring the oppressive and furious atmosphere within the court conference room.

Marquis Raeven's face was both ugly and enraged. His hands were clenched tightly together, his gaze dark and uncertain.

Bang!

An exquisite teacup smashed onto the red carpet. Scalding tea soaked into it, while shattered ceramic fragments flew in every direction.

One fragment sliced the cheek of a middle-aged noble kneeling on the floor. A few beads of blood immediately seeped from the wound, dripping with his sweat onto the red carpet below.

The Minister of Internal Affairs, the Minister of War, the Minister of Finance, and the other noble ministers all wore extremely unpleasant expressions as well.

"Your Majesty... Your Majesty..."

The middle-aged noble lowered his head even further, his entire body trembling uncontrollably.

He was the envoy sent to hand over the grain to the Great Forest of Tob. Though he had completed his mission, he had brought back even worse news.

"Tell me what happened again!!" Ramposa III, who had always been fairly mild-mannered, gripped the armrest tightly and growled.

Some time ago.

Barbro and Zanac had managed to gather enough grain by clearing out Eight Fingers' grain warehouses, along with contributions from other nobles.

They had thought handing over the grain would buy the country a period of peace, but instead—

"That Dark Elf said that we had exceeded the deadline set by Ainz Ooal Gown, and that he was extremely angry."

The middle-aged noble envoy swallowed, fear flashing in his eyes as he stammered, "They demanded... they demanded that we... that we cede the fortress city of E-Rantel."

Even a kind old man like Ramposa III had his face turn red with rage. He reached toward his side,