Overawed by Force? Overawed by Force!

At noon in summer, the blazing sun scorched the earth.

The streets of Eagle Town were unusually bustling. Carriages bearing all manner of crests filled the roads in an unbroken line, while fine horses occasionally weaved past them.

More than a century had passed without any major wars. The nobles' lives had grown ever more corrupt and extravagant, and they had gradually become accustomed to traveling by carriage. Yet some Old Faction nobles still preferred to ride alone.

Anger was one such old-fashioned man.

Leading his eldest son Judra and three sworn knights, he rode a warhorse crossbred with magical beasts past one slow carriage after another. Just as they left the town, he spotted a figure riding a white horse.

The horse was silver-white from head to hoof, almost dazzling beneath the sunlight. The contours of its muscles were clearly visible beneath its hide, and its thick hooves resembled four pillars. Sharp pale-yellow spikes grew from the knees of each leg, and upon closer inspection, faint currents of electricity could be seen swirling around them.

A Second-tier Magical Beast, an Electric Horn Silver Eye Horse. It was Viscount John's mount.

"Viscount John, it has been a long time." Anger rode up beside John and adjusted his mount's pace to ride alongside him. "Your bearing has not diminished in the slightest."

"The feeling is mutual." John replied blandly. "Still, Baron Anger, your body is in even better condition. When I reach your age, I may not be able to mount a horse in armor."

"Hahaha!" As though he had failed to hear the mockery, Anger laughed loudly. "I cannot compare to Your Excellency's great wealth and estates. I can only use a suit of armor to make myself look presentable."

"Still, it was rather ill-considered of you to come dressed in formal attire this time. Lowlifes have always feared authority; they do not understand gratitude or kindness."

"A hooligan like Raven, who only inherited a Nobility Title by luck, can only be overawed by force!"

Seeing the hint of helplessness flash through John's eyes, Anger grew even more smug.

In principle, one noble visiting another was certainly allowed to wear armor.

But the Kingdom of Keynes had enjoyed peace for a hundred years. The nobles had long thrown their vigilance into some ravine, and no one did such a thing anymore.

That was precisely why Anger had chosen to do the opposite.

Raven was merely a lowlife. He would not understand the difference between Third Tier and Fourth Tier, but the armor on Anger's body would make him understand who was not to be provoked.

In Anger's view, a little intimidation would be enough to make that Little Bee cry as it squeezed out every drop of its honey!

"Am I being too harsh?" Anger asked smugly. "I heard that Baron Raven's newly trained Private Soldiers have only been drilling for a month. If I frighten them into running away, I am afraid it will not look very good for him."

John's hooked nose twitched. He lightly squeezed his legs, and the mount beneath him quietly lengthened its stride.

Anger urged his horse after him, feeling immensely pleased with himself.

John was more than ten years younger than him, yet held a higher title and possessed greater strength. He had even previously seized Shining Gold Town, the most prosperous town in Eagle Territory. Being able to gain even a slight upper hand over him was truly satisfying.

The towering Eagle Fortress gradually came into full view, stirring a measure of jealousy in Anger's heart.

The castle faced south with its back to the north, enclosed by walls on all four sides. It was eighty meters long from north to south and sixty-five meters wide from east to west, with a five-meter-wide moat surrounding it for protection.

The outer walls stood five meters high and were built entirely from black Granite Marble, sturdy and beautiful alike. Battlements and firing slits lined the tops of the walls. Once the drawbridge was raised, it became a perfect war fortress!

Most eye-catching of all was the seventeen-meter-high main structure of the castle. Its carefully designed outer walls curved elegantly, while its soaring spires resembled a lover's body—captivating and alluring. Place a Magic Crystal Cannon atop it, and not even an army of several thousand could hope to break in!

By comparison, his Ironforge Castle seemed cramped and narrow. Because it lacked level terrain, it could only be built upon hills. Its area was merely half that of Eagle Fortress, and its main structure stood only ten meters tall.

How had such a fine castle ended up in the hands of a hooligan like Raven!?

"Eagle Fortress lies ahead. Please dismount and proceed on foot, my lords!" A vigorous shout pulled Anger from his thoughts.

Looking ahead, he saw two lines of soldiers stationed to either side outside Eagle Fortress's drawbridge. Another group stood in two rows atop the drawbridge. There were only a little over thirty of them in total, but their appearance and bearing gave Anger a jolt.

They wore brown Leather Armor. Its surface was smooth and even, yet it lacked the flashy sheen of new goods. At a glance, it was clear that the armor had been used for a long time and meticulously maintained.

Under the searing sunlight, the soldiers' hands holding their spears were utterly steady. Their eyes were wide, their bodies ramrod straight. Though sweat streamed down their foreheads, their feet remained rooted like trees.

They hardly looked human. They were like two rows of clay figures, two rows of statues!

Yet their chests still rose and fell.

That powerful shout had come from the mouth of one curly-haired young man among them.

These were Raven's soldiers?

In only one month, he had trained those mud-legged peasants into this state?

I would like to see what you are made of!

"You dare block my way?" Anger urged his horse forward and pointed his riding crop at the young man's face. "Do you know who I am!?"

"Your identity has nothing to do with me." The young man showed no fear whatsoever as he repeated, "Eagle Fortress lies ahead. Please dismount and proceed on foot!"

"Heh, you truly have some nerve!" Anger was so enraged by the hardline response that he laughed. He squeezed his legs, and the fine horse beneath him took another step forward. "What if I insist on entering?"

Though already past sixty, he remained powerfully built. Although he had not stirred his battle aura, his presence made it impossible to doubt that he would spur his horse forward the next moment!

The young man's expression changed, and he took two steps back.

Anger smiled smugly. As expected, they were all for show.

Lowlifes were still lowlifes. No matter how convincing they looked, they were merely obedient lambs!

But his expression changed the very next instant.

"Enemy attack!!!"

At the young man's shout, the previously motionless formation suddenly sprang into action.

The soldiers formed two rows, leveled their spears, and in barely a dozen seconds became a solid wall of men that completely blocked the entrance to Eagle Fortress's drawbridge!

What a quick reaction.

Viscount John, who had been watching from behind them, was secretly astonished. He was already fifty-five this year and had seen all kinds of forces: mercenaries, Bandits, even the Empire's Iron Legion and the Church's Light Knight Order.

Yet no other force could form a battle formation in barely a dozen seconds.

Even John's carefully cultivated Snow Maple Legion might surpass them in individual strength and equipment, but it could never match such discipline.

Just moments ago, John had regretted not coming in full armor, but now he was beginning to feel fortunate instead. With great leisure, he settled in to watch the show.

Anger was now caught between advancing and retreating, anxiety flooding his heart.

Madmen. They were utter madmen!

Those Private Soldiers must have received Raven's orders, or they would never dare point weapons at him.

How dared Raven? He was merely a lowborn hooligan. How dared he brandish weapons at a noble baron like me?!

Yet Anger had to admit that the move was indeed effective.

As the Baron of Iron Furnace Ridge, no matter how strong he was, he still had to play by the nobles' rules.

Arriving at a funeral in full armor was already somewhat improper. If he pressed forward without identifying himself and others raised weapons against him, that was only natural.

If he attacked Eagle Territory's Private Soldiers now, it would be no different from declaring war on Eagle Territory!

He was not afraid of fighting Eagle Territory, but under the current circumstances, declaring war was equivalent to slapping the royal family in the face. Even if he flattened Eagle Territory, he would only be using his own blood to benefit others.

Could that Little Bee have anticipated this, which was why he had arranged such a tactic!?

Impossible. Absolutely impossible!

"Lord Baron, it would be better to dismount." Judra moved up from behind him. "Today is Baron Donald's funeral, after all..."

Anger turned to look at Judra, his eyes filled with disappointed frustration.

Dismounting now would be no different from grinding his own face into the dirt and making Raven famous!

Gritting his teeth, he slowly raised his arm, ready to lead his knights in forcing their way through!

Just then, a clear voice rang out. "I was wondering who had honored us with their presence. So it is Baron Anger."

Along with the voice appeared a black-haired man dressed in a baron's formal attire.

The formalwear was woven from wool, a neat and clean deep sea-blue overall. Its front was open, revealing a white silk inner shirt.

Large patterns woven from gold and silver adorned the cuffs and lapels, making it appear noble and elegant. An eagle soaring through the skies was embroidered over the left breast, its beak open in a piercing cry. Its eyes, carved from clear amber, perfectly displayed its sharp and disdainful pride.

Not everyone could carry off such formal attire, but on this man, it merely highlighted his grace and noble air without overshadowing the man himself.

This was, of course, Raven.

He walked behind the wall of soldiers and said in a reproachful tone, "How could you treat honored guests this way? They are not enemies. Move aside at once!"

"Yes, Lord Baron!" The young man—Simon—was the first to shout, "Return to your posts!"

Amid orderly footsteps, the Private Soldiers split into three groups once more and returned to their original positions.

The tense atmosphere melted away. Raven placed a hand over his chest and gave a flawless bow. "My apologies, Baron Anger. I gave you a fright."

Anger's cheek twitched slightly. He wanted nothing more than to slap Raven to death on the spot, but in the end, he drew a deep breath and accepted the offered way out.

He dismounted and walked over to Raven. "Baron Raven, you truly are skilled at training soldiers. They certainly look impressive. Are you planning to send them to Monen City's public bathhouses?"

In this world, public bathhouses did not merely allow customers to clean themselves. They also provided certain additional services, for both men and women. Sometimes, men were even more popular than women.

Anger had truly brought this upon himself. Raven spent his days in Monen City's underworld. When it came to bickering and insulting others, he was far more than a match for an old man like Anger, who spent every day cooped up in his castle.

"Oh, so public bathhouses are the key to training soldiers. No wonder I always felt something was missing." Raven smiled as he shot back, "By that reasoning, your soldiers must have been trained according to public bathhouse standards. No wonder your territory's income is so good."

Anger's large nose turned crimson. "You certainly have a sharp tongue."

"Thank you for the compliment. Rhetoric is also a required subject for nobles," Raven replied with a smile.

As more and more nobles arrived and hushed discussions began to rise, Anger had no desire to linger. He snorted coldly and walked inside.

"My apologies, Baron Raven," Judra said quietly. "My father has always had that temperament. I hope you will not take offense."

Raven asked, "Did something happen?"

Judra froze, nodded in acknowledgment, then left.

Viscount John had watched everything unfold, and his opinion of Raven improved somewhat.

Soldiers who merely looked impressive could not fight wars, but Raven's Private Soldiers were certainly no ornamental cushions.

The fact that they dared level spears at a baron was enough to prove that they possessed sufficient courage and bravery. Sooner or later, they would become qualified soldiers.

Whatever else might be said, Raven was indeed a qualified heir, at least when it came to training soldiers.

"Viscount John." Raven put away his smile and bowed. "Thank you for attending my uncle's funeral."

This display once again surprised John.

Raven had just crushed Baron Anger's momentum. This should have been the moment when he was full of high spirits, yet he now displayed sufficient restraint and humility, even revealing an appropriately measured grief.

This was not something a worthless hooligan could do. From this alone, he was at least clever enough to know whom he could offend and whom he had to remain friendly with.

John was beginning to understand why Donald had chosen Raven as his heir.

Raven was practically a natural-born noble.

John dismounted, handed his reins to an attendant, then stepped forward and returned the bow. "Baron Donald was an upright and great man. I see his shadow in you. I hope that under your leadership, the Griffith Family will rise to glory once more."

Raven said, "Thank you for your blessing."

The two of them chatted pleasantly, but Anger was so furious that he felt ready to lose his mind!

Though he had avoided the worst outcome, John had still witnessed his humiliation.

He had spoken of overawing others by force, only to be overawed by force himself. How could he possibly endure this!?

If force would not work, then he would use words!

So long as he could find even the slightest breach of noble etiquette, he would seize the chance to explode later, ruin this funeral, and teach Raven a proper lesson.

Some people could not be offended!

Yet the sight inside the castle left him so depressed that he wanted to vomit blood.

The carpet in the hall had been replaced with a perfectly proper black one. The dozen or so tables and over a hundred chairs were all made of rosewood, widely recognized among nobles. They were covered with soft white cotton cloth, neither excessively extravagant nor shabby.

The table nearest the coffin, the main table for this gathering, had been raised slightly so that no one could mistake it.

When his gaze fell on the area beside the main table, his eyes finally lit up.

Many glass goblets had been placed there. They were crystalline and highly transparent, truly capable of making fine wine appear more enticing. Such a glass cost thirty Silver Coins apiece, so there was naturally no issue there.

The issue was the wine itself.

The bottles holding the wine looked attractive, but they did not even have labels!

He was an expert wine taster. One look at the color told him that the bottles did not contain any high-end liquor, but Flowing Amber.

Using such inferior wine to pass as fine wine and entertain distinguished guests at his own uncle's funeral—improper, utterly improper!

The excuse was admittedly rather forced, but so what? Raven came from a hooligan's background, while he was an established baron!

A faint smile curved Anger's lips. He could already envision the scene—when the ceremony reached its climax and everyone needed to toast, he would smash his wineglass on the spot and expose Raven's seemingly courteous facade.

He would turn Raven's inauguration ceremony into a complete joke!

Feeling relaxed again, he found a seat and sat down. He placed his helmet on the table, rubbed his enormous nose, and said to Judra:

"Son, in a moment, I will show you how to display the might of our family!"