A Strange Engagement

A Strange Engagement

"Father, why are you being so polite to her? She's just a small-time merchant," Themis pouted.

"My dear daughter, she is far from a small-time merchant," Count Moken sighed while rubbing his temples. She was his only daughter, and at her age, she still lacked a sense of proportion; he truly didn't know what to do with her. He carefully chose his words, "Themis, you are a woman. Trying to deal with another woman is never a clever move, and trying to deal with a powerful woman is even more foolish. You cannot simply throw a tantrum just because someone else is currently in the spotlight and has caught the attention of Boite."

He couldn't very well tell his daughter that she shouldn't be jealous just because someone else was more beautiful than her.

Lincoln heard the reason and a playful glint flashed in his eyes. He decided to teach her a small lesson, using his divine power to quietly strengthen the young lady's constitution, particularly her digestive system, granting her an exceptionally healthy body that would easily absorb nutrients.

"Hmph, Boite's eyes were practically popping out of his head when he saw her last time. Just wait until you see how I deal with him next time!" Themis snorted angrily, then suddenly snapped back to reality, "Besides having a bit of beauty and knowing how to do business, what makes her so powerful!"

Count Moken frowned and took a deep breath again. For a woman, that was already quite enough, and besides... his voice carried a hint of irritation this time, "Themis! Use your brain for a moment to prove that the thing on your neck isn't just a ball of vines. To take a merchant guild from a nobody to being famous across the entire continent in less than five years—do you think that can be achieved with just beauty and a brain? Even the masters of the empire, the Lido family, have to rely on the prestige of their founding monarch, the Deity-level powerhouse Aofen Lido, to sit securely on the throne. This Ms. Aier must have a powerhouse behind her, at the very least a Saint-level expert!"

Seeing her father angry, Themis shrank her neck and quickly grabbed her father's arm, shaking it coquettishly. Moken continued, "If I'm not mistaken, that Lincoln from earlier is likely that Saint-level powerhouse."

Hearing the name Lincoln, Themis craned her neck to look at his back, "He looks so young, that's impossible, but he really is handsome. Why does that Aier get all the good things..." Seeing Moken's stern gaze, Themis's voice grew lower and lower.

Moken looked at his own daughter with annoyance. She blamed Boite for having his eyes pop out, but she wasn't any better herself. When they returned, he would have to instruct his wife to discipline her strictly; he could no longer let her have her own way.

The banquet hall was bustling, and a few noble men and women had already begun to dance. Lincoln and Aier stood in a corner of the hall holding wine glasses, watching the scene. From time to time, nobles would come over to chat, but Aier handled all the interactions while Lincoln never spoke a word. The difference in their levels of life was too vast; to Lincoln, these mortals were like young children. As long as they didn't offend him, he wouldn't feel a thing.

Time passed quickly, and the auspicious hour arrived as scheduled, yet neither the princess nor the groom had appeared. Even the King and Queen were nowhere to be seen.

Aier suddenly said, "Lincoln, do you want to hold a grand wedding?" Seeing Lincoln simply turn to look at her without speaking, she added, "The kind of grand wedding that all four Supreme Planes and seven Divine Planes would know about."

Lincoln suddenly understood. He looked at Aier with eyes full of love, reached out to wrap his arm around her shoulder, and pulled her gently toward him so that her ear and cheek pressed against his, "Whatever you say. But now is not the time; let's wait a few more years, there will be a better opportunity then."

Aier smiled sweetly and replied, "Whatever you say!"

The auspicious hour was about to pass, and the couple still hadn't appeared. The crowd was already buzzing with discussion. Lincoln listened for a moment; the princess getting engaged today was the King's youngest daughter, cherished like the apple of his eye. The groom was said to be the disciple of an old-school Sword Saint, only twenty years old, but already an eighth-rank powerhouse—a true genius. However, this genius seemed unwilling to be the King's son-in-law and had been resisting the arrangement all along.

"He is a King, after all. What kind of son-in-law couldn't he get? Why force this melon?" Lincoln asked. "Besides, the young man himself is a disciple of a Saint-level expert. He could have made his own decisions regarding marriage; could it be that his Saint-level teacher is also backing the kingdom?"

Aier shook her head, "I'm only interested in business. I don't understand these noble marriages."

Finally, the princess could no longer hold back. Led by the hand by the Queen and dressed in a white gown, she walked slowly down from the second floor, sparking a wave of enthusiastic applause. The princess wore a white veil, but to Lincoln and the others, it was as if it weren't there. Her appearance was not exceptionally stunning, but she was youthful, moving, and possessed a pleasant temperament.

The princess looked slightly shy. The Queen said loudly, "Thank you all for coming to our Rouweier's engagement ceremony today. To show our appreciation, we have prepared some small gifts, but they must be earned through a challenge." As she spoke, the Queen clapped her hands, and maids brought up a row of lanterns. Each lantern had some text written on it, and a row of maids behind them held trays containing jewelry, swords, medicinal herbs, and more. "Those who wish to obtain these gifts can go to the corresponding lantern. Each lantern has a riddle written on it; the first person to guess the answer correctly will receive the corresponding gift."

"We hope everyone will participate enthusiastically so that Rouweier's blessings can be spread, rather than just remaining in our hands." The Queen smiled warmly, greeting the guests with enthusiasm.

Lincoln and Aier exchanged a smile; it was an old-fashioned but effective way to stall for time.

Before long, the riddles were solved one by one, and the gifts found their owners. Lincoln took another sip of wine and turned to look at the hall entrance. A young man was being escorted into the hall, his hands locked by an old man. The young man was dressed in fine but disheveled clothing, his hair was messy, and there was visible sweat on his face. He was still struggling as he entered, but he was unable to make a sound.

"It's him?" Lincoln looked at the young man with slight surprise. He exchanged a glance with Aier, recalling that half a year ago, when they were passing through the Magic Beast forest, they had accidentally encountered a seventh-rank Magic Beast. They were about to release a trace of divine might to scare it away, but this young man had appeared out of nowhere and killed the Magic Wolf after a difficult battle. At the time, to thank him for his help, Aier had given him some precious supplies.

Back then, this young man was only a seventh-rank warrior; now, he had already become an eighth-rank warrior.

The young man also noticed Lincoln and Aier and kept signaling to them. However, his battle qi was sealed, and his voice was also blocked by a wind-attribute divine power, so he could only shake his head and wave his arms about.

"To be dragged to an engagement like this, it's too unsightly. What is the royal family thinking?" Aier couldn't help but say.

"Do you want to help him?" Lincoln asked. The founding monarch of the Putuoluo Empire, Aofen Lido, was merely a wind-attribute Low-God, no different from a mortal in Lincoln's eyes. But Lincoln was also curious: why would a Deity-level expert go to such lengths to "matchmake" an eighth-rank warrior with his own descendant?