Crooked Winds and Evil Vapors

Dole slowly sat down across from the middle-aged man, looked at him, and said, "I am the lord of Albis City. I've come today to have my status certified."

Though the other party belonged to a rival faction, Dole had considered being polite. After all, the man was certain to make things difficult for him, but the proper courtesies still had to be observed.

He was seeking certification as a marquis himself. Both his official rank and noble title were higher than the other man's, so there was not much politeness in his tone.

The middle-aged man looked at Dole. At first glance, he thought the fellow looked remarkably young, just as the rumors said. On the second glance, though, there seemed to be some kind of magic in Dole's eyes as he stared at him.

A level-six Wizard.

Without thinking, he touched the pendant hanging around his neck. It had been bestowed by the Empire specifically to prevent Wizards from hypnotizing people like them.

The pendant showed no reaction. The other party had not used any means against him.

After thinking it over, he used the words he had prepared in advance. "The Empire recognizes the establishment of Albis City, but it has not officially appointed a lord for Albis City. Therefore, you still need the Emperor's personal writ."

Dole frowned. Sure enough, they were trying to stir up trouble.

He had conquered Albis City himself. Why should he need some personal writ? What a joke.

Dole looked at the man and said slowly, "I recall that Article Thirty-Two of Imperial law contains a certain line. Could you recite it for me?"

The middle-aged man froze, then was about to fly into a rage. Why should he recite it for him?

But when he saw Dole's gaze, he merely