"Honorary Lord?"
When Romon entered the banquet hall, quite a few people were already inside. The moment the call for an attendant ended, his arrival plunged the hall into brief silence.
In unison, nearly everyone in the hall turned their eyes toward him.
Everyone present knew who the true protagonist of today's banquet was. Romon's previous low-key manner had left these nobles largely bewildered. Before attending this banquet, most of them had not even known that a young Eleventh Level Druid had appeared in the kingdom.
There were the curious, the astonished, those merely watching the spectacle, and even more with ulterior motives. For a moment, every gaze in the hall converged on Romon. If eyes could pierce flesh, he would already have been riddled with holes.
Romon did not know that although the title of Honorary Lord was lowly, carried no Feudal Benefice, and could not be inherited, everyone who possessed it was among society's most outstanding figures.
Its influence could not be measured by the rank of one's title.
"Hello, my name is Schott. I am a Count. May I have the honor of speaking with you?" Not long after Romon entered the banquet hall, a middle-aged man walked over and invited him to chat somewhere private.
Romon had been feeling rather stifled, as he did not know a single person here. Seeing someone speak to him, he nodded. "My name is Romon. I would be honored to accept your invitation."
"Please."
The two went to a nearby resting area and sat down. Drinks and fruit had been set out on the table beside them. Eating now would have seemed somewhat inelegant, but no one minded drinking. Thus, they each took a drink and chatted as they sipped.
"Lord Romon, the moment I heard the tales about you,