Chapter 175: Dreams of the Past

"Rayan, I'm going to show you just how ridiculously wrong you were, look how many bells—"

Before he could finish the word "bells," the Gale Boots under Rayan's feet suddenly activated. In the blink of an eye, he dashed to his adversary's side, delivering a Battle Qi-filled heavy punch directly to the brute's ribs, forcing him to bend over and expose the heavy braid at the back of his neck—

Rayan showed no mercy, grabbing the brute's hair braid and yanking it back hard, sending this massive figure—whose father was a human hero who had dominated a snow monster, whose mother was a snow monster dominated by a human hero, and who himself possessed a dual heritage of human and beast—flying backwards through the air.

The brute, entirely unprepared for such an easy defeat, screamed like a woman. "This isn't fair, I didn't even say start yet—you hit me!"

Rayan didn't respond, striking another punch that shattered the brute's Battle Qi defense, making it impossible for him to gather his own Battle Qi to resist. His internal organs ached as if being churned violently.

"Wait, let's, let's talk first..." the brute gasped, his voice altered in tone as he pleaded.

Rayan gave him no chance, dragging him by his long braid to Marquis Hart.

Marquis Hart's face still showed the red marks, and seeing what was happening, his legs uncontrollably trembled inside his trousers. "What, what do you want to do? He, he has nothing to do with me, we haven't even formed a bond of oath yet!"

Rayan ignored Hart's incessant babbling, reached out, and grabbed the dinner knife from Hart's table—he didn't want to soil his own Crow Sword over a wretch.

The brute instantly realized what was happening and began squealing like a pig, "No! Don't! Don't cut my hair! I beg you, you can make me do anything, just don't cut my hair, I use it to intimidate people—"

Rayan, expressionless, paid no heed to the brute's pleas, his hand tight on the brute's hair, the other scraping a dinner knife across his scalp.

The dinner knife, though called a "knife," was only a knife in shape, its edge serrated and not sharp at all. Using such a blunt object to cut hair was like using a rusty sickle to harvest immature wheat—prolonging the brute's agony, making his screams heart-wrenching, unable to resist at all.

By then, he deeply regretted ever encountering Rayan, let alone provoking him.

But it was too late for regrets. His scalp was scarred with ugly cuts, and minutes later, his braid was finally severed. The brute wailed as if his penis had been cut off.

"See, it's become nothing."

Rayan threw the bell-laden braid directly into the furnace, and coldly told the incessantly crying brute, "Scram, and don't let me see you again."

The brute cast a resentful glance at Rayan, too ashamed to stay any longer, and fled the banquet hall amid the guests' jeers and laughter.

Rayan turned to face Marquis Hart, who was flushed with wine, and twirled the dinner knife into an elegant sword flower.

Marquis Hart trembled and said, "Lord Rayan, today is the birthday banquet of the Phoenix Lady, and I, I am her dear nephew, you can't rough me up..."

He was utterly frightened, even daring to invoke his aunt's name in public to save himself.

Rayan scornfully glanced at him, "Next time, find a more entertaining dog."

After saying that, he gently stuck the dinner knife into the dining table and walked back to his own seat.

Marquis Hart collapsed onto the high chair back, finally taking a long breath. He glared hatefully at Rayan's departing figure, seeing Lady Spring Rain smiling at Rayan, his feelings of jealousy and humiliation intensified.

"Rayan... we'll see about that..."

He muttered under his breath, trying several times to pull the knife stuck before him, but it remained as firm as a rock, his face instantly turning a guilty pale.

The gap was like an insurmountable chasm...

Rayan returned to his seat, and before he could even speak with Lady Spring Rain, several Gold-edged nobles crowded around, eagerly pouring wine into his cup.

"Lord Rayan, please honor us."

A corpulent Gold-edged noble, leveraging his size, grabbed Rayan's wine cup, held it up high, and said with a sycophantic smile, "I am the patriarch of the Falling Flower family, dealing in spices. If my lord has any need in this regard, just speak—"

Rayan's delicate brows furrowed slightly; he had no interest in these fair-weather, insincere nobles. He was eager to discuss with Lady Spring Rain about participating in the tournament, but just as he was about to wave these people away, he caught a meaningful wink from Lady Spring Rain, signaling him not to stiffen the atmosphere too much.

He understood the principle—playing the role of a nobleman meant adhering to social etiquette, which could otherwise provoke dissatisfaction among all the nobles and invite unnecessary scrutiny into his true identity, bringing about trouble.

Lady Spring Rain was his strongest supplement in matters of social etiquette and manners. If anyone else had advised him, he might not have listened, but Lady Spring Rain was different. He knew that her intentions were purely in his best interest, devoid of any ulterior motives.

Thus, Rayan, with a cold expression, took the trembling noble's wine cup from his hands and, in front of everyone, drank it in one gulp.

The noble immediately beamed with joy and feigned a few more exchanges with Rayan, then contentedly returned to his own seat. Other nobles followed suit, eagerly offering toasts to Rayan and introducing themselves.

Rayan did not refuse any of them, downing every noble's wine in one swallow. His tolerance for alcohol had been well-trained at the Ravenstorm Inn; how could the wine here compare to the potency of the Duke's brew? Thus, after downing dozens of glasses, his complexion remained unchanged, and his mind clear of any intoxication.

Those flattering nobles all gave thumbs up, endlessly praising Rayan's drinking capacity and strength.

Rayan knew their words were mere formalities and didn't take them to heart. His stern face merely showed a token, faint smile.

Meanwhile, some other nobles seated around felt restless, not wanting to miss the chance to bond with Rayan, yet constrained by the presence of the Firebird family, they hesitated, uncomfortably shifting in their seats.

At that moment, the patriarch of the Redwood family, seated near the head of the table, stood up, holding his wine cup and walked directly to Rayan—

Despite the Redwood family's decline over the past decades, the noble patriarch's aura was still present. Even the Firebird family had to place the Redwood patriarch near the principal seat when arranging the banquet seating. Thus, when the queue of nobles saw it was the Redwood patriarch, they automatically made way for him.

"The hero is indeed a young man, Lord Rayan," the Redwood patriarch raised his wine cup to Rayan.

Rayan looked at the Redwood patriarch without any expression, carefully observing his features. The night before, he had only overheard the conversation between the Redwood patriarch and Eileen from outside a window at the Redwood's residence, without actually seeing this figure who had once made a mark in Stonerock Kingdom. Now, he finally had the chance for a face-to-face interaction.

The Redwood patriarch's face, full of wrinkles, carried a warm smile. There was neither arrogance nor the sycophantic behavior typical of lesser nobles. His etiquette was impeccably measured. His hair was completely white, each strand meticulously combed back, his eyebrows sharply defined, his nose high and firm, and his piercing eyes slightly tinged with fatigue—evidently, the loss of the Holy Light artifact the previous night had been worrisome.

Rayan, in no hurry, stood and nodded politely in response to the Redwood patriarch, "Thank you for your high regard, Lord Redwood."

This was in keeping with noble social etiquette, giving enough respect to the Redwood patriarch. The patriarch nodded approvingly, "Lord Rayan, you are too modest. If you don't mind, I would like to make your acquaintance. Perhaps you are not aware, but my grandson is the direct descendant of the Lion King and the late queen, the first in line to the throne of Stonerock Kingdom. The crown prince, though physically challenged, is of good character, extremely intelligent. I would like to introduce you to him sometime, for the young must come together, as the future belongs to you."

While this was ostensibly addressed to Rayan, it also served as a reminder to all present nobles not to forget that the Lion King had not transferred the position of heir apparent to the Phoenix Lady's Second Prince. Should the crown prince ascend to power, then the Redwood family might rise again, and the first to suffer would be those nobles gathered around the Firebird family.

The nobles in the banquet hall were seasoned players in the game of power; they could not miss the implications. As soon as the Redwood patriarch finished speaking, several undecided Gold-edged nobles stood up, joining the queue to toast Rayan.

"I might as well join in the fun."

Positioned among the Gold-edged nobles, Lady Eileen of the Holy Light, in tune with her father, stood up and walked to Rayan, smiling, "Lord Rayan, that move you just pulled with the wine cup, even I, a seasoned Grand Magus of the Holy Light Sisterhood, have learned something new. Such a hero, not being part of our Wings of Dawn, is truly a loss for the Holy Light."

Rayan's heart thumped momentarily, but he quickly calmed down. Joining the "Wings of Dawn" guild had always been a dream for any Fighter, but the current Rayan was no longer the naive child of before. He had begun to think like Duke, no longer holding Wings of Dawn as his dream. In his heart, a vague idea was forming—if he were to join a guild in the future, it would surely be one he established himself, whether it be under the Holy Light or the shadow lands, nothing could sway his decision.

He smiled slightly at Redwood patriarch and Lady Eileen, not saying much, and drained his cup of red wine. Redwood patriarch and Lady Eileen also immediately downed their drinks, and at that moment, almost all the nobles in the banquet hall surged forward, competing to toast Rayan—

The dreams of the past had faded, a new glory was emerging...