Published: August 15, 2025
It was a huge barrel.
A barrel about half his height, filled to the brim with red wine.
Just moments ago, marquis Dario had said he was going to make coffee, but instead, he appeared carrying the opened wine barrel and stumbled right in front of Lord Cyrus.
The barrel soared high into the air, and of course, the wine inside splashed everywhere. What an unfortunate accident! The red liquid danced above Cyrus Granado’s head!
...Wait, how is that even possible!?
Even if I hurried to run over, it wouldn’t be in time. But Lord Cyrus was not about to be defeated.
“Whoaaa!”
With a roar, he kicked the tea table, striking the barrel mid-air to intercept it. It seemed the table was just slightly heavier than the barrel filled with wine; the barrel lost the collision and bounced back, reversing its trajectory — flying back toward the one who had thrown it.
“Gyaaah!”
The marquis screamed, drenched from head to toe in red wine.
Ah, no no no… the marquis’s lavish, splendid noble robes were soaked through with wine. The once pure white frills and the voluminous drapes were now irreparably stained.
Standing dumbfounded in the middle of a red puddle, marquis Dario stared blankly, while Lord Cyrus wiped the sweat from his brow with a weary sigh.
“That was close. Good thing, good thing. I almost got doused in wine myself.”
“That’s not good! I am covered! From the top of my head to my toes, I’m completely soaked and red all over!”
“I’m fine. Though, some splashed onto my clothes. But since they’re black, it’s not a big deal.”
While the marquis fussed and yelled, Lord Cyrus remained completely unfazed. Instead, Lord Ruifeng quietly came over.
With a gentle smile, he knelt beside the marquis and offered a pure white handkerchief.
“That was unfortunate, Lord Dario. Here, wipe your face with this.”
“Ah... thank you. But this isn’t a disaster that a single handkerchief can fix...”
“Don’t worry about replacing the handkerchief. Compared to this cloak, it’s just a tiny expense.”
Saying that, he flicked his cloak with a few drops of red stains on it. Then, counting on his fingers, he began reciting some numbers.
“Well, this cloak was made to commemorate my fifth year as knight commander. The material is a blend of Flaria’s silk floss and Ipssilk, ordered directly from Dilz’s artisans. Everything was handwoven and hand-stitched, taking a whole year to complete. So naturally, the price is quite high, about around this much...”
The marquis collapsed face-first into the puddle of wine.
Ah, not only his clothes but even his hair... well, he brought this on himself...
“If the smell of alcohol reaches Lisa, that won’t be good. Let’s head inside.”
Lord Cyrus’s suggestion was a relief. Honestly, even without holding Lisa, the stench of alcohol was unbearable. Supported by his arm, I left the scene. Glancing back as I walked away, I saw Lord Ruifeng looking very amused as he stuck a note labeled “Invoice” onto the marquis’s wine-soaked forehead. Marquis Dario no longer resisted and just squatted there, muttering something under his breath.
“...Tch... this won’t be so easily resolved... In that case, plan b it is...”
Plan?
I thought I heard a sinister word.