Charlot was slightly surprised.
Julian Arsilo, however, remained expressionless and said, “The specialty of our Arsilo family’s extraordinary weapons is their ability to integrate into the Blood Vortex.”
Charlot thought of the Blood Rose, lightly touching his left arm, and mused, It’s a perfect match for the Withered Rose.
Firearms held significant advantages in battles among ordinary people, but when it came to the transcendent level, they had an inescapable flaw. Even the lowest-tier swords and blades could unleash incredible power if the wielder’s rank was high enough. However, transcendent firearms were limited by their inherent level and could not fire bullets that exceeded that level.
Charlot had an Anti-Space Long-Range Rifle and two Firequell Silver Rhinos. Yet without Anti-Magic Armor-Piercing Rounds, he couldn’t penetrate a transcendent’s protective energy barrier. Even with those rounds, he had once faced a peerless transcendent who deflected them with a single strike of a Knight’s Lance.
To this day, Charlot couldn’t fathom how Hughes managed to deflect high-velocity Anti-Magic Armor-Piercing Rounds.
Hughes, wielding the black Knight’s Lance, was like an unyielding mountain. No matter how much Charlot improved or how many variations his swordsmanship took, Hughes was like a vast ocean—immeasurable and always able to suppress him. The hundreds of duels Charlot had with Hughes in the Dreamcrafting Realm remained his most vivid nightmares.
Still, after dueling with Hughes, Charlot had grown far less fearful of high-ranking transcendent opponents.
When he killed Zolman, a commander of the South Seraph restorationists with a transcendent rank of fifteen, he didn’t even find it particularly difficult.
Of course, Charlot had used a few tricks in that fight.
But combat, especially life-and-death struggles, was all about using every means at one’s disposal—anything that worked, right?
...
Julian noticed Charlot’s slight contemplation and assumed he was dissatisfied with the power of the Withered Rose. He said, “If you don’t like it, I can take the Withered Rose back to Byron and trade it for something equivalent in écus.”
Charlot smiled faintly. “No, I like this gun very much.”
“Have you ever heard a saying from the New Continent: ‘Giving a rose leaves fragrance on the hand’?”
Julian had never heard this Earthly adage before. He repeated the phrase in his mind for a moment and couldn’t help but chuckle. “That’s quite a poetic expression.”
“If you’re free, let’s dine together this afternoon and travel together in the evening.”
Charlot nodded in agreement. Julian didn’t leave but instead rang a small copper bell to summon someone. Before long, a servant wheeled in a dining cart. On it were Byron’s famous crispy pork knuckles, tender suckling pig, a variety of sausages, freshly baked bread, and a small keg of malt beer.
As he tied a napkin around his neck, Julian grumbled, “The scenery of the Ingrima Empire is pleasant, but their cuisine is atrocious. I don’t want to eat out—it’s just...”
Julian trailed off, unable to find the right word.
Charlot completed the thought for him. “Dark cuisine.”
Julian’s eyes lit up. “Exactly! That’s the perfect description. The Ingrima Empire is practically a gastronomic hell. We must be the gourmet connoisseurs of this infernal place.”
“Well, I won’t subject you to dining out. That would hardly be proper hospitality.”
The two shared a meal right there in Julian’s office.
Though they didn’t visit any renowned restaurants, Charlot found the food to be quite good. He was particularly impressed by the Byron malt beer, which he thought rivaled the best brews served in the top taverns of Silver Dove Castle. He even mused that when he returned to Strasbourg, he should invite Annie to try Byron cuisine.
After the meal, they switched to red tea and chatted through the afternoon. As the time for the ball approached, Julian even had someone prepare a new outfit for Charlot to avoid any faux pas at the event.
Charlot’s formal attire as a Fars Empire diplomat was indeed unsuitable for a ball.
When they left Old Flor’s shop, Julian was about to hail a public carriage, but Charlot smiled faintly and touched the ring on his hand. The Dark Luxury carriage, drawn by eight phantom spirit horses, emerged gracefully from the void.
“Let’s ride in my carriage,” Charlot said.
Julian climbed aboard with a pleased expression and remarked, “My brother has one of these as well. He once planned to gift it to me for my birthday, but I refused.”
Charlot couldn’t help feeling a pang of jealousy. “Why didn’t you want it?”
Julian answered matter-of-factly, “Who would accept a second-hand carriage as a birthday gift?”
Over a hundred years ago, the Saint Alchemist Stardust had crafted only thirteen Dark Luxury carriages. The ones that survived were now considered priceless antiques. But calling them second-hand carriages wasn’t entirely inaccurate either.
Charlot had only shown off the Dark Luxury in front of two people. Annie didn’t even notice anything special about the carriage, while Julian simply dismissed it as a second-hand vehicle...
Such is the mindset of the aristocratic elite.
What Baron Feller regarded as a family heirloom transcendent artifact was nothing more than an ordinary trinket in their eyes.
Charlot grew increasingly envious.
Dark Luxury was, after all, a high-tier transcendent artifact. The eight phantom spirit horses that pulled it required no driver. Last time, he had a redback bear warrior temporarily act as a coachman merely to avoid drawing undue attention.
But now, since they were heading to a ball hosted by the legendary Count Victory Champagne—Lamorak of the Ingrima Empire—being low-key would seem out of place. Thus, Charlot didn’t bother having a staff member from Old Flor’s shop act as a coachman.
...
The Dark Luxury carriage reached the Champagne Palace in just over ten minutes. The grand square in front of the palace was filled with opulent carriages, none costing less than five hundred gold écus. It wasn’t just Ingrima Empire nobles who gathered here; aristocrats from various countries were in attendance.
Charlot refrained from using the Eye of Insight in such a gathering of nobles. After all, among them were many transcendents, and employing Insight was tantamount to peering into their private matters—a grave offense. Relying solely on his naked eye, however, Charlot failed to locate High Priest Auguslatin.
Julian urged, “Let’s head inside.”
Charlot casually stored the Dark Luxury carriage in his ring, vacating the parking space for a newly arrived white carriage. A young lady inside the white carriage leaned out gracefully and thanked him with a nod.
She didn’t seem surprised by the magical feat of storing a carriage in a ring. She simply expressed her gratitude for Charlot’s courtesy.
...
In his previous life, Charlot had been an ordinary mathematics teacher. What could a teacher know about high society? At most, he could glimpse it through overly dramatized TV shows. Even then, such depictions rarely felt authentic.
In this life, he was born into a merchant family, not one of great wealth. Even changing carriages required careful calculation. He’d never seen a genuine aristocratic gathering like this.
Annie, ever modest and grounded, never flaunted her family background.
For Charlot, this was his first true exposure to such an occasion, and he found himself unexpectedly nervous.