Chapter 414: The Stray Dog from the Steppe (2)

Chapter 414 -281: The Stray Dog from the Steppe (2)

The minister looked Altan up and down a few times. Seeing Jianqi’s grasslands features, and recalling that the renowned Henry had recently conquered another Count’s territory, he immediately understood the situation.

The minister thought for a moment before speaking. “Ah, a friend just passing through. This camp was set up for the upcoming gathering of nobles from the Feikawen region. Many lords and Knights will be in attendance to discuss important matters.”

Altan’s heart stirred. ‘A gathering of nobles from the Feikawen region? This is an excellent opportunity.’

Perhaps he could use his title as a Count and his family lineage to attract some investment from the minor nobility. ‘Even a Wandering Count is still a high noble!’

He maintained a neutral expression and continued to ask, “Oh? What important matters could possibly require such a large-scale gathering?”

The steward smiled faintly, clearly not intending to reveal much. “It concerns the future development of Feikawen, so it isn’t convenient for outsiders to inquire further. However, since you are all passing through, you are welcome to stay for a while if you’re interested. You might even run into some acquaintances.”

Altan had already made up his mind. He nodded. “Thank you for the information. We are indeed somewhat interested. We might as well stay for a while and see what’s going on.”

The minister nodded, then turned and led Altan and his group into the camp. Altan’s gaze swept across the area.

Soon, the dense figures of countless nobles came into view. Regardless of the rank of their title or the power of their family, they all possessed a noble bearing that the aristocrats of the grasslands lacked.

They wore exquisite robes or ornate armor, their clothes embroidered with family crests. These crests glinted with golden light under the sun, as if silently proclaiming their status and glory.

The nobles’ movements were elegant and composed, their conversations revealing an innate confidence and sense of superiority.

They gathered in groups of two and three, some talking in low voices, others laughing heartily, filling the entire camp with a lively yet dignified atmosphere.

As Altan’s gaze swept over these nobles, he couldn’t help but sigh inwardly.

He noticed that although these nobles differed in appearance and dress, their temperaments were strikingly similar.

Their eyes revealed an obsession with power and status, as if every inch of land and every bit of wealth were intrinsically tied to them. This quality was completely different from the nobles of the grasslands.

The nobles of the grasslands, though they also possessed wealth and status, placed more importance on personal martial prowess and the glory of their armies.

Even the merchant nobles…

Their lives were more free and unrestrained, without so much elaborate etiquette and tangled interests.

But the nobles here seemed to have every action and every word meticulously calculated. They lived within a complex web of politics and economics, where their every move could affect the balance of the entire region.

Altan couldn’t help but think of his days on the grasslands. He didn’t have to be like the nobles here, constantly considering how to gain greater benefits in complex situations or how to maintain his position amidst the open and hidden struggles between aristocrats.

Of course, it might have also been because he was a Hereditary Count, and he could afford not to care about the feelings of minor nobles.

Now, however, having arrived in this strange land and facing these unfamiliar nobles, he had to learn to adapt to the rules of the game here.

He noticed some of the nobles in the camp sizing him up with curious yet wary eyes.

Clearly, they were unfamiliar with this grasslands-dweller who called himself a “Wandering Count,” especially one with such distinct grasslands features.

Even after several hundred years, the commoners in the heartland of the empire still looked down on people from other regions, and the nobility was no different.

Altan smiled faintly. He knew he needed to display sufficient strength here to win the recognition and respect of these nobles.

Just then, an elderly noble walked over. He wore a striking deep blue robe embroidered with gold patterns.

He had a friendly smile on his face as he extended a hand to Altan. “Welcome to Feikawen, Count Altan. I am Alvin, the Count of Feikawen. This is your first time here, isn’t it?”

Altan was slightly taken aback but quickly recovered. He reached out and shook Alvin’s hand, his tone tinged with humility. “Yes, I am Altan, a Wandering Count from the grasslands. I was passing through Feikawen and happened upon your gathering, so I thought I would take a look.”

Alvin nodded, a flash of appreciation in his eyes. “A Count from the grasslands, that sounds quite extraordinary. We rarely have nobles from the grasslands visit us. You must have brought many new stories with you.”

Alvin pulled Altan over to introduce him to his Vassals. The circumstances being what they were, Altan had no choice but to chat and laugh with these lesser nobles, telling them stories about the grasslands.

Alvin’s Vassals were mostly young Knights and minor nobles, all full of curiosity about the grasslands.

Alvin enthusiastically introduced Altan to the crowd. “Everyone, this is Count Altan from the grasslands. He just mentioned he is a Wandering Count, so he must have had many interesting experiences.”

Altan gave a slightly awkward smile. Although he felt a bit reluctant, he quickly adjusted his mindset.

‘These heartland nobles and Knights are full of longing for the vastness and freedom of the grasslands, and I can use this to my advantage to get closer to them.’

“Yes, life on the grasslands is indeed full of the unknown and its challenges.” Altan looked around, saw that everyone was listening intently, cleared his throat, and began to tell his story.

“On the grasslands, many herdsmen don’t have fixed castles or territories. They still maintain a tribal structure, always migrating with the seasons in search of lush water and grass.

Every migration is an adventure because the grasslands are full of dangers, such as wild beasts, storms, and competition from other tribes.”

He paused for a moment. Seeing the glint of curiosity in everyone’s eyes, he continued, “Once, a tribe near my fiefdom encountered a rare sandstorm during their migration.

The sky suddenly turned dark, the wind howled, and sand filled the air, reducing visibility to almost nothing. They had to find shelter immediately, or the entire tribe could have been buried by the sand.”

Hearing this, the young Knights let out gasps of amazement, and some of the minor nobles couldn’t help but whisper among themselves, discussing the dangers of the grasslands.

Altan smiled faintly and continued his tale. “Fortunately, their chieftain was very experienced. They found a relatively safe valley.

The tribe took shelter in that valley for three whole days until the sandstorm passed.

During those three days, they had to survive on limited food and water, with everyone remaining vigilant against any potential dangers.”

The young Knights were captivated and started asking Altan questions. “So how did they find water?”

“Did they run into any wild beasts?”

“Are there legendary treasures on the grasslands?”

Altan patiently answered their questions, all the while observing the reactions of these nobles and Knights.

He discovered that even though they came from different families, they were all filled with a longing for the mystery and adventure of the grasslands.

This made him sigh in relief. ‘Maybe I really can win their trust and goodwill through these stories.’

“There are indeed many legends on the grasslands. For instance, there’s a mysterious forest said to hide an ancient treasure, but no one has ever been able to find it.

And there’s the legendary Spirit of the Grasslands, which is said to help brave Warriors in their most critical moments,” Altan said, deliberately adding an air of mystery, which earned a round of laughter from the crowd.

Alvin stood to the side, smiling and nodding. He was clearly also pleased with Altan’s storytelling. These young nobles and Knights could never resist tales of adventure and legend, and Altan’s grassland background was perfect for fueling their imaginations.

‘The jester I hired hasn’t arrived yet. For now, I’ll let this stray dog, Altan, liven up the atmosphere.’