Hearing that, Myle, Anis, and Taragon stared at each other. They all looked like they couldn’t believe their ears. They wondered if maybe Keter had misspoken, but there was no way. Garcia, Luban, Bydent—none of them sounded remotely like Sefira. Seeing their bewildered faces, Keter chuckled and repeated himself. “Since we won the tournament, it’s only right that we, Sefira, should be the ones to host the social ball, don’t you think?” Their reactions were anything but enthusiastic. It was understandable, as Sefira had never once hosted such an event in its long history. Keter, who didn’t know that, could still tell just by observing: Sefira and parties didn’t go together. “Keter, this time I think you’re really mistaken. A noble’s social ball isn’t something you just decide to throw on a whim,” Anis said. “A noble’s social ball is a battlefield, where money and diplomacy are the weapons. The hosts, as well as the guests, all come to show off their wealth and power, while hiding swords behind their smiles to decipher each other’s intent. Say the wrong thing once, and you could end up branded a heretic or traitor among the nobility.” Myle nodded and added, “If we host it poorly and attendance is low, the financial loss is nothing compared to the blow to our reputation. But even a full house is dangerous; if anything is even slightly off, we’ll be buried socially with no chance of recovery.” Even Taragon, who would even follow Keter into boiling water, chimed in this time. “The ball is next month, Keter. Just one month away. Other families have probably been preparing for six months at least. Even if the Bydent family was rushed, they’ve hosted plenty before. But us? Sefira? We’ve never done it. It might just be too difficult.” “Keter, are we underestimating you again? Are you secretly an expert in hosting balls too?” Anis asked cautiously, realizing that nothing was impossible for Keter. However, Keter shook his head. “It’ll be my first social ball. Slaughter parties, sure, but not this kind.” “...Slaughter parties?” “The point is, it doesn’t matter if I’ve never hosted a ball.” “How can you host a ball without having experience hosting one…?” “If you don’t know how to do something, just hire someone who does.” “So you're saying you know someone who can help?” “Wait, even so, we only have about three weeks if we count the time needed to send invitations. Not only that, where will we get the supplies for the ball and the staff?” “Remember this: if something seems impossible, it usually just means you don’t have enough power or money.” He pulled out a glass plate. It was an Archacic Board, a communication device used by mages. While preparing for the tournament, Keter had already been planning for the social ball. If the Sword of the South Tournament was Sefira’s leap forward; the ball would be their safe landing. No matter how far one leaped, the landing was what mattered; if one crashed, no one would consider them a good jumper. Only after a successful social ball would the nobles realize Sefira had truly leaped. Everything Keter did during this tournament, including building Ultima’s merchant company, was for this day. I don’t need to know how to do everything myself. With power and money, nothing was truly impossible. Keter input a code into the Archacic Board. It was one belonging to the person he believed was the most knowledgeable about balls among all the nobles he had met during the tournament. The board glowed blue and vibrated, signaling a connection attempt. The brothers didn’t know who Keter was calling, but they all had a similar thought. Is Keter actually going to pull this off again? Is there anything this guy can’t do? The connection went through. A young man’s voice echoed from the glass. —Calling me as soon as you get my code? You're a bold woman. I like that. —Ugh. You? That kills the mood. What is it? What do you want? “Sefira is going to host a social ball, and as you know, we don’t know anything about that. I’m calling to ask if you could connect me to an expert.” —What? A ball? An expert? Hahaha! Don’t be ridiculous! Why would you ask for an introduction when I, the embodiment of parties, am right here!? The brothers were confused as they listened to the conversation. Who is this man calling himself the “embodiment of parties?” It was difficult to guess the person just from his bright, carefree tone. “So, will you come help us yourself, Veiga?” The three brothers recognized the name Keter mentioned. “Wait, he said Veiga, didn’t he? I’m not mistaken, right?” There was only one noble in the kingdom named Veiga: the third son of the Mejai family, the Masters of Swordsmanship in the east. Like Keter, he was also known as a lunatic, though he was better known as a party maniac. “I heard he throws twelve balls a year.” “I heard everyone in the noble society wants to get invited to his parties.” “Sir Veiga deserves to be called the embodiment of parties.” Even the Sefira brothers, not well-versed in politics or society, knew him. In the realm of balls and parties, there was no one more qualified than Veiga. They couldn’t understand how Keter was speaking to Veiga like they were friends. How does Keter even know him? There was no way the Sefira brothers could know, as they were entirely focused on preparing for the tournament. They only thought Keter was slacking off and didn’t really know what he was doing outside of their training grounds. It was all for this moment. Keter’s leisure time wasn’t actually leisure time. I’m getting goosebumps. Of course, that was a major misunderstanding on their part—the illusion that Keter had been diligently running around all day. In truth, Keter rarely did anything, thinking that it was work. He only ever did what he wanted to do. That was how he met Veiga as well—during the casual interviews he held with nobles before meeting Kai. That brief encounter had been their first and only meeting, lasting less than ten minutes. This call was their first time communicating ever since. And yet, Keter asked Veiga for help so easily and naturally, as if he were asking an old friend. And Veiga’s response was just as direct and effortless as Keter’s. —So, what will you give me for it? Naturally, Keter didn’t hesitate. “I’ll attend one of your parties.” Anyone in noble society would have been stunned. Hundreds of nobles begged for an invite to Veiga’s parties. Even the reserved high lords hoped to attend, though securing a spot was incredibly difficult. For Keter to say he would grace Veiga’s party with his appearance was extremely arrogant. …Veiga was happy with this outcome. It was because he had actually invited Keter to his party when they first met. However, Keter had refused outright, saying it sounded bothersome. Veiga was dumbfounded. Even royals begged for an invite, yet Keter, who was only starting to make a name for himself, had refused simply because it sounded bothersome. At first, he thought Keter was just speaking out of ignorance, so he explained what it meant to attend one of his parties. But even now, Veiga couldn’t forget Keter’s expression and reaction after hearing the explanation. How could he possibly forget Keter letting out a huge yawn, as if he was listening to the most boring thing in the world? This guy’s got guts. I like him. Veiga liked Keter ever since, and he was determined to get Keter to come to one of his parties. That was why Veiga had now accepted Keter’s offer to attend the party. —But listen. I'm good, but I can’t build a party venue out of thin air. Does Sefira even have money? I thought you were broke. “Forget the money. We’ve got less than a month. Think you can pull it off? Even you might struggle with this one.” Keter was baiting him, and Veiga took the bait. —Tsk. I could do it in a week if I had the funds. But it’ll cost a fortune. Don’t expect me to pay. “I’ll introduce you to a sponsor. They’ll give you everything—money, manpower, whatever you need.” —You serious? Might cost millions. —Then get me in touch. Once I hear from them, I’m heading straight to Sefira. Man, a noble family that’s never thrown a party? This’ll be fun. As soon as the call ended, Taragon looked worried. “Keter… even if Father’s okay with us hosting a party, he’d never approve spending millions.” To Myle, Anis, and Taragon, one million gold was an astronomical sum. And now they were talking about spending several million? Spending that much on a single party was something no patriarch could realistically afford. The three naturally assumed the sponsor Keter mentioned was their father and voiced their concerns accordingly. However… “Why would I touch Father's savings? The sponsor I mentioned isn’t him.” “You all know him,” Keter said, grinning. “It’s Ultima, my wallet.” After contacting Ultima, explaining the situation, and putting him in touch with Veiga, Keter flopped onto the sofa. “Phew! Another problem solved. And a new task added.” He began counting with his fingers, mentally organizing his schedule. “Aegis is in the east, right? I can drop by while I’m already headed to Veiga’s party.” The reason for visiting the Aegis family was simple: they had served as Keter’s sponsor, a requirement for his independent participation in the tournament. Although the idea of attending Veiga’s party and visiting Aegis felt like work and was slightly annoying to Keter, he didn’t entirely dislike it. “I should be able to find some leads on the Titans at Aegis, and Veiga’s party will definitely be fun.” And if it wasn’t fun? Well, Keter already had some dangerous ideas for how to make it fun. Just then, a face suddenly leaned over him. It was Katherine. “I was trying to surprise you, but you’re not even startled.” “You would need to bring back the ghost of a legendary assassin’s grandfather if you want to scare me.” “Just wait, I’ll manage it one day! Oh, Decameron woke up.” “He was already awake.” “Well, now he’s really conscious. First thing he did was ask for you.” “Then you should’ve brought him.” “He said he doesn’t follow my orders.” “Then why didn’t you try asking?” Katherine blinked like it had never occurred to her. “He’s a rare find. Guess I’ll have to go see him myself.” He was worth six million gold, after all. Naturally, Keter had no intention of letting Decameron sit idle. Gotta get my money’s worth—at least six million gold worth. When Keter arrived, Decameron was seated like a doll in a chair. At Keter’s entrance, he simply turned his head. “There’s something I must report.” “You’re not the type that gets weaker when you gain allies, are you? If so, I’m getting a refund.” “I do not understand your meaning. My combat capabilities remain intact. However, in the process of restoring my damaged magic core fusion reactor, an unavoidable loss occurred. I came to inform you of it.” “Let’s just call it the core. So what did you lose from it?” ᴛʜɪs ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ɪs ᴜᴘᴅᴀᴛᴇ ʙʏ 𝕟𝕠𝕧𝕖𝕝•𝖿𝗂𝗋𝖾•𝘯𝘦𝘵 “My memory unit was damaged. As a result, aside from my foundational and essential memories, I’ve lost everything else. However, I’ve managed to partially restore it and recover three memory slots.” Keter frowned. He dabbled in many fields with broad, shallow knowledge, but Homunculi were outside his wheelhouse. He couldn’t quite follow. “I don’t get what you’re saying. Summarize it.” At Keter’s request, Decameron held up three fingers and said, “Now, I can remember exactly three things.”