The Duke was exactly what you'd imagine a middle-aged noble to be like, his waistline was three times that of an average man his age. His neck? You'd have to dig through layers of fat just to find it.
Judging by the curve that links obesity to wealth, the Duke was undoubtedly extremely rich.
Only a life with no labor, spent lying around and being served, could produce such a bloated body. God knows how his short, stubby legs managed to support such an excessive weight.
It almost made one worry, if one day his upper body collapsed, what kind of disaster would that be?
These were all Hastur's first impressions upon seeing the Duke.
Setting out from his castle, he reached the city center, then boarded a steam train, transferring twice before finally arriving at the duke's villa on the day of the banquet.
Calling it a villa was an understatement, it was more like a connected complex of buildings, grand and magnificent, glittering with gold, exuding wealth and power from every corner.
At first, Hastur's arrival didn't attract much attention. After all, based on the same "obesity equals status" curve, Hastur clearly fell into the category of poverty and decline.
It wasn't until the Duke publicly ordered people to find him that Hastur became the center of attention.
Gasps were inevitable, after all, it was impossible for someone so young to be an earl in Southville County.
Hastur offered a few polite congratulations, then was invited by the Duke to join him, along with a royal family member who had also come from Backlund.
Only after introductions did Hastur learn that this person had been sent by the former Duke to monitor him.
Yes, the man said it himself, arrogantly, without any attempt to hide it, while the current Duke stood by with a cheerful smile.
The intention behind such an arrangement was obvious, and entirely expected.
What puzzled Hastur was this: with such blatant targeting, wasn't he afraid he might never make it back to Backlund?
As the Duke subtly hinted in his words, this place was far from Backlund and operated under its own set of rules.
Hastur agreed with that sentiment, Southville County was indeed better suited to a different set of rules. So he quietly added the royal member, who began spouting opinions after a few drinks and some flattery, to his blacklist.
After a brief scolding from the royal and some subtle encouragement from the Duke, Hastur finally gained a bit of freedom.
Out of habit, he sampled the local desserts… and would absolutely not take a second bite. Far too sweet.
Holding a glass of wine, he stood slightly away from the crowd, observing the Duke's trusted aides and matching their appearances with the information Caius had given him.
That one was a mayor of some city, that one in charge of a port, and another managed a certain region.
It had to be said, the Duke had immense influence. For his son's twentieth birthday, he had invited about two-thirds of the important nobles in Southville County.
At moments like this, it was fitting to quote Roselle: "I watch him build lofty mansions, I watch him host grand feasts, I watch as his towers collapse."
After the banquet ended, the Duke sent someone to invite Hastur to a second round, but Hastur declined outright, citing low alcohol tolerance.
He was then escorted to a room prepared specifically for him.
The room was large, lavishly decorated, filled with all kinds of valuable collectibles, displayed without any concern for theft or damage.
What caught Hastur's attention most was a blood-red sphere placed at the top of the bookshelf, about the size of a globe. Another identical sphere hung among the decorations near the chandelier.
Curious, Hastur took his time searching the room and found three more in secluded corners, five blood-red spheres in total.
Upon closer inspection, they looked like they were carved from red coral, but the color was unnaturally vivid. They also emitted a strange fragrance, not the smell of blood, but something oddly pleasant.
"Ariella, stay on guard tonight."
Hastur assigned Ariella guard duty, then lay down on the bed. Half an hour later, the door quietly opened.
Two young girls entered. They looked similar, likely around seventeen or eighteen. Barefoot, with loosely draped hair, lightly dressed in simple nightgowns, one red, the other also red.
Their eyes were like deer deep in the forest, pure, innocent, and delicate.
"Meow!" Ariella leapt down from the bookshelf onto the desk, glaring at the two girls approaching.
"Ah… it's a cat."
"So cute, all round and fluffy."
The girls were startled at first but were quickly charmed by Ariella's appearance.
"Who goes there?"
Naturally, Hastur wouldn't sleep deeply in such an environment. Using Ariella's meow as an excuse, he woke up.
At the sight of Hastur, the girls' initial reluctance quickly turned into shy embarrassment. Lowering their heads, they explained their purpose, occasionally sneaking glances at him in his nightwear.
They had been arranged by the Duke. On the surface, they were meant to serve him while he was drunk, but secretly, they were instructed to seduce him.
From their simple explanation, Hastur immediately understood the duke's intentions.
He was trying to find Hastur's weakness, corroding him from within.
Hastur waved them away, saying he didn't need their service.
The two girls suddenly dropped to their knees, catching Hastur completely off guard.
"Honored sir, if we leave this room tonight, we'll be sold to the Southern Continent, and our families will suffer as well. We beg you, please don't drive us out, at least let us stay until tomorrow."
Their eyes reddened as tears streamed down.
After questioning them, Hastur learned that the Duke regularly sought out suitable young girls, especially those who were beautiful and well-shaped, and categorized them like commodities based on rarity.
There were roughly four grades: Red Rose, Purple Lilac, Pink Camellia, and White Narcissus.
Normally, the duke didn't require them to do anything. He even supported their families, allowing them to live comfortably without labor.
His exact words were: "Rough, withered girls are like dying flowers, who would place such flowers by their bedside? Only with careful nurturing can they bloom into their most captivating beauty."
When needed, he would assign girls of different grades depending on the importance of the guest.
These two had been selected at fourteen, raised for four years, and only now were sent to serve someone.
Originally, their looks and figures would only qualify them as second-tier Pink Camellias. But because they were sisters with similar appearances, they were promoted to the highest rank, White Narcissus.
"…" Hastur fell silent for a long moment. Only now did he truly glimpse the extent of the Duke's power.
Since ancient times, bribery came in many forms, favors, alcohol, beauty, wealth, desire.
By cultivating a reserve of girls for bribery and manipulation, the Duke's influence and interests had clearly spread across every corner of Southville County.
A "local snake", that term was practically made for someone like him.
It was easy to imagine how many families had been destroyed by a mere whim of his. Hastur didn't believe for a second that someone like the Duke would show mercy to those who disobeyed.
The nobles of Backlund might indulge in luxury, but they would never display such practices openly. In fact, they would publicly condemn them.
Even King George III, who used slaves to secretly build his mausoleum, did so through someone else to take all the blame for slave trading.
"You can make a bed on the floor."
Hastur took a set of bedding and placed it on the ground, indicating they could rest there.
The two girls were startled, tears welling in their eyes, but they didn't dare refuse. They quietly spread the bedding and lay down on their sides, subtly displaying their beauty and graceful figures.
Unfortunately, Hastur, lying on the bed, couldn't see any of it.
Time passed slowly. The fragrance in the room grew stronger, more and more pleasant.
"Hmm…"
Feeling a slight heat in his body, Hastur realized something was off about the scent. He had encountered similar substances through Glaint before, though he had never studied them himself, leaving Glaint to indulge alone.
Clearly, the Duke had set multiple traps waiting for him.
One night of indulgence, and he would truly have a weakness in the duke's hands.
Hastur got out of bed, gathered the five blood-red spheres, the increasingly strong fragrance was emanating from them.
He placed them by the window, opened it, and let the wind carry the scent out.
Gradually, the fragrance dissipated.
"Meow?" Ariella widened her eyes curiously. Hastur picked her up, covered her eyes, then glanced back, clicked his tongue, and used another set of sheets to cover the girls.
"Did you notice anything unusual?" Hastur took out a mirror from his coat and placed it on another table.
Sharron's figure appeared in the mirror.
"Have you ever heard of an organization called the Celestial Sect?"