Chapter 118
Ariella lifted her chin and smiled calmly at the crowd.
The same judging whispers that had weighed on her now turned toward Ludwig.
“Oh my, he’s actually quite handsome.”
“Sis, get a grip. They say he’s from some backwater village in the far South!”
“I wonder what power that Demon King has. Even if it’s the wilderness, he must have something special to have become a ruler.”
“Hmph. Whatever it is, it’s nothing compared to our Demon King.”
Behind Ariella and Ludwig walked the merchants in formal clothes, followed by the orc youths.
The orcs looked stiff with nerves, but strangely, the northern nobles showed little reaction to them.
What truly shook their expressions was the last figure to appear.
“No way… a dragon?!”
“Golden scales… a Gold Dragon? I’d heard rumors, but why is it with demons?”
“Could it be tamed?”
“Don’t be ridiculous. Demons taming a dragon? More likely, some secret pact was made.”
Pi marched in proudly, convinced he looked majestic.
He walked like the star of the ball itself.
And at that moment, it wasn’t far from the truth.
“A Demon King’s land where demons and dragons live together…”
“We’d better not underestimate them. We thought the frontier was laughable, but maybe there’s more to it.”
“A dragon, ships that crossed the sea… just what is this Demon King Ludwig?”
The northern nobles’ murmurs faded.
Because the one seated on the throne had spoken.
“Welcome, Demon King Ludwig. And… Ariella Kapell Oinos.”
It was the first time Ariella had heard her full name spoken in the Demon Realm.
Demon King Schwarz rose from his seat.
His voice was gentle, yet strong enough to fill the hall.
“The moment you set foot on our land, frozen history began to move again. From the South, a ship has conquered the icy sea that none had ever crossed since ancient times.”
Quite a change from what he’d said yesterday—when he warned that this meeting might mean nothing more than a passing event.
“Welcoming honored guests is a great joy for our realm. May this night remain warm and pleasant in your memories, like the fire that melted the sea’s ice.”
His tone and gaze were far kinder than before, which Ariella found annoying.
But she only smiled brightly in return.
“…”
When silence stretched, she even nudged Ludwig in the side.
“Ah—thank you… for your welcome.”
The unfamiliar formal speech twisted Ludwig’s tongue, but he had no choice.
“Please, enjoy yourselves.”
Schwarz turned toward his retainers.
“Listen well. These guests have brought with them a chance for us to taste the South’s finest product.”
Doors opened, and attendants pushed in trays.
On them sat rows of bottles with labels painted with golden dragons.
“A new kind of liquor, made by giving fire to wine. Strong in breath, yet with deep and delicate fragrance.”
Those who knew Schwarz’s nature realized this was nearly the highest praise he ever gave.
The demons’ eyes gleamed with curiosity.
“This is a rare chance to savor the South’s flavor. Do not hold back—taste it, and share in the joy of this night.”
It was the signal for the banquet to truly begin.
As Schwarz finished his opening speech, his gaze briefly met Ariella’s.
From that look, she sensed a faint, sly smile.
‘Suspicious.’
Of course, behavior in a private meeting and an official ball could differ.
But his words just now had been too favorable toward Ludwig’s domain.
‘Why act so generous all of a sudden? Just this morning…’
Only half a day earlier, Ariella had received an unexpected message from Schwarz.
He offered to buy one hundred bottles of their southern brandy, Drunken Dragon, at her asking price.
‘Not much compared to our full cargo, but… if it’s served at the official banquet, that changes everything.’
It was a golden opportunity.
‘This way, all the northern nobles get introduced to the product naturally!’
Why Schwarz had changed so quickly overnight, she didn’t know.
But she was satisfied.
“Drunken Dragon…”
One demon muttered.
The golden dragon on the label reminded them of the hatchling they had just seen.
Soon, nobles gathered around the brandy.
They set aside their wine and poured the new drink.
Gulp!
“Ooh! The flavor spreads in layers across the mouth.”
An explosion of delighted reactions followed.
“What is this lingering aftertaste?”
“The aroma is as deep and graceful as wine, but the strength hits you all at once. Power and elegance together.”
“This is something I’d love to keep in my own cellar.”
“I thought strong liquor was nothing but cheap swill. But this… I’d proudly serve it to guests.”
The northern demons were captivated.
At first, they had looked down on southern goods. But after a single glass, the atmosphere shifted.
Praise poured forth. Some immediately turned to the southern merchants, asking about price.
The merchants—sailors turned traders again—answered as Ariella had instructed, short and polite.
“Supply terms are still being discussed with the Demon King’s castle.”
Some nobles even insisted they would buy privately if the talks failed.
Watching, Ariella smiled to herself.
‘The rumors will spread in no time. No fear of leftover stock now.’
But not everyone was pleased.
In the corner of the hall, a demon glared at the scene.
“Brandy…?”
His name was Belzerion.
He owned the largest vineyards in Schwarz’s realm, and most of the wine in circulation passed through his hands.
Unlike the others, Belzerion stared at his glass with distaste.
“It burns the tongue with harsh strength. And they call this a fine liquor?”
But the other demons seemed to like that very quality.
Belzerion knew full well—his people were heavy drinkers, and demand for strong spirits was always there.
He just didn’t want to admit it.
“There was no need to introduce it at this banquet… The Demon King, what a foolish move.”
His sharp eyes turned on Schwarz.
And then, in the same view, he saw the cause of it all—Ludwig and Ariella.
Schwarz was stepping down from his seat, moving toward them.
Others too began watching as he crossed the floor with calm, noble steps.
He stopped before the two.
Adjusting his cloak, Schwarz extended a hand.
“May I have this dance, Ariella Kapell Oinos?”
Normally, in such a setting, he would call her “the Demon King Ludwig’s contractor.”
But he used only her name.
At that, sparks of anger flickered in Ludwig’s eyes.
‘Oh boy… he’s about to blow.’
Ariella swallowed a wry smile.
‘Does he really think a single dance will steal me away?’
She had expected this.
Tradition dictated that the host claimed the first dance. No one broke that rule.
And courtesy demanded that the guest’s partner be chosen carefully. Considering rank, it had to be her.
After all, two Demon Kings couldn’t exactly waltz together.
Ariella leaned close to Ludwig and whispered,
“I’ll be right back.”
“…Fine.”
She took Schwarz’s hand and replied,
“With pleasure.”
Slow music drifted through the hall.
“This morning, you sent quite a few gifts.”
As Schwarz and Ariella danced slowly to the center, she finally spoke.
“Ah, you mean the dance teacher? He said a few demonstrations were enough for you—you learned in an instant.”
Schwarz’s tone had changed.
“There wasn’t much to learn.”
The steward of Schwarz’s castle had arranged for a teacher, so the southerners wouldn’t embarrass themselves at the ball.
It was less kindness than prevention.
“They said they chose the simplest dance. Something anyone could do after a single step.”
“Even so, your progress was unusually fast—compared to the others from the South.”
“Human dances are surprisingly similar.”
Even a simple dance could trip up a beginner.
But Ariella moved smoothly, holding conversation without faltering.
It meant she was truly skilled.
Schwarz watched her a moment before speaking.
“…Well, you were a princess in the human world. You must have danced plenty there.”
Ariella’s brow tensed slightly.
But her steps remained graceful.
“I don’t recall ever telling you about my past.”
“We have our sources. Let’s leave it at that.”
Schwarz turned her with practiced ease.
Over her shoulder, he caught Ludwig’s gaze.
Ludwig’s eyes blazed openly with anger.
‘So young… showing it so plainly.’
Casually, as if small talk, Schwarz spoke in a voice only she could hear.
“Forty tons. Five hundred thousand sel per ton.”
“…”
Of course, he meant black-iron ore.
But compared to yesterday’s offer, the supply was doubled, and the price cut in half.
‘What game is he playing?’
Schwarz continued, voice steady and low.
“On one condition. The dragon’s musk.”
“Yes.”
“All of it comes to us. And you’ll sign an oath never to sell it elsewhere.”
