Chapter 109: Angoras Growth (1/2)

The building that Angora lived in was the same as the other houses in the town, with clean walls that were painted white, which contrasted well with the light red tiles of the roof that could be seen under a layer of snow. Along with the evergreen plants that were planted in the courtyard, the entire building seemed as delicate and beautiful as a fairy’s house, and didn’t give the overly extravagant feeling that the mansions of the other nobles did.

Upon walking into the villa, Miller was met with a meticulously furnished meeting room.

Black and white tiles were laid out in a design that was simple but beautiful, and golden gilded tiles that were even considered extravagant back in the royal capital were arranged throughout the design, each and every tile polished to a shine.

The interior decor was also quite stylish and refined—Gray, comfortable-looking sofas surrounded the black wooden fireplace that was crackling with warm embers, while thick and lavish velvet carpets were laid on the floor. Above, a crystal chandelier hung on the ceiling and cast a dim glow on the room, and even though none of these items seemed all that special, but when put together, they complimented each other well and gave the room a special, classical air to it.

Following Vela, Miller was led to the study where he met the lord of the small town, the youngest son of the Silver Eagle Duke, Angora Faust.

This wasn’t the first time he had met Angora.

During the harvest festival two years ago, Miller who had been travelling around the kingdom received a letter from his father, urging him to come back to the duchy for the festivities. It was back then that he met this youngest son of the duke.

Back then, Angora was still a young kid that only hid behind his father, and even though he had decent manners and conduct, but because he was quite demure and timid, no one thought that he was a decent aristocrat.

This greatly disappointed many nobles that wanted to get on his good side while he was young in case he became the next duke of the duchy, to the point where all of them expressed support for Cecil Faust instead. This was also one of the reasons why Angora was sent to be the lord of this town that was in the middle of nowhere…

Miller hadn’t expected in the least that such a person would have been able to flourish in this backwater town.

At that moment, Angora was sitting behind the mahogany table with both of his elbows propped on the table, resting his chin on his laced fingers as he scrutinized Miller, his expression hidden by the backlight coming from the open window behind him.

In response, Miller felt as if he was faced with an indescribable, suffocating pressure from the man in front of him, making him break out in a cold sweat.

D*mn, was this really the same innocent young man from two years ago?

Miller had visited an orc tribe on the outskirts of the Great Duchy of Rimross a while ago, and the great shaman told him that, “Heroes are not born, they are made. What makes someone into a hero is not only their own talent and ability, but more so their trials and tribulations.”

He had completely dismissed this statement of the shaman. After all, didn’t the existence of Saints, Saintesses, and Chosen Ones completely prove this statement null and void?

At this moment however, he was forced to reconsider the plausibility of what the shaman had said. Was it really true that trials and tribulations could stimulate growth in character to such a degree?

“I have met you before, yes?” Angora asked.

“Yes, Sir Faust, we have met at the harvest festival before.”

“Ah, I remember now! Salutations to your father, the Minister of Military Affairs.”

“Uhm…”

“What is it? You can just tell me whatever is on your mind, as I’m not a duke like Father is, no need to be so reserved.” Angora smiled reassuringly, and continued, “Your position won’t be any lower than mine once you get one, after all.”