The Strongest Farmer in Another World ~I'm a "Farmer", Not a Demon King! ~ - Chapter 272

The Strongest Farmer in Another World ~I’m a “Farmer”, Not a Demon King! ~

Chapter 272    First audience in 15 years

The next day, we decided to head to the castle with only my father, Eddie, Kyle, and me. Sofia and Bell stayed back at the inn. If a battle were to break out, we wouldn’t be able to protect them.

Oh, and technically, Flora is also with us, but she’s separated from her vessel and residing within me. Taking her to the castle directly wouldn’t be relaxing for her.

Since she’s away from the main body of the sacred tree, she can’t stay detached from her vessel for an extended period, but it seems she can manage for about half a day.

Despite the others around us using carriages for transportation, the four of us walked on foot. The reason given was that having a carriage would be cumbersome in case we needed to escape, but it felt quite out of place.

“Halt! Unauthorized entry beyond this point is prohibited!”

Although we had permits to enter the noble district, obtained by my father from somewhere, allowing us to proceed smoothly on the way, we were stopped when we reached the front of the castle.

“Do we have permission? Oh, we sure do. We even sent word that we’d be coming here yesterday. What do you think?”

Despite being stopped, my father, in an audacious manner, responded as if he were joking.

“Word sent? …Are you sure?”

The gatekeeper, showing a puzzled expression at my father’s behavior, seemed to confirm by addressing another man standing nearby.

“No, having these guys show up… Oh, but there was a notice from an envoy coming from Karakas… Wait. Could it be true?”

It seems that, despite sending a unilateral letter without making a proper reservation just yesterday, the communication had indeed gone through.

“Well, then let us through.”

“N-No, wait! Do you have proof that you’re really envoys?”

However, even with permission verbally granted, it seems that as a gatekeeper, he couldn’t just let us through without evidence. We were stopped.

Certainly, there’s no proof that we are envoys, and it makes sense to stop us in case it turns out we have nothing to do with it.

But seriously, we’re not carrying any evidence that we’re from Karakas, right? There was never a need to prove our origin from that city, and if there was a need for proof, we could have just demonstrated our strength.

“Proof? Ah, we don’t have proof, but we do have a letter. See?”

“This is… Certainly a letter from the royal castle, but the date is different… Obtained illegally, perhaps. I can’t let you through!”

Ah, well, I expected this. The letter is genuine, but the date for our invitation is almost a week old. Coming here now with a letter from back then, it’s only natural to assume we’re using outdated information. Normally, it’s impossible to exceed the deadline for an invitation from the royal castle by a week.

“This is genuine, but, well, can’t be helped. Guess we’ll head back.”

“Is that okay?”

Seeing the Dad display a nonchalant attitude and withdraw so easily, I couldn’t help but ask. After all, there’s no point in coming all the way here if we just turn back now, and we won’t achieve our goal. It’s only natural to find this situation strange.

“I mean, if they won’t let us through, there’s nothing we can do. Well? Today, we’ve got an incredibly important meeting… Summoned personally by the king, no less. Even so, we were told by the gatekeeper to go back. Ah, can’t be helped. I mean, if they tell you to go back, what else can you do?”

“Hey, wai—”

Father deliberately spoke loud enough for the gatekeeper to hear, then turned his back. The gatekeeper, hearing those words, seemed caught off guard and somewhat flustered.

However, Father ignored the gatekeeper’s reaction and stepped forward.

Ah, I see. By now, I understood what Father was up to. Simply put, he’s trying to smoothly pass through by engaging in this kind of conversation.

In addition, even if we couldn’t get through smoothly, there would be no resolution by talking to a gatekeeper like this. Therefore, I think he’s trying to call someone who can understand the situation.

In reality, if we were really the guests scheduled for today, the gatekeeper would be troubled if we left just like that.

“Well, we’re going back, but if anyone complains, you deal with it. You might get your head chopped off, but good luck. If you have nowhere to go, you’re welcome to come to Karakas. Well, if your head is physically chopped off, I can’t welcome you, though.”

Isn’t that just dying? Even if a corpse were sent, I wouldn’t welcome that.

“Well, wait! I’ll go check now! So don’t go back!”

With those hurried words from the gatekeeper, we were detained, and he guided us to a waiting room set up near the gate.

Actually, if there’s a waiting room in a place like this, they should have guided us there from the beginning. Even if we seemed suspicious, they could have waited until something happened and caught us then.

I think that, but given the circumstances, the ones in the wrong for not keeping to the schedule and unilaterally pushing for today’s visit are us, so I can’t say anything.

While resting in the waiting room under the watchful eyes of soldiers, a well-dressed man around forty years old came in. Judging from his attire, he seemed like a noble. Could this guy be our escort?

“May I ask for your name?”

“I’m Volke. And this here is my son. Also, two guards.”

Father, reclining in the chair in an incredibly relaxed manner, responded to the man’s question. How can you handle it so casually? I admire it, but I don’t really want to imitate it.

“…Is it correct that you are Volke, known as the ‘Black Sword,’ one of the Five Emperors?”

It seems this man knows about Father, and after showing a slight surprise with a movement of his eyebrows, he asked the question.

“Ah, well, half right, I guess. The Five Emperors are no more. …Well, there is a new title, but I’ll tell you about that later. For now, just call me Volke.”

“In that case, do you have some form of identification?”

“Is a Mercenary Guild card okay?”

“Yes.”

“There you go. How’s that?”

“…Indeed, it has been confirmed. I will return this to you.”

With the exchange of cards concluded, Father finally raised his body, stretching as if to loosen up the tension.

“Please follow me. We are already behind schedule, so please hurry.”

“Sorry for being late. If we hadn’t been stopped at the gate, we could have arrived a bit earlier.”

Father brushed it off in a nonchalant manner, but considering we were already behind schedule compared to the planned day, being stopped at the gate wasn’t that relevant.

“We’ll be taking your weapons.”

“Yeah. They’re valuable, so don’t damage them.”

And so, guided by the nobleman, we proceeded toward the castle. However, as soon as we entered the castle, we were required to surrender our weapons.

Being residents of Karakas and, in the eyes of the general public, criminals, it was only natural for individuals like us to have our weapons taken away upon entering the castle.

Whether they had prepared in advance or not, following Father and Eddie, who had handed over their swords, Kyle and I removed the metal fittings from our waists and handed over our swords.

But, honestly, neither I nor Father really had any significant equipment. With the skill “Storage,” I could summon weapons (seeds) at any time, and, considering I could melt them by touching them with my palm, the weapons were more like decorations. Father could easily snatch something from those around him, and Eddie could manage without a weapon. Kyle, despite being a “Swordsman,” had “Martial Artist” as his main job, with “Swordsman” as a sub-job. To be honest, whether we all had weapons or not didn’t seem to make much difference.

But well, those must be the rules. Rather than visibly holding a weapon, it would probably be better suited as a ‘place for conversation’

“This way. Others are already waiting, so please.”

Guided this way, we arrived at the unnecessarily luxurious double doors. Could this be the audience room or the throne room?

“Yeah, open it.”

Despite the intimidating appearance of the door, Father casually ordered it to be opened without any hesitation.

“…From Karakas, Volke the ‘Black Sword’ and the following three have arrived!”

With this announcement, I could sense the displeasure from the knights standing nearby, but they seemed determined to carry out their duties. After notifying our arrival, the door was opened.

My father, without a hint of hesitation, proceeded beyond the door. However, I still felt a lingering tension. As we approached, the nervousness within me escalated. Yet, leaving was not an option, so I took a deep breath, lifted my head, and followed my father.

The room we entered was not just a room; it was more of a grand hall, spacious enough to be fitting for such a term.

Lined up on both sides of the room were adorned figures—nobles observing us. In the center, a long carpet stretched straight ahead. Not only nobles but armored knights stood in intervals among them. Whether this formation was a usual occurrence or specific to this occasion was unclear, but they seemed ready to act if anyone among us made a move.

Even beyond the knights and nobles, at a slightly elevated platform, sat a man adorned in opulence on an ornate chair. That, presumably, was the king of this country. And also, my biological father.

Yet, I couldn’t help but feel a sense of detachment. Honestly, up until this point, I had some reservations and uncertainties, similar to when I met my mother. However, upon meeting him, I didn’t feel much of anything.

Upon closer examination of my feelings, it wasn’t that I felt absolutely nothing. There were traces of resentment and anger, but they were trivial, almost inconsequential. It was more of an indifferent realization—this is how things are.

Of course, there is lingering resentment for being abandoned, and the fact remains that he tried to kill me. Revenge might be warranted, and I am prepared for retaliation as well.

While I may not harbor intense hatred, considering the facts and circumstances, revenge seems justified. What to call it, I’m not sure, but as long as it aligns with the reality of the situation, it’s good enough for me.