Reborn As Noble Chapter 1273: Gesture Toward True Grace ( 1273 )

"Perhaps." Gorak offered, his gaze flicking to the figure in silver armor who remained engrossed in his reading. "The merchant did confirm the person he arranged to meet was indeed human. And we are currently within the Dwarven Nation. It's not common to find humans wandering around in full plate armor, especially with a feathered crest."

Valcrea clenched her jaw, her eyes narrowing at the man seated at a separate table. "I will go and ascertain if he is the one."

Gorak gave a slight nod. "But refrain from causing a disturbance. We don't want any trouble before we manage to glean some information from him."

"Understood, Leader. I won't."

As Valcrea made her way toward the armored individual, Noji and Zume exchanged disquieted glances, annoyance evident on their faces.

"How dare he keep us waiting only to seat himself at another table as if we were invisible," Noji grumbled under her breath.

"Tch. These uncivilized humans from this continent possess no manners," Zume added, her tone laced with clear disdain.

Meanwhile.

Valcrea approached, diligently suppressing her mounting irritation. She halted beside the armored figure and crossed her arms.

"Oi, insignificant being."

The armored man continued to focus on his book, turning a page with deliberate slowness.

"Oi, imbecile! Can you not hear me? I am addressing you!"

The armored figure slowly lifted his gaze towards the woman beside him, his eyes betraying nothing behind the visor. He then returned his attention to his book, speaking in a measured, contemplative manner.

"Rudeness is indicative of a deficient intellect. Those who possess true strength understand the opportune moments for speech and silence. More importantly, they demonstrate consideration, particularly when another is minding their own affairs."

"Huh? What are you rambling about, you clanking fool?" Valcrea retorted sharply, her voice thick with vexation. "Some profound lecture on respect? Who do you imagine yourself to be?"

The armored man slowly shook his head before gesturing towards the dwarven waitress who had arrived with his drink, a cup, and a plate of roasted meat. She placed them down with a pleasant smile before departing.

"Oi! You should be grateful that someone of my stature, a beautiful maiden, even deigns to acknowledge a mere wanderer like you!" Valcrea declared, placing her hands on her hips.

The armored man looked up at her once more, deliberately raising his cup and taking a sip through his helmet. His gaze traveled from her head to her feet before he gave a slight shake of his head.

"I have traversed this entire continent, from the frigid northern peaks to the sweltering southern deserts. Throughout all my journeys, I have yet to encounter a single glimmer of the beauty you so readily claim to possess."

"W... what? How dare you..." Valcrea's voice escalated in anger. "Are you blind, or merely too dense to recognize genuine beauty when it stands before you?"

The armored man paid no heed to her outburst, briefly attending to his meal before his gaze shifted to one of the dwarven waitresses moving with practiced grace between the tables.

"Now, if you seek a discussion on beauty..." He indicated the dwarven girl with a subtle gesture. "Observe her. Her skin is unblemished by conceit. Her stature is fitting for her kind, and her physique possesses ideal proportions, with alluring curves in all the appropriate places. Her bosom is full and firm, captivating the attention of every dwarf in this establishment. Her hips sway with natural fluidity as she walks, and her movements are elegant, not stiffened by animosity."

He turned his attention back to Valcrea, his voice carrying a calm, cutting edge.

"In contrast to her, I find no trace of the attractiveness you so boldly assert for yourself. Your face is unremarkable, your chest flat, your skin coarse, and your eyes reflect nothing but arrogance and ignorance. If you represent the standard of beauty in your homeland, then your land must be truly desperate."

The armored man let out a soft chuckle before lifting his cup and draining it in a single motion. He placed the cup down with a quiet clink and shook his head.

"Forgive my bluntness, but even if you were to stand unclothed before me, or lie with your legs parted, I doubt my body would elicit any response. There is no fascination in haughtiness, no charm in bitterness. Far more captivating sights can be discovered within the quiet confines of a dusty library."

"H... how dare you!" Valcrea's countenance contorted with fury. "Do you court death?!"

"Hmm?" The armored man inclined his head, his voice retaining its composed, unhurried cadence. "Death is neither sought nor shunned. It arrives unbidden, knocking at the door when least expected. Having journeyed extensively and witnessed much, I understand that death is not an entity to be feared, nor a force to be rashly challenged. It will find you when your time has come."

Valcrea's hand darted towards her weapon, but before she could draw it, Gorak intervened, placing a firm hand on her wrist.

"My apologies for my companion's discourteous conduct," Gorak stated, his tone even. "She is prone to letting her temper gain the upper hand."

The armored man tilted his head, his voice maintaining the same placid, deliberate quality.

"A meal is much more enjoyable with pleasant company and a lighthearted atmosphere. However, when anger and arrogance join the table, even the finest liquor turns bitter, and the richest meat loses its savor. Perhaps you ought to instruct your companions in proper etiquette before approaching strangers."

"Once again... I apologize for any trouble caused by my companion," Gorak stated in a calm, measured tone before taking a seat opposite the man clad in armor.

The armored man slowly shook his head, reopening his book. He read with one hand, while the other leisurely reached for the liquor bottle, pouring it into his cup with a refined grace that starkly contrasted with the rough, dwarven tavern surrounding them.

"I hope you don't find me too forward, but are you the individual I was supposed to meet?" Gorak inquired, his voice maintaining its measured quality.

"Hm?" The armored man placed down his empty cup after a sip, glancing at Gorak before shifting his gaze toward the other table where Valcrea still stood, visibly seething. He then turned his attention back to Gorak.

"Are you the one the merchant mentioned?" He paused, a hint of amusement coloring his voice. "He stated he would arrange a meeting with a single man. Not someone accompanied by a group of..." He furtively glanced again at the women, his tone turning dry. "... companions who are less than appealing. I was anticipating a professional, not someone traveling with a retinue that conspicuously lacks any genuine beauty."

Gorak's smile grew strained, yet he compelled himself to maintain his composure. "My apologies once more for my companion’s conduct. Her temper unfortunately got the better of her."

"Mm." The armored man gave a slow nod, his voice remaining serene.

"Were it not for the merchant, who provided assistance during my formative years when I was still rather unrefined, I would not have consented to this meeting. I would have departed for the next town already. Consider yourself fortunate that I am indebted to him for a favor."