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"I don\'t know the specific details, but there\'s a rumor that there will be special guests," Baros replied.

"Special guests?" Spark echoed, raising an eyebrow.

"What kind of figure would be deemed special by those old fogies?" Baros muttered, equally curious.

"It\'s only a rumor, though," Baros added quickly.

As they were casually chatting, a figure approached their table.

"Hey, did you not hear what I said?" a harsh voice cut through the air, drawing their attention to a skinny man standing before them.

Baros glanced around to see if the skinny man was addressing someone else, then pointed to himself. "You\'re talking to me?"

"Who else but you, f*t guy?" the man\'s tone grew harsher. "Empty this table. Our young lord wants to sit in this window seat."

His loud voice echoed through the restaurant, causing a pin-drop silence as everyone turned to watch the confrontation.

The restaurant, known for its exclusivity, often required reservations or extra payment for a prime seat. With no empty tables left, it seems this person had singled out Baros and Spark\'s table.

Dark lines appeared on Baros\'s face. Aside from Spark, no one dared disrespect him about his weight, especially not in his home city. This was the first time someone insulted him to his face and in such a public manner.

"Look, I\'ll even pay for your group\'s meal." The man retrieved a pouch and tossed it onto the table, its contents clinking audibly.

The customers watched silently, some with pity in their eyes for the man who had just sealed his fate. They knew the identities of the people at the window table and recognized that this wouldn\'t end well for this so-called young lord and his followers.

Spark, not anticipating such an event, struggled to contain his laughter, a wide grin spreading across his face.

Baros\'s face darkened further. "You\'re really trying to buy us off?"

"Are we in the wrong state?" Spark turned to Baros, grinning. "I\'m sure we were in the Dwight state just a while ago."

Noticing Spark\'s amusement, the skinny man snapped, "What are you grinning for? You\'ll leave this table too."

Hearing the skinny man\'s words, Spark nodded, the grin not leaving his face.

"Do you know who we are?" Baros asked, his expression still dark.

The man sneered. "I don\'t care who you are. Our young lord wants this table, and you\'re in the way."

"Are all people from outside this arrogant?" Baros remarked, taking a deep breath. "I just reunited with my bro, and I\'m in a good mood today. Apologize now, and we might forget this happened."

The skinny man scoffed, refusing to back down. "Who do you think you are?"

Before the situation could escalate further, a voice interrupted. "That\'s enough."

A cold-looking man dressed in blue, clearly the so-called young lord, approached with an air of authority. Behind him, a few similarly stern figures followed.

"Did you not find a suitable table yet?" the blue-dressed man asked, his tone exuding impatience.

"These guys won\'t give up their table," the skinny man complained, gesturing to Spark and Baros.

Turning to the table, the blue-dressed man said. "We came from afar and wanted to enjoy a meal while watching the scenery outside. We would be grateful if you gave us this table."

"Are you sure you want this table? Meals here could be quite expensive," Spark said, a hint of challenge in his voice.

"You dare mock our young lord? Do you know our young lord\'s identity?" one of the followers chimed in, his tone aggressive. "He is the second prince of the gin kingdom."

Spark chuckled, Shaking his head. It seemed these people didn\'t understand the meaning behind his words.

"A prince huh," echoed Spark. "You all are an interesting bunch."

"But that\'s fine. Let her finish first." Spark turned to Alice on the side.

They hadn\'t noticed before, but a small golden-haired, twin-tailed girl, was also seated at the table.

Due to the chattering, Alice had already stopped eating and stared cautiously at the newcomers.

"I am full, let\'s go, Father," Alice said, grabbing the hem of Spark\'s clothes with her tiny hand.

"Oh, she says she\'s full. Perfect, the table\'s all yours," Spark said as he stood up.

"Let\'s go." Spark patted Baros\'s shoulder.

The group cleared the table and left the restaurant. As the skinny man watched them leave, he snickered and turned to his young lord.

"See, young lord, you just need to give your name and people will make way for you everywhere," the man said in a flattering tone.

…

After the group cleared the table, they settled in, enjoying their meal with a view of the city outside.

As the skinny man savored his food, he noticed his young lord seemed preoccupied.

"What\'s troubling you, young lord?" he asked.

Turning to the skinny man, the young lord mused, "Don\'t those people before seem familiar? Especially the gold-haired one."

"I don\'t recall," the skinny man replied, bewildered, as did the others at the table.

But the blue-dressed man was not satisfied with his answer. He had noticed the almost pitiful gazes of the customers around them during their confrontation with Spark and his group. Even when his followers revealed his identity as a prince, neither the group nor the customers around them reacted.

Why should he worry about it? He shrugged off the thought.

He was confident in himself and his background. He was the second prince of a remote kingdom. In his kingdom, he was the most talented genius. At an early age, he had shown talent that surpassed his siblings. He could have chosen the throne; however, his goal lay elsewhere. He didn\'t want to become a small fish in a pond.

After hearing about the Emperor Academy, he traveled countless distances and finally arrived here.

Just as the young lord was reminiscing about his past, he noticed many figures in armor entering the restaurant below. His eyes widened slightly. These weren\'t ordinary guards; they had an unmistakable air of elite forces, and he sensed a powerful ascendant among them.

*****

A:N:- I accidentally touched privilege settings which caused to open first tier, and it seems I cannot delete it. Again, my fault.