Richard And Lord Glutton

The moment the man adorned with extravagant jewelry and massive gem-encrusted rings on every finger—Lord Glutton—arrived, the room fell silent.

Among the Dwarves, there was nothing but blatant disgust. And as for Arthur…

Oh crap——!! They’re going to find out I’m here in disguise——!!

He was internally panicking like mad, ignoring the heavy mood. Morgan had warned him countless times that it would be a disaster if anyone found out he was in a city ruled by Edward—who belonged to Rod’s faction.

Arthur was about to sneak out before things got complicated…

“Hey, you—trying to run away!?”

Naturally, Arthur, who had received no formal training in covert movement, was easily spotted. When his eyes met the scowling Lord Glutton’s, Arthur found himself thinking something totally off base.

Whoa… so he can make that face too…

The Lord Glutton Arthur knew always wore a sycophantic smile, constantly bowing and scraping. That hadn’t changed, even in this life.

He would regularly show up with jewels and other gifts to curry favor. The maids were always amazed at the rare items he brought—clearly sourced from this place.

“I’m sorry, but I’m here to—”

“A noble here, of all places!! Let me guess, you tried plying them with drink to snatch up Dwarven goods on the cheap? Too bad! I’ve already bought out everything in this workshop from Edward. If you want anything, you’ll have to go through me—though I’ll be charging double the market price!!”

Arthur couldn’t hide his shock as Lord Glutton boasted with a smug face.

Wait… he didn’t recognize me!?

Granted, Arthur had slicked back his hair, changed into cheaper clothes, and returned from the mines looking a bit dirty. It might’ve made him less recognizable at a glance.

Still, Lord Glutton and Arthur had dined together several times. Arthur had even healed him upon request.

“Ugh… You’re not allowed to buy out an entire workshop!! Why do we have to sell everything to you…?”

“Kukuku, too bad. Even Edward, your employer, finally caved after all this time. I have the contract right here.”

Grinning mockingly, Lord Glutton held up a document as if to flaunt it.

It read: “All workshop products will be sold at market price. Edward will purchase 1%, and Lord Glutton will purchase the remaining 99%. Payment must be completed within 30 days.”

In Britannia, there was technically a law banning monopolies. But the law was full of loopholes. For instance, if another noble let Lord Glutton use their name, it could easily be circumvented.

Especially with the local lord—Edward—on his side, it was simple.

Ideally, this sort of thing should be stopped, but the nobles who benefited from these loopholes had no reason to change anything. Only people like Morgan, who had a strong sense of justice, even tried.

“Damn it, the contract’s airtight.”

“Of course. Wouldn’t want Morgan butting in and ruining the fun.”

At Gale’s frustrated comment, Lord Glutton smirked. As a noble with access to the castle, he was well aware that Greed had been condemned by Arthur and Morgan.

If the contract had included unfair pricing, it could be challenged. But since the terms matched the market rate, it was technically legal in today’s Britannia.

“Why would Edward agree to such a deal…?”

“He had no choice. I have close ties with Prince Arthur, after all. Without my recommendation, he’d never be able to ask the prince to treat his daughter.”

“Grghhh… So you’re taking not just the Orichalcum, but all the other minerals too…”

Gale groaned in frustration. But Arthur wasn’t even thinking about that. What shocked him wasn’t that Lord Glutton failed to recognize him—no, it was something else.

He had just witnessed it for the first time: a commoner being crushed by a noble’s authority… and the stark truth that people only cared about his healing ability—not him.

In his previous life, Mordred had said: “You don’t understand people’s hearts.”

Morgan had warned him: “If you don’t think for yourself, you’ll just be used.”

This abuse of power by nobles must be happening all across Britannia. The fact that Lord Glutton didn’t recognize Arthur just because of a small disguise proved it—he never cared about Arthur, only his healing magic.

Arthur thought he understood, but he hadn’t understood anything at all—not the inequality between nobles and commoners, nor the bitter truth of being used for his talent.

“Well then, don’t forget—the more you slack off, the further your daughter’s treatment gets pushed back!!”

With that, Lord Glutton slammed the door and left. The fire from earlier gone, the workshop fell into a sullen silence.

Except for one person—Arthur.

He was angry. Yes, angry at Lord Glutton’s shameless behavior… but even more than that…

He used me for his own gain and didn’t even recognize me!? He’s mocking meeeee!!

Yes, Arthur was petty. His fury pushed him into action he normally wouldn’t take. After returning from the workshop, he asked Marianne to send a letter urgently to a certain individual.

How that decision would unfold… only the gods knew.