Transmigrated with a Demon-Refining Pot: Hehehe, Refine in an instant

Marquis Mammon's banquet has finally begun.

All three hundred-plus lords who currently reside in the pioneering lands have arrived.

They wore various formal dresses, some adorned with jewels that sparkled in the candlelight, their attire meticulously arranged.

The hall was carpeted in deep red, and long tables were set with silverware and crystal glasses, with servants carrying trays moving about among them.

Ron changed into a dark blue suit, with the Broccoli family crest pinned to his chest. Abaddon and Hart followed behind, standing in a corner of the banquet hall like two iron towers.

Although they were only knights, their strength was that of first-class knights, and they were qualified to attend the banquet.

They weren't quite used to this kind of occasion; they clutched their wine glasses, their eyes scanning the crowd as if looking for enemies.

As soon as Ron entered the banquet hall, he was surrounded by a number of nobles who wanted to curry favor with him.

Anyone can see that Ron has truly risen to prominence.

They were all seething with resentment, wondering why they hadn't noticed earlier; if they had, they could have married their daughter to him.

Ron calmly dealt with the lords' flattery, and was not fooled by their sweet talk.

Just as the banquet was about to begin, Marquis Mammon arrived late, surrounded by his entourage.

He wore a crimson robe and a gold chain around his neck. He had a beaming smile and looked as kind as the old man next door.

But Ron noticed a hint of coldness in his eyes.

This forced him to pull himself together.

Ron didn't touch a drop of the drinks at the banquet; he secretly threw them all into the small garden.

He dared not trust the character of these nobles.

"Ladies and gentlemen—" The Marquis raised his wine glass, and the banquet hall gradually quieted down.

"The internal strife in the duchy has ended, and it's time to restore order to the pioneering lands. I've invited everyone here today for no other reason than to see you all and catch up."

The peace and security of the newly developed areas will depend on everyone's joint efforts.

The applause was sporadic.

The Marquis continued, "In particular, several lords not only preserved their territories during the turmoil, but also helped the duchy suppress the rebellion."

Of all these, Ron Broccoli, Earl of the River Reach, was the greatest contributor!

All eyes turned to Ron.

Some were envious, some jealous, some scrutinizing, and some disdainful. Count Okra stood on the other side of the crowd, holding a wine glass in his hand, a half-smile playing on his lips.

Ron wasn't surprised that Marquis Mammon mentioned him; he was the only newly emerged earl in the frontier, so it would be strange if he wasn't mentioned.

Ron stood up, nodded slightly, and said nothing.

He didn't want to talk about it. But the Marquis clearly wasn't going to let him off the hook.

"Count Ron, come up here and say a few words."

What the hell does this mean? Chasing after him to kill him, all because he didn't stab your granddaughter.

Is this old bastard out of his mind to fight him to the death?

Ron walked onto the stage and stood beside the Marquis. The candlelight cast a long shadow on his face.

"I am deeply grateful for the Marquis's kindness, but I am unworthy of it."

His voice wasn't loud, but every word was clear:

"I can say with certainty that I am worthy of the glory I have today."

It all comes down to their unwavering loyalty to the Grand Duke!

When the Grand Duke first raised his army to restore order, I received a secret letter from him and immediately chose to stand firmly on his side.

As it turns out, the Grand Duke was the chosen one to lead our Bronze Duchy to victory.

"I propose a toast to the Grand Duke—our sun!" Ron said passionately.

The smiles of the nobles below froze for a moment. "Aren't you following the eldest prince?"

How come I'm suddenly siding with the Grand Duke again? And with a secret letter? Shameless.

No wonder he became an earl; I've learned something new.

These lords reacted quickly; regardless of their inner thoughts, they immediately raised their glasses:

"Respect the Grand Duke!!"

Marquis Mammon naturally had to offer a toast as well. Seeing how cunning Ron was, he lost his intention to make things difficult for Ron. He had originally wanted to give Ron a warning.

Let's not cause any trouble now.

Let's go kill that chicken from the plan.

The banquet continued.

Ron retreated to a corner, now watching how Marquis Mammon would put on this show.

Sure enough, it didn't take long before Marquis Mammon started again.

This time it's Earl Okra.

Marquis Mammon said with an unfriendly expression:

"Some of the merchant guilds in our pioneering areas have become incredibly audacious. I've heard that some merchants are even selling the wives and daughters of viscounts as lowly slaves."

And to make such a big show of it by letting those lowly people watch the spectacle, what kind of behavior is this?

This is utterly disgraceful to our entire aristocracy!

Some noble lords who arrived late were unaware of the specifics, and upon hearing this, they were immediately agitated.

Damn, how dare a bunch of slave traders do this? They must have been knocked unconscious by horse piss.

They were all clamoring to hang the people from that chamber of commerce.

In the eyes of these noble lords, even the defeated nobles should be dealt with internally by their own noble families.

You, a mere slave trader, dare to publicly auction off slaves? You're courting death.

But some lords who knew the inside story were now looking at Earl Okra with amused expressions.

It's obvious who Marquis Mammon is targeting.

Earl Okra's face was now ashen, especially when he heard the nobles talking about raiding the merchant guild, his expression became even more unpleasant.

But he's not stupid; he's clearly angered by the public, and it's already been brought up.

He can no longer reveal it himself; even if everyone knows later that the chamber of commerce belongs to him, he can't admit it now.

Seeing the intense reaction from below, Marquis Mammon continued:

"You're all right. As long as Oak City remains under my rule, I will never allow such an insult to the nobility to happen."

"Issue my order: send a squad of guards to raid that merchant guild, and hang all those involved."

Soon a guard received the order and went out.

Earl Okra's lips twitched, and a surge of anger welled up inside him like a volcano.

Marquis Mammon's behavior at this moment was as if he had been slapped hard in the face in front of everyone when he was at the height of his glory.

Then twist his ear and tell him.

No matter how arrogant you are outside, I'm still your daddy. You can beat me however you want.

Earl Okra knew that even though he had gained a lot of territory this time, he was still not on the same level as the Marquis.

Having incurred public wrath again, daring to confront the Marquis head-on would only lead to his own downfall.

He could only endure it and dared not lash out.

Marquis Mammon, seeing Earl Okra's face flushed red from holding back his anger, finally felt relieved.

However, Marquis Mammon only wanted to give Earl Okra a warning, to make him realize who really calls the shots in the pioneering lands.

It wasn't the chicken he was going to kill.

The relaxed atmosphere in the banquet hall had vanished, replaced by an eerie feeling.

Marquis Mammon's sharp gaze swept over the group of lords one by one.

The lords who were being looked at dared not even breathe, their backs covered in cold sweat.