Chapter 119: Table Feast

  The vows had been spoken, the tears shed, and the union sealed under the watchful gaze of the gods and the desert sky. Now, as the sun began to dip below the horizon, painting the vast canvas of the sky in bruised purples and burnt oranges, the solemnity of the ceremony gave way to the roar of celebration.

  The massive doors of the Great Hall were thrown open, ushering the guests out into the sprawling palace courtyard. The air was cooling rapidly, the harsh heat of the day replaced by a pleasant, balmy breeze that carried the promise of a long night.

  Lanterns, suspended high between the palace walls, flickered to life, casting a warm, golden glow over the stone.

  The courtyard had been transformed into a culinary battlefield. Rows of long, pristine tables were set up, manned by chefs in starched white uniforms, their knives flashing like quicksilver under the lantern light. They were cooking live—grilling skewers of spiced lamb over open charcoal pits that sent mouth-watering plumes of smoke into the air, tossing noodles in massive woks that hissed and spat with garlic and oil, and carving roasts that dripped savory juices onto waiting platters.

  To the side, an open bar stretched the length of a small house, stocked with bottles of every shape and color—amber whiskeys from the highlands, clear, biting liquors from the north, and sweet, fermented fruit wines native to the oasis.

  In the center of it all, seated on a raised pedestal cushioned with velvet, were Malik and Samira. They looked exhausted but radiant, holding hands as a steady stream of well-wishers approached to offer congratulations.

  King Ahmed, having recovered his composure from the earlier interruption, stood next to a massive brass gong that looked older than the palace itself. He raised a velvet-covered mallet and swung it with surprising vigor.

  BONG!

  The sound reverberated through the courtyard, a deep, resonant note that vibrated in everyone's chest, silencing the chatter instantly.

  "Everyone!" King Ahmed’s voice boomed, amplified by the acoustics of the courtyard. "All the guests who are here, I thank you for your time and for coming to my daughter's wedding."

  He looked out at the sea of faces—royalty, commoners, adventurers, and the odd ones—with a gaze full of warmth.

  "We, the royal family, are immensely happy with your presence today. And thus, without further ado..." He gestured grandly to the chefs, who raised their ladles and tongs in salute. "Let the feast begin!"

  A thunderous cheer erupted, shaking the very foundations of Kah-Kamun. The music swelled, a lively, rhythmic beat of drums and flutes, and the crowd surged forward, eager to taste the delights of the desert.

  But no festivity in Kah-Kamun would be complete without the presence of two particular chaotic elements.

  "Glad we made it," Raito commented, stepping out from the shadows of a pillar.

  He looked markedly different from the sewer-drenched swamp monster of an hour ago. He was scrubbed clean, his hair damp and slicked back, wearing a fresh, sharp midnight-blue suit that matched the deepening sky.

  Beside him, Yukari adjusted the skirt of her new crimson dress—a bold choice that clashed beautifully with her blue hair. However, her elegance was slightly marred by the fact that she was pinching her nose with two delicate fingers.

  "What was in that sewer?" Yukari mumbled nasally, eyeing him with suspicion. "I swear I can still smell it radiating of off you."

  Raito sniffed his sleeve, frowning. "You are being too dramatic. I used half a bar of lavender soap. I smell like a walking flower garden."

  He shot her a side-eye. "And don't forget that I wouldn't have been in that situation in the first place if not for someone dropping me into that grate."

  Yukari blinked, her face a mask of perfect, innocent confusion. She shrugged elegantly.

  "Was that my idea?" She tilted her head. "I honestly forgot."

  "You..." Raito sighed, shaking his head as he watched the first wave of guests attack the buffet. "Never change, Yukari. Never change."

  "Hohoho!"

  A familiar, booming laugh vibrated through their chests, announcing the arrival of the jolly merchant before he even stepped into the light. Bob waddled over, a goblet of wine in one hand and a skewer of grilled meat in the other, looking like the very spirit of festivity itself.

  "Glad you two could make it!" Bob beamed, his mustache twitching with mirth. "Especially after what happened earlier. It really livened up the mood! I can even feel the tension immediately drain from Malik. Hohoho!"

  Raito grimaced, adjusting his cufflink. "Yeah, well, that wasn't our original plan. We really thought that old lady was Malik's mother."

  Bob laughed again, louder this time. “Must be a huge misunderstanding!” Bob slapped his thigh. "So why didn't you two just ask? 'Khan' is a very common surname here in Kah-Kamun. It's like 'Smith' in Volnear!"

  Raito and Yukari froze. They looked at each other, their eyes wide. The thought of simply asking the old lady her child's name or checking common surnames had completely bypassed their exhausted brains.

  "We forgot," Yukari complained, her voice sharp with lingering annoyance. "Especially after you forced us into that receptionist booth for six hours in the desert heat. You invited too many people, Bob."

  "I'm sorry, but..." Bob spread his arms wide, encompassing the joyous chaos around them. "Festivities have to be festive, right? The more the merrier! Hohoho!"

  "The 'merrier' should not include more than ten thousand people, Bob," Raito groaned, rubbing his temples.

  "Alright, alright," Bob chuckled, taking a bite of his skewer. "Me and my brother will be more reserved next time we have a party. Hohoho!"

  He winked conspiratorially at them. "Now, don't you two have people and food to attend to? I bet some are dying to meet the famous wedding crashers."

  Raito and Yukari exchanged a glance, a spark of excitement finally cutting through their fatigue. They scanned the courtyard, spotting familiar faces amidst the crowd—adventurers, scholars, and old friends waving from near the dessert tables.

  "Split up?" Raito asked, loosening his tie slightly.

  "Agreed," Yukari nodded, her eyes locked on a tray of seafood.

  With that, the two chaotic runaways split up for their own occasions, leaving Bob with a big grin of acknowledgment as he turned back to the party.

  In a quieter corner of the courtyard, away from the roaring fires and the thrum of the drums, two women sat on a stone bench beneath a palm tree.

  Mila sat close to her mother, Aisha, her usual stoic guard demeanor completely melted away. She picked at the silk of her purple dress, looking down at her hands.

  "You... you actually came," Mila said shyly, her voice barely a whisper. "Even when I barely talk with you in my letters."

  "Of course," Aisha said warmly. She reached out, her calloused hand gently stroking Mila’s cheek. "You are my daughter. And you told me this is a special day for you. So I didn't want to miss it."

  Mila leaned into the touch, closing her eyes. The noise of the feast faded into a distant hum.

  "You have been through a lot, haven't you?" Aisha murmured, her eyes tracing the subtle lines of hardness that hadn't been on her daughter's face when she left the village years ago.

  Mila just nodded, unable to trust her voice.

  "Do you mind telling your mother what is going on?" Aisha asked, her tone filled with maternal concern. "You told me you were going to be a mercenary... then you got recruited by royalty... and then your letters just cut off. I was worried."

  Mila sniffled, opening her eyes. "I will... but it will be a long story. A very long story."

  "I have time," Aisha smiled, a warm, grounding expression that made the chaotic world seem simple again. "I am not going anywhere."

  Mila let out a shaky breath. She lifted her hand and wiped a stray tear from her face.

  "Ever the crybaby," Aisha chuckled softly, pulling her daughter into a hug.

  Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

  Meanwhile, in another part of the courtyard, shadowed by the towering sandstone walls and slightly removed from the main flow of the feast, another group had assembled.

  To the casual observer, they were a collection of contradictions.

  There was Zhu Lihua, the stoic War General of the Ruhong, sipping tea with military precision. Beside her stood Tanvir, the diminutive Museum Director. Next to him was Sun-Yoon, the hermit farmer from the tropical lands of Hanyuun, looking entirely out of place in his simple robes. And finally, fanning herself with a look of bored elegance, was Lily Pence, the world-renowned idol and Jewel of the Sea.

  A General, a Scholar, a Hermit, and a Celebrity. They had nothing in common.

  But those who knew—those who could see the faint, almost imperceptible hum of energy that distorted the air around them—knew better. These were the Lords. The Demigods of this world. Living legend.

  A heavy silence hung between them, a barrier that the sounds of the party struggled to penetrate.

  "So..." Sun-Yoon started, his voice rumbling like distant thunder, breaking the awkward stillness. "How long ago was it that we physically met?"

  Tanvir's eyes scanned the data in his mind as quickly as flipping pages in a book. "Based on my memory? Never."

  "Shorty is right," Zhu commented, placing her teacup down with a soft clink. "This is the first time since our creation that we have actually stood face-to-face in physical forms."

  Tanvir’s face turned a shade of red that rivaled the sunset. "I am not a shorty!"

  He lunged, swinging a fist wildly at the Blaze Lord. Zhu didn't even blink. She simply extended one arm, placing her palm flat against Tanvir’s forehead. The Quake Lord flailed helplessly, his arms swinging at empty air a foot away from her face, held back by the insurmountable difference in their reach.

  "Too short," Zhu deadpanned.

  "Un-hand me, you brute!" Tanvir squawked, his dignity evaporating.

  "As I reckon," Lily said, ignoring the scuffle and inspecting her manicured nails, "before this, we only ever convened in the mental space. It feels... strangely mundane to be breathing the same air."

  "Hmm... is that so?" Sun-Yoon stroked his long, white mustache, his eyes crinkling. "How odd."

  He released a breath that smelled of ozone and rain. "Then the only reason this unprecedented gathering has occurred must be..."

  Sun-Yoon scanned the courtyard. His gaze cut through the crowd, past the dancing nobles and the busy chefs, until it locked onto two specific figures.

  Near the roasting spit, Raito was practically vibrating with anticipation as a chef carved a massive slice of roast pork. A few feet away, Yukari was critically examining a row of colorful exotic juices, testing them with small, decisive sips.

  Sun-Yoon smiled, a genuine warmth reaching his eyes. "It must be because of those two."

  Tanvir stopped flailing. Lily stopped fanning. They both looked at the chaotic duo, horror dawning on their faces.

  "Absolutely not," Tanvir and Lily said in perfect, unplanned unison, their voices overlapping. "We will not acknowledge them. They are nothing but trouble."

  Then, they split their complaints, though the timing remained impeccable.

  "Especially the boy," Tanvir spat, smoothing his ruffled suit.

  "Especially the girl," Lily sniffed, crossing her arms. "She has no appreciation for the arts."

  They paused. They looked at each other, shocked that they had spoken in perfect synchronization.

  "See?" Sun-Yoon laughed, a belly laugh that shook the beads on his necklace. "They definitely changed us for the better. Look at us, agreeing!"

  Tanvir and Lily groaned in unison, looking away.

  "Surely we didn't just gather here for simple talk, right?" Zhu said, her voice cutting through the banter. She released Tanvir, who stumbled back with a huff. Her gaze turned sharp, the General replacing the mother. Steering the conversation back to reality.

  Sun-Yoon’s playful demeanor vanished instantly. The air around them grew colder, heavier. The sounds of the drums seemed to fade into a dull buzz.

  "I am simply here because I was invited along with the Hanyuun group," Sun-Yoon said, his voice dropping an octave. "But indeed... I have come across new information about our missing brother."

  Tanvir’s eyes narrowed. "Let's hear it then."

  "The White One," Sun-Yoon said, the title carrying a weight of ancient history. "One of the missing ones. I know where he is. He is still living in Norval."

  He paused, letting the information sink in. "And some say... he is somehow acting as its ruler."

  "Preposterous," Tanvir snapped, shaking his head. "A Lord's original directive was to observe, not rule. We are guardians, not kings. That goes against the core tenets of our existence."

  "I agree," Sun-Yoon nodded solemnly. "But that is only the rumor."

  He looked toward the north, where the stars were hidden behind a veil of darkness. "Since the border to Norval is closed, and with the constant, unnatural snowstorm brewing there for decades... it will be hard to know the truth currently. But the whispers are getting louder."

  "We also found something about the Yellow One, though not much," Zhu added, her voice low, barely audible over the distant festivities.

  "Yeah," Tanvir grunted, adjusting his collar. "That brute who clashed with the palace guards and... me... a few days ago. He was using lightning elemental power. It was crude, unrefined, but it had the Yellow One's energy signature all over it."

  "And what came of it?" Sun-Yoon asked, tilting his head.

  Tanvir shrugged, a gesture of frustration. "Other than that brute getting silenced before he could talk? Not much."

  "However," Zhu interjected, her eyes gleaming with a strategist's light. "We do know of an existence by the name of 'Master W' who is currently residing in Volnear. Our intelligence suggests he might know of her whereabouts."

  Sun-Yoon hummed, a deep vibration in his chest. He looked out across the courtyard, his gaze landing once more on Raito, who was now laughing at something a passing juggler had done.

  "We have been missing those two for more than decades," Sun-Yoon mused, stroking his beard. "But suddenly, we finally have a start. Fate indeed has a funny way of making us move forward."

  Tanvir he rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Then, what information do you have, Blue One?” Tanvir asked, turning to Lily.

  Lily froze mid-sip of her iced nectar. She blinked, looking around at the expectant faces of the ancient beings.

  "Oh... yeah. Information. Right." She fidgeted, smoothing the silk of her dress. "Well... I have a new play in the works! It's a tragedy, very moving. Also, I got Serra to try a new style of massage technique that does wonders for the pores, and a new boutique shop was just built in Azul Spira..."

  Tanvir facepalmed. The sound of his hand hitting his forehead was louder than the music for a brief second.

  "This one is hopeless," he groaned into his palm.

  "Hey!" Lily huffed, pouting. "It is not my fault that my region is peaceful! Peace means no news, and no news is good news!"

  Sun-Yoon chuckled, shaking his head. But the amusement quickly faded from his face as he turned back to Zhu. His expression grew grave, the grandfatherly warmth replaced by the sharpness of a master concerned for his student.

  "How is... my disciple?" Sun-Yoon asked quietly. "I heard not-so-good things about him recently."

  Zhu’s hand tightened around her teacup. A shadow passed over her face, pain warring with resolve.

  "Let me be honest," Zhu sighed, looking down at the dark liquid in her cup. "Whatever is happening to him... it is uncontrollable. It comes out randomly, with no warning signs. Right now, it is dormant, but it might flare up again at any moment. We need to pay closer attention."

  Sun-Yoon studied her face for a long moment, his eyes seeming to pierce through her defenses. "It seems like you still have something that you kept from us, Zhu."

  Zhu closed her eyes. She took a deep breath, steeling herself.

  "That black flame..." she whispered, the temperature around their table dropping perceptibly. "The one that boy possessed... the energy signature is not elemental energy. That sinister power... that feeling of absolute void..."

  She opened her eyes, looking at her peers with stark fear. "It reminds me of IT."

  Tanvir, Lily, and Sun-Yoon’s eyes widened in unison. The color drained from Lily’s face, her fan falling into her lap.

  "But..." Lily stammered, her voice trembling. "We haven't heard anything about IT since what happened in Azul Spira. We know that the fortress is still in repair. It should be impossible."

  "I know," Sun-Yoon said, his voice grim. "But if the red one feels it... then we cannot ignore it."

  He looked back at Raito, who was now happily eating a skewer, oblivious to the heavy gaze of the demigods.

  "We ought to be careful," Sun-Yoon commanded softly.

  Zhu, Tanvir, and Lily nodded slowly, a pact of silence and vigilance sealed amidst the laughter of the feast.

  "Grandpa Sun-Yoon!"

  Two voices chirped from directly behind them, shattering the solemn atmosphere like a brick through a stained-glass window.

  Zhu flinched. Tanvir jumped. Lily nearly dropped her fan again.

  Raito and Yukari popped up between the seated demigods, grinning from ear to ear. Before the Lords could react, the duo wrapped Sun-Yoon in a tight, simultaneous hug, burying their faces in his robes which smelled of earth and rain.

  "Long time no see!" they chorused. "We missed you!"

  Sun-Yoon blinked, the grim shadow of the 'White One' and 'IT' evaporating instantly. His face softened, the ancient warrior receding to let the doting grandfather take over. He chuckled, patting their backs with his large, calloused hands.

  "Oh, you two," Sun-Yoon laughed, the sound rumbling warmly in his chest. "It has indeed been a while."

  They pulled back, beaming. Then, Yukari turned her gaze to the woman sitting next to him.

  "Oh, and you too, I guess," Yukari said, tilting her head with feigned vagueness. "Whatever your name is."

  Lily’s jaw dropped. She stood up so fast her chair screeched against the stone.

  "It's Lily!" she shrieked, striking a pose that highlighted her perfect silhouette against the lantern light. "Lily Pence! The Jewel of the Sea! Celebrity extraordinaire! I cannot with you right now!"

  Yukari chuckled, clearly delighted. "Still as dramatic as ever."

  Raito, meanwhile, was scanning the table. His eyes darted from the War General to the Museum Director, then to the Hermit, and finally to the screeching Celebrity. He scratched his cheek, a frown creasing his forehead.

  "This is an odd lineup," Raito commented, his sharp eyes narrowing slightly. "What would the... Lords be discussing to be so huddled together?"

  The air froze for a microsecond. No one answered immediately.

  "The ways of farming," Sun-Yoon answered immediately, his face the picture of serene honesty.

  Raito blinked. He looked at Sun-Yoon. Then he looked at Lily, who was wearing a dress that cost more than a farm and had nails that had clearly never touched dirt in their existence.

  "Really?" Raito asked, deadpan. "With Lily here? Discussing... farming?"

  "Huh?"

  "Yeah, that sounds way off," Yukari commented, looking at Lily’s manicured hands. "But alright, I guess."

  "Hey!" Lily stomped her foot, offended for reasons she couldn't quite articulate. "I can also farm, you know! I played a milkmaid in The Rustic Romance of Riverbend! I milked a prop cow!"

  "Sure, sure," Yukari rolled her eyes. She reached out and grabbed Lily by the wrist. "Anyway, I need to borrow her for a second. Need her to meet someone more important than her. Bye everyone, enjoy the party!"

  "Wait! Unhand me!" Lily protested as she was unceremoniously dragged away toward the dessert table. "I am a dignitary! This is kidnapping!"

  Zhu watched them go, letting out a long, weary sigh that seemed to deflate her entire posture.

  "Can't you control your step-daughter more?" Tanvir commented, adjusting his collar.

  "I already promised her I wouldn't anymore," Zhu said, picking up her tea. "So, no. She is free."

  Sun-Yoon watched the scene with amusement, then turned his attention to the boy still standing there.

  "Young Raito," Sun-Yoon said, pointing a thumb over his shoulder toward the dance floor. "I think young Isao wanted to meet you. He seemed quite eager to show you something."

  "Really?" Raito’s eyes lit up. "Alright then!"

  He turned to the crowd, standing on his toes to scan the sea of heads. It didn't take long. A magnificent, gravity-defying black pompadour was visible even from a distance, bobbing rhythmically to the music.

  "Nice meeting you again, Grandpa," Raito grinned, waving as he backed away. "We'll catch up later!"

  He dashed off into the crowd, dodging waiters and dancing couples with practiced ease.

  Sun-Yoon watched him go, his smile lingering.

  "At least," he murmured, taking a sip of his drink, "they are still as energetic as ever."