The Padric family's mansion is dazzling tonight, with the Magic Crystal Lighting at the entrance brightening up half the street.
The servants in the mansion seed to be under the effects of Acceleration Magic, darting back and forth between the courtyard and the hall. Their trays were piled high with an array of exquisite snacks that dazzle the eye. Among them was the vampire-favorite "Blood Castle" and the Fla Demon's adored "Charcoal Roasted Coal Balls"... all the guests' tastes are well-catered to.
In the kitchen, the head chef was roaring: "Who put Hell's Pepper in the cake?! Do you want Miss Mia's noble guests to breathe fire while burping?!"
A little demon maid, full of grievance, whispered in defense: "But... the Madam said she wanted a bit of fiery flavor..."
"She ant ambiance, not a Fire Attribute Magic Potion!!!"
The deafening voice crashed through the kitchen door, nearly scared the little demon maid into losing control.
Tonight is Mia Padric's birthday party, and it's a significant twentieth birthday... which in Hell is equivalent to a coming-of-age ceremony in the human world.
Mr. Feistin has only this one dear daughter, thus this party was prepared especially grandly. And the servants in the mansion were giving their utmost spirit, fearing they might leave the esteed Miss with terrible mories.
At the front door, a young servant was nervously adjusting his posture for greeting guests, muttering under his breath: "Welco, welco... uh, welco to the Padric family feast, may you have a wonderful evening here—no, that's too stiff! Should I change it to sothing more enthusiastic?"
An older servant glanced up at him, leisurely saying: "If you really want to make so changes, it's alright, but at least don't say to the noble ladies 'Welco, the wine and gentlen here await your favor' like last ti."
The young servant shivered, recalling that socially deadly scene from last ti, deciding instantly that sticking to the official wording might be safer.
At least this won't go wrong.
The welcoming steward at the door was commanding servants to tidy up the red carpet while sporting a professional smile to greet guests arriving early. It wasn't long before he noticed so nobles brought their servants to secure spots in the courtyard, even a Hell Dwarf brought a folding chair, sitting solidly, a cigar in mouth, as if he were a general observing a military exercise.
A young demon attendant responsible for pouring champagne ended up spilling a glass, and in his panic, tried using a spell to clean it up, but his "Cleanse Technique" wasn't well learned, turning the carpet into a sticky swamp, trapping the shoe of a lady who had just entered. The lady's face turned stormy as she glared at the pitiful attendant, who quickly held up a champagne bottle: "Madam, would you like… uh, a drink first?"
The guard on the side was long accustod to this, even betting that at least five servants would nervously overturn trays today.
After all, a party at the Padric's is never just a party; it's a "social arena" in the Demon City's noble circle. A glass poured too slowly might miss the crucial alliance opportunity; a snack served to the wrong person might affect a business negotiation; even using the wrong restroom could beco a social joke circulated for years.
These are common occurrences.
At this mont, a commotion erupted outside the main entrance; evidently, a special guest had arrived early.
The crowd looked over, only to see a fiery "heatwave" accompanied by an arrogant laugh rushing in.
The arrival was none other than Baron Avister.
Holding two-thirds Fla Demon blood, he's the true "Fla King."
As he strode in, the red carpet beneath him scorched with faint charring.
The welcoming steward's forehead twitched violently, silently cursing this unrestrained fellow.
But his actions didn't stop here.
To leave a strong impression on the beautiful Miss Mia, he deliberately unleashed his scorching and wild magic power, like a peacock flaunting its feathers, kneeling on one knee on the soft red carpet.
"Tonight shall be the most dazzling night—because it belongs to the most beautiful Miss Mia, also to her destined knight—"
Baron Avister knelt on one knee, spread his arms wide, passionately recited so poetry, source unknown: "—I, Avister, am willing to burn my soul, my heart, to guide the way for Miss Mia."
The Hell Dwarf spectating like a "military review" couldn't help but sneeze, puffing smoke from his nose, laughing with a nearby goblin servant while comnting.
"I've heard this poem in a tavern, he changed it!"
Though the servants are used to the antics of various young masters, this scene almost made them burst into laughter.
The guests at the door stopped in their tracks, showing expressions of watching a drama.
They knew well that the Baron is a notorious playboy in Demon City's noble circle; any unmarried beautiful lady struggles to escape his molten lava-like fierce courtship.
However, today seed yet another ti he clashed with a tough nut, and it happened to be the Padric family's tough nut.
Tomorrow, the minstrels in the tavern would likely have another humorous lirick.
"Baron, my Miss does not need your illumination; she knows the way," the welcoming steward smiled, stepping forward, politely but firmly interrupting his theatrical show, "So, might I see your invitation?"
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