Chapter 129: The Banquet
“The young heroes of Saint Roland Magic Academy!”
His voice was so loud that the attention of the entire hall was drawn toward them.
“I have long heard of you, long heard of you! Word reached ages ago that this year’s Lower Division was overflowing with talent. Now that I see you in person, it is just as expected—bearing like dragons and phoenixes, and an extraordinary air besides!”
He enthusiastically seized Ryan’s hand and gave it a hearty shake, then patted Randall on the shoulder, offered Lillian an exaggerated gentleman’s bow, gave Rex a thumbs-up, and finally let his gaze fall on Evans—
Evans took half a step back.
The Count was not embarrassed in the least. He withdrew his hand and said with a beaming smile,
“Are you all settled in comfortably? I trust the camphor wood in my guest courtyard is still presentable? Those clusters of purple flowers were planted by my wife herself. What was the na again… ah, getting old, I can’t rember…”
“Your Lordship is too thoughtful,” Randall replied with polished courtesy. “Your arrangents have been impeccable. We are deeply grateful.”
“Oh, not at all, not at all! It is only what should be done!”
The Count waved his hand cheerfully.
“Tonight, simply enjoy yourselves—good wine, fine food, music and dancing to enliven the evening. Young people ought to dance if they wish to dance, and make friends if they wish to make friends!”
Then he paused, lowered his voice slightly, and that keen gleam surfaced again in his eyes.
“Of course, serious matters are not neglected either. All of you are young pillars preparing to venture into those ruins. Half the guests in this hall tonight will be your fellow travelers. As for the other half…”
He chuckled but did not continue.
Ryan followed the direction of his gaze.
Throughout the hall, amid fine clothes and shifting shadows, countless eyes were already being cast openly and covertly toward the doorway.
Of course, not everyone present was going to the Starfall Ruins. If one counted carefully, the true participants attending tonight did not even number fifty.
As for the rest—the young masters and young ladies dressed in finery and holding wine glasses—most had only co to show their faces, taking advantage of the opportunity.
Every noble house knew that the finest talents in the Empire under the age of twenty would gather here tonight, so anyone who could obtain an invitation had co. Those wishing to strike up conversations, those hoping to forge ties, those wanting an early look at future rivals—all of them had crowded into this brilliantly lit hall.
Small groups of noble youths were scattered through every corner.
So held wine glasses and spoke in low voices, yet their eyes kept scanning the hall. So leaned against pillars with faint smiles, openly assessing the newcors. So stood with their backs to the crowd, revealing only a sliver of dark red lining beneath a cloak.
A girl in a champagne-gold dress stood by one of the long tables laughing with her companions, but her eyes kept drifting toward the entrance. Several young n in dark formalwear gathered near the window, lowering their voices as they spoke and occasionally jerking their chins in the direction of the dance floor. In the shadow of a pillar stood a few who had not said a word from start to finish, holding their glasses and watching in silence, as though counting sothing.
This was the Count of Rock Bay’s estate tonight.
A selection process beneath the skin of a banquet. A contest wrapped in music and dancing.
The gauzy tension in the air seed to draw a little tighter.
“Enjoy yourselves well.” The Count patted Ryan on the shoulder and stepped back with a genial smile. “Young people, the night is still long.”
Then he turned and lted into another cluster of greetings and small talk.
Ryan remained where he was, his deep ink-blue formalwear giving off the faintest cool sheen beneath the hundreds of candle flas. His gray-blue eyes swept the hall, gathering one unfamiliar face after another, one open gaze after another, one concealed glance after another.
The music changed to sothing lighter, and the crowd began to drift toward the dance floor.
The banquet had officially begun.
The Count stepped to the center of the hall and raised a hand for quiet. The music gradually lowered.
He cleared his throat. His plump face was piled high with smiling warmth, so much so that even the wrinkles at the corners of his eyes seed kind. Looking around the hall, he called out in a voice loud enough to lift the roof:
“Ladies and gentlen! With so many honored guests gathered here tonight, this humble hall is filled with glory! I am deeply honored!”
“Those assembled here are all young talents gathered from every corner of the Empire. So are descendants of distinguished noble houses, while others are geniuses who carved their way through sheer ability. The re fact that you are standing here is proof enough that you belong to the finest young generation in the Empire!”
Soone raised a glass in answer, and scattered applause arose from among the guests.
Still smiling, the Count raised a hand again for calm. Then his eyes slowly swept over the entire hall, and his smile deepened further.
“So—please, all of you bright young talents, enjoy tonight to the fullest! Good wine, good food, music and dancing—drink as freely as you please, dance as freely as you please!”
Cheers burst from the crowd.
Young laughter and applause surged through the hall like a tide, rushing into every corner.
Ryan stood where he was.
He could feel those eyes.
From the mont the Count had called loudly in their direction, countless gazes had clung to him like iron filings pulled by a magnet—falling on that deep ink-blue formalwear, on that calm and clear-boned face, on those gray-blue eyes.
So were asuring him. So were evaluating. So were simply curious. And so… carried sothing harder to na.
Ryan did not avoid them, nor did he respond.
He rely stood there, his gray-blue eyes as calm as deep water.
Of course he knew why the Count was being so warm.
Saint Roland Magic Academy was, without question, the most prestigious academy in the Empire.
Every year, tens of thousands of young people tried to force their way in, only to find that fewer than three hundred ultimately received that thin letter of admission. Of those who entered the Interdiate Departnt, seven out of ten would manage to graduate successfully. And among those seven, so would go on to the Imperial Magic Research Institute, so would enter the service of the great noble houses as resident mages, and others would join the army as military-attached mages. Even the least successful among them would still be able to secure a respectable post in the castle of so local lord, living comfortably and earning the regard of others.
In a word, once one stepped through the gates of Saint Roland, one’s future was secure.
Those chosen to represent the academy were even more secure than that.
The Count was rely doing what amounted to a favor carried along by the current.
A few kind words, a display of enthusiasm, in exchange for a future possibility—if even one of these youths should soar to great heights one day and rember tonight’s al and tonight’s praise, even if it earned him no more than a nod, the Count would already have profited.
And if no one rembered, he would still have lost nothing.
Once the Count’s speech concluded, the musicians struck up the dance music again. The lively lody flowed like an invisible river beneath the ceiling of the hall, scattering tiny ripples of light through the many-faceted crystals of the chandeliers.
The crowd began to move.
Young n and won in formalwear of every shade drifted toward the dance floor, skirts sweeping elegant arcs across the polished floor. Ice blue, wine red, dark green, champagne gold—hair of every color glowed softly under the light of the countless candles, like a field of flowers stirred by the wind.
So linked arms and spoke softly together. So walked the hall with wine glasses in hand. Several bolder young ladies had already taken up places at the edge of the dance floor, their eyes bright as they waited to be invited.
Ryan withdrew his gaze and headed for the long table in the corner.
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