novelraw Chapter 387: The Banquet of Infamy
Chapter 387: The Banquet of Infamy
Ethan stepped into the auditorium, a colossal space that felt more like a modern coliseum than a conference hall. The air was thick with a mixture of expensive incense and the metallic ozone of high-tech security dampeners.
In the front row—the epicenter of the nation’s power—the seats of the sovereigns awaited. There sat the legends: the leader of Celestial bathed in silver light; the general of the Sea King Army with his deep blue aura; the chief of the Desert Oasis wrapped in tan hues; and the leader of the Scavengers, whose place was marked with a dark red that looked like dried blood. The two remaining seats, reserved for Ethan and Anne, stood out under a golden glow.
As he sat, Ethan noticed the map projected onto the table. His territory, Massachusetts, glowed with the Royal emblem in pure gold. Beside him, the Matriarch’s spot simply read "Blackwood Matriarch," colorless, as if she stood above any geographic division.
The leader of Celestial stood up. Like a spring, everyone in the auditorium rose out of respect, except for Ethan and Anne, who remained seated with icy apathy. The glares from the silver and bronze leaders in the back rows were fierce, but Ethan ignored them, scanning the room with calculating eyes.
"It is an honor to host this triennial meeting of the powers of the United States," the Celestial leader began. "I thank you all for coming despite the date being moved up a year. The urgency of the times left us no choice. Now, let us welcome the Union Deacon, who will grant legitimacy to our assembly."
At that moment, a presence entered the room. Ethan felt a genuine chill of danger. Beside him, Anne released a killing intent so dense that the air turned heavy for a second. Ethan understood immediately: this man was the Matriarch’s personal target.
"Crul, analyze him," Ethan commanded mentally.
[Master, the Deacon possesses a divine-grade interference device. I must use your Amethyst Eyes to penetrate his veil.]
Ethan activated his eyes, and for a brief moment, the world was tinted purple.
[Analysis complete. His original cultivation level has ascended to the Spiritual Gathering Realm, First Grade: Spiritual Perception. However, like everyone in this building, his power is limited by the city’s array to the Organ Refinement level.]
"If I face him now, what are my chances?" Ethan asked.
[Without spatial compression: 40% victory. With spatial compression: 96% victory.]
Ethan leaned back in his chair, feeling a renewed sense of confidence. The Deacon sat on an elevated throne, outside the main table but above everyone, symbolizing that the Union was the supreme authority.
"Following tradition," the Celestial leader continued, "we will proceed with the program: first, the opening banquet; then, the reading of urgent matters and decision-making; followed by the voting on new powers, the redistribution of territories, and finally, the exchange of resources."
Two claps echoed, and a procession of waiters placed dishes in front of the leaders. Ethan looked at the meat on his plate; it pulsed with a vital energy that was almost violent. As he reached out, Crul intervened.
[Master, that meat comes from the remains of a spiritual beast. While beneficial to the body, you may not want to taste it after what you are about to see.]
Before Ethan could ask, the Celestial leader gave a signal. A curtain fell in the center of the hall, revealing the head of a giant bear mounted as a macabre trophy.
Ethan’s heart skipped a beat. It was the Northern Guardian, the being who had helped him face Boris. If he was dead... what had happened to Kira, the girl who had left under his protection?
"Ladies and gentlemen," the Celestial leader said with a smug smile, looking directly at Ethan. "This is a rare delicacy. We hunted this spiritual beast on the northern borders. It was a difficult specimen to bring down, gifted with almost human intelligence... it even seemed to be protecting something, or someone, with a touching loyalty. We attempted to capture the little ’cub’ accompanying it, but she fled into the shadows. A pity."
Ethan felt his blood boil. The leader’s speech was a direct attack, a veiled mockery of his past alliances.
"Enjoy its flesh," the leader continued, his voice dripping with venom. "At the end of the night, we will auction the most valuable parts: its heart for longevity, its brain for perception, its liver, and of course, its member for virility. Each part is a medicinal treasure beyond compare."
Ethan’s jaw tightened. The Celestial leader wasn’t just celebrating an execution; he was devouring Ethan’s friends in front of him, daring him to lose control.
The atmosphere at the high table turned frigid as Ethan slowly pushed his plate away, the silver cutlery clinking softly against the fine china. His expression remained a mask of marble, but his amethyst eyes hummed with a suppressed, violet glow.
The Leader of Celestial watched him out of the corner of his eye. Seeing no explosive reaction, he maintained a thin, oily smile. The fish hadn’t bitten the hook yet... but that didn’t mean it wouldn’t. He was patient; he knew that seeing a companion served as a main course was a wound that would eventually fester.
The Matriarch leaned in slightly, her voice a silken thread only Ethan could hear. "Is something wrong?"
"Those are the remains of a friend," said Ethan, his voice devoid of emotion, yet carrying the weight of a death sentence. "It seems they are exerting themselves quite heavily to make me lose my temper."
Without a word of hesitation, the Matriarch reached out and pushed her own plate forward, mirroring Ethan’s gesture perfectly. She didn’t care about the "spiritual benefits" of the meat; her allegiance was a sharp, public blade.
This silent display of solidarity caused the Union Deacon to raise an eyebrow. He knew the Matriarch’s character well—she was a woman who moved only for her own interests and the glory of the Blackwood name. What is so special about this boy? he wondered. Why is she so willing to declare her stance so openly for him?
The Deacon realized with a sinking feeling that there was a massive void in their intelligence reports. Ethan wasn’t just a rising power in the West; he was the pivot point for the most dangerous woman in the room.
"It seems the appetite in Royal is as refined as its reputation," said the Celestial Leader, his voice echoing through the silent hall. "A pity. Such power should not go to waste."
"Power is never wasted," said Ethan, finally looking the Leader in the eye. "It is simply stored until the moment it needs to be unleashed."
The two men locked eyes, a silent declaration of war passing between them over the head of the fallen Guardian. The banquet had barely begun, and already the scent of blood was overpowering the aroma of the feast.