Across the room, several other foreign guests now looked pale. One even fled.
The Spiremaster nodded slightly and said, "Now that the trash has removed itself, let us begin the real banquet. You may all mingle freely."
With a wave of his hand, two long platforms appeared, laden with exquisite food and drink. Round tables materialized across the hall, each carved of rare stone and set with crystalline goblets. There were also musicians—masked men and women with strange instruments that sang with etherial tones—who began to play a graceful, haunting melody.
Dancers moved like silver flames across the floor, twirling and shifting between the guests. Now, the hall truly began to resemble a noble banquet—opulent, mysterious, and thick with unspoken power.
The atmosphere gradually shifted from tense formality to cultured elegance. With the danger dismissed and the Spiremaster's blessing granted, the foreign guests began to move about the banquet hall. Murmurs of curiosity and veiled ambition filled the air as people began to mingle.
Crystal goblets clinked. Silver trays floated gracefully between the guests, carried by arcane servants formed of mist and light. Rich aromas drifted in the air—spiced phoenix meat, emberwine-aged fruits, cloud-braised spirit fish, and a deep violet liquor that shimmered in the goblet like it held starlight itself.
Asher stood near a curved stone table carved with runes of the Ancient Tongue, Valeris on one side, Veyra on the other. Several figures approached—elegant, poised, and powerful.
Asher nodded politely. "Asher. Just here to meet others, see the world a bit."
Lior raised a brow, offering a small smile. "Lior, from the Celestial Sea Tribe. It's good to meet fellow World Rankers outside of battlefields and training grounds."
A soft chuckle came from nearby as a woman with pale violet hair and shadow-like movements stepped closer. "Shae-Luren. Nightmire Coven. I came for the company more than anything else—it's rare to gather with those who've reached the same tier."
Valeris inclined her head. "Valeris. Just tagging along, honestly. Seeing who's around."
Shae-Luren grinned. "Fair enough. These things always start slow. Lots of introductions, small talk, awkward stares."
From across the room, a man dressed in layers of leafy bark and moss joined them with a quiet step. "Vaen. Verdant Circle. I'm here to see the city… and meet people, of course. It's not every day a place opens its doors."
Veyra looked at him curiously. "You don't sound like a fighter."
Vaen laughed gently. "Not all of us are. I grow things. Heal things. Occasionally, I stop things from falling apart."
She blinked, unsure whether he was joking or serious.
All around the banquet hall, other groups were mingling too. People chatted in pairs and clusters, swapping names, backgrounds, and stories. A few joked about past battles, near-death experiences, or ridiculous training accidents.
There were guests from the Burning Moon Conclave, the Mirrorfolk who mimicked the faces around them in a strange but harmless way, and even a quiet emissary from the Hollow Sanctuary who mostly nodded and listened.
"I didn't expect this to feel so normal," Veyra whispered as she sipped her drink. "They're just… people."
Valeris nodded. "They are. Strong ones. But still people."
Nearby, a scholar from the Umbral Dynasty discussed cultivation shortcuts with a bald monk from the Stellar Vault Sect. Another pair laughed over old rivalry matches that ended in draws.
The banquet had taken on the atmosphere of a large reunion or a high-tier meet-and-greet. No grand declarations. No threats or tension. Just a gathering of elites who were curious about each other.
Asher leaned against the table and observed. No one here was trying to prove anything. They'd already done that, simply by being invited.
The hall slowly shifted in tone as the food and drink began to settle. Soft music, carried by unseen instruments, wafted through the air like a gentle breeze. At the far side of the room, the polished floor shimmered slightly, indicating the start of the evening's dance.
A few of the guests began to move—hesitant at first, then with growing ease. Robes swirled, blades were sheathed, and laughter replaced posture.
"Looks like they're starting," Veyra murmured as she watched a pair of Mirrorfolk glide across the floor, their movements synchronized in eerie harmony, each mimicking the other's reflection.
Valeris glanced sideways. "Not really my thing."
Asher smirked. "But you've danced before."
"Once," she said dryly. "When I had to, at some stiff Empire banquet. Ended with a duel."
Veyra giggled. "Sounds fun."
At that moment, Lior approached and gave a casual bow. "Lady Valeris, would you care to dance?"
Valeris blinked. "You're serious?"
Lior smiled warmly. "Of course. The steps are easy. And I promise not to challenge you to a duel afterward."
Valeris looked at Asher, who raised an eyebrow in mock challenge. With a tiny sigh and a resigned smirk, she placed her hand in Lior's. "Alright. One dance. Just one."
They stepped onto the floor as the melody shifted into a flowing, graceful rhythm. Lior moved smoothly, clearly well-trained in formal dances, and Valeris followed with natural elegance, her crimson gown rippling like blood silk under the chandelier's glow.
Shae-Luren turned to Asher. "Your turn."
Asher blinked. "Excuse me?"
"I saw the way you watched her. You can't let the other guy steal all the charm points."
He chuckled softly. "Alright, you win." He offered her his hand, and they joined the others.
Veyra stood alone for a moment, watching the movements, when Vaen stepped up beside her.
"You dance?" he asked gently.
"Good," he smiled. "Then no expectations."
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He held out a moss-wrapped hand, and after a pause, Veyra took it.
They moved onto the floor as more pairs followed, and soon the hall was filled with graceful motion. Some danced with perfect discipline. Others swayed with improvisation. A pair from the Stellar Vault Sect spun like twin stars. A Mirrorfolk danced alone, reflecting their imagined partner in ghostly shimmer.
It was a moment of peace. No battles. No cultivation. Just light, music, and the rare sense of being part of something human.
Even the Spiremaster watched from his raised dais, smiling faintly, a goblet in his hand.
Asher turned with Shae-Luren, her movements light as smoke. "Not bad," she teased.
"You're not either," he replied, spinning her once.