Villanelle followed the Academy team, undergoing a final, comprehensive magical inspection by black-robed court mages before stepping through the 10-meter-high gilded doors.
The moment she saw the scene inside, a vast ocean of light nearly overwhelmed her senses.
The light was everywhere.
Hundreds of massive crystal chandeliers hung beneath the hall’s vaulted ceiling, every prism refracting light to illuminate every corner, driven by precise mana. The embedded rune arrays on the walls shimmered with golden light, and the countless gemstones and magical fabrics on the nobles’ robes carried their own halos.
On the long tables in the center of the hall, mountains of gold and silver vessels and crystal cups mirrored one another, as the light from the Magic Guide Lamps reflected and blended between them.
The air temperature was nearly constant, filled with the scents of high-end spices, winter fruits, roasted meats, and mellow wine. Expensive magical incense was mixed in, subtle and hard to detect.
‘Golden Oak Hall really lives up to its name; it’s gold everywhere and blindingly bright,’ Villanelle thought to herself.
The students’ seats were arranged at a long table toward the back of the hall, situated between the families of high-ranking nobles and middle-level bureaucrats.
Villanelle’s position was still at the very end, right next to the side door that led the servants to the kitchen. From here, she could feel the faint draft of food steam occasionally leaking through the door gap, and she could also take in the view of almost the entire hall.
On the high platform at the inner end of the hall, the Emperor’s throne was covered in deep purple velvet, but it was currently empty.
The Regent sat in the center below the throne, flanked by the princes, senior members of the Imperial Cabinet, and high-ranking officials of the Church.
First Prince Caesar sat to the Regent’s left, whispering something to the nearby Finance Minister. the Second Prince, Claudius, seemed a bit distracted, his gaze occasionally drifting toward the side hall where his Silver Dragon was likely stationed.
Roderick sat alone in a seat somewhat on the edge of the royal row. His back was straight, and his deep gray eyes scanned the room without a hint of emotion, maintaining an invisible distance from the surrounding luxury and restlessness.
The Shield of the Firmament guards were naturally not inside the hall, but he himself was as cold and sharp as his guard unit.
To the front right of the platform were the seats for foreign envoys, which were now filled with messengers of different races—Elves, Dwarves… and several humans?
Villanelle’s gaze landed on the humans dressed in deep blue military uniforms, her face clouding with confusion.
‘Are there other human nations on the continent besides Saint Tiriel?’
She quietly observed the reactions of other nobles and quickly noticed that most of the looks directed at them carried… disgust.
Villanelle stared intently for a moment, only looking away when one of the people sitting there glanced back in her direction.
The banquet could not begin immediately; a series of tedious court etiquette procedures had to be completed first.
Once everyone in Golden Oak Hall had quieted down, the chamberlain began to chant a long, rhythmic benediction, praying for blessings from the ancestors and the Holy Light.
Villanelle stared absentmindedly at the cutlery on the table in front of her, calculating what she would eat once the feast began.
The benediction was short, ending after a few minutes. Then came the presentation of gifts from the envoys, proceeding in the order loudly announced by the master of ceremonies.
The Elven envoy was the first to leave her seat. The several Elves were all tall and elegant without exception, dressed in uniform pale gold robes. Their faces were beautiful, nearly making it impossible to distinguish between male and female.
The envoy walked slowly to the front of the platform and bowed slightly. A servant behind her held up a box decorated with mithril and emerald leaves.
“In the name of Athlon, we congratulate the Saint Tiriel Empire on the joy of Winter Veil.”
She signaled the servant to open the box. Inside lay not gold or silver jewelry, but a branch about the thickness of a forearm, appearing as if carved from emerald and white jade, emitting a soft and warm glow.
“This is a Resonance Branch from the Ancestor Tree, Irasil,” the Elven envoy said unhurriedly, her voice reaching everyone’s ears clearly. “Placing it in a dwelling helps to purify filth, calm the mind, and restore vitality to ordinary plants.”
An attendant stepped forward and took the box with both hands.
Whispers broke out in the surroundings, with low-pitched murmurs of admiration floating through the air from time to time.
Pope Clement III’s expression did not change, but Father Malevorn’s eyes narrowed slightly as he exchanged a look with several other high-ranking Church officials.
The power of the Elven Ancestor Tree was fundamentally different from the pure essence of the Holy Light, yet they were somewhat similar in effect. Did sending this gift imply the Elves thought the Empire was not clean enough?
The Regent wore a perfect smile. “Our thanks for Athlon’s generous gift. May this branch become a bond of peace and understanding between our two nations.”
Villanelle noticed that as the Elven envoy returned to her seat, her gaze briefly crossed with Roderick’s.
Next was the Dwarven envoy. He was stout, with a beard braided into complex patterns and decorated with golden rings, wearing simple Dwarven formal attire. He carried a long wooden box to the front of the platform, his voice booming like a bell.
“In the name of the Mountain King and the Council of Elders of Ironforge, I pay my respects to the Empire!”
The Dwarven envoy opened the box, revealing a crudely shaped two-handed battle axe with dark red light flowing slowly along its rune lines.
“This is the ‘Mountain Forging Flame Axe,’ tempered with volcanic flame crystals using my tribe’s latest forging techniques. It is now gifted to the Saint Tiriel Empire. May its blade always point toward the Empire’s enemies!”
His words were blunt. He looked intensely at the Regent, then glanced over the princes, lingering a bit longer on Roderick.
“Also, may the Empire not forget our past alliance. Secure our tribe’s trade routes so that the treasures of the mountains and the grain of the plains can be exchanged smoothly!”
The expressions of several nobles in the audience shifted.
The Eastern March was currently unstable, which indeed affected trade with the Dwarves.
The Regent maintained his polite smile and steady voice. “The envoy speaks truly. The Empire has always valued its friendship with the Dwarven Kingdom and will naturally ensure the trade routes remain open.”
The Dwarven envoy grinned, bowed in thanks, handed the axe to an attendant, and retreated to his seat.
Then, the master of ceremonies loudly announced the name and race of the next envoy:
“Third, from the Deep Tide Court, Chief Tidewhisperer, Serena.”
Many people, including Villanelle, widened their eyes.
A side door of the hall opened, and a fresh, moist sea breeze carrying a strange floral scent rushed in.
Serena, the mermaid, was suspended in a magic water sphere about 2 meters in diameter. She glided gracefully into the hall without leaving a single water stain on the floor. The light refracted through the water sphere, casting a misty halo around her.
Behind her were two other merman guards, also suspended in water spheres, each holding a box made of hollowed-out sapphires.
This extraordinary scene instantly captured everyone’s attention.
Serena moved to the front of the platform and bowed slightly within the water sphere, performing a mermaid salute with a wavy rhythm. Her voice was ethereal, carrying a certain resonance that entered directly into everyone’s minds.
“In the names of the Twin Kings of Naggaroth and the Boundless Sea, may the tides bring abundance and tranquility to Saint Tiriel.”
Unlike the scale-covered faces of the merman guards, her face was exquisite and almost no different from a human’s.
Villanelle looked at Serena’s water sphere in wonder.
‘Is that how merfolk move on land? How will they sit down? Will the boxes they’re holding get wet?’
The merman guards opened the boxes. The interiors were lined with deep-sea velvet cushions, upon which lay three Hearts of the Tide and a roll of Sea Silk.