NOVEL NEXT 181- The Two Events of the Gala Dinner. Part 2.
Besides, Karina is triumphant. Her table is closest to the royal family's and Sol looks at her with a hatred that eclipses what she usually shows me. The blonde seems like a flower blooming under that attention from her rival. In her place, however, I'd be annoyed at not being left in peace; I have to admit Karina is smarter.
I hope not smarter for real in the sense of higher intelligence. I'm still somewhat sensitive because after arriving in this world with an intelligence of 3—which would be average for a commoner—no matter how much I've raised it, the pup still beats me.
If I had him here, I'd give him a cuddle right now. I miss him. I've gotten used to always carrying him with me and he stayed in the room.
But anyway, in this hall there are more envious looks, like those from Ashe and Caroline. Or thoughtful and analytical ones, like those I see at Theodore's table directed toward the other end of the hall. Because Mary has no less than high affinity for light and got a privileged position in the trials, but she's also a commoner. Like her parents, who are sitting there and don't know how to avoid drawing attention to the fact that, although they're wearing the clothes Mary bought them, they're very lost at a gala dinner and lack the refined education in manners that nobility receives. I even catch a vexed look from Theodore, because his partner won't stop looking toward Ronan's table.
Darius is relatively close to me. He's a count's son, like me, so the table they set up for his family is very close. He came with his father and mother. The father clearly has fire affinity, but she seems meek, even somewhat sad.
At Alistair's table there's a young girl. She doesn't seem more than fifteen; she's probably his sister. She's staring dreamily at Theodore when she thinks no one's looking at her.
Oh my God. I just realized Damien is here, with his father. Oh, and close to Ronan's table. And his father is looking at Ronan a lot. I hope he doesn't try to say something to him about his son's "accident," because I don't know how my friend would take it.
Finally, before finishing my scan of the entire hall and relaxing a bit, I see Judith is alone with her parents at a table. I wave at her. Awkwardly, she waves back.
"Who is that, some friend?" my mother asks me, naturally.
"My roommate, Judith Illén."
"You barely interact with her, but you've befriended the prince's group. I'm happy you're listening to me."
Marco looks at her with a frown. I'm not continuing this conversation. I have nothing to gain from an argument with Bianca's mother, especially with Marco present.
Fortunately, my father diverts the topic by saying Judith seems like a good girl.
"Yes, she's very responsible and studious. We get along very well."
"But you're not friends?" Marco asks me.
"Well... no."
Not in the sense that we don't go out together for tea or dungeon crawling.
Plus, I'm totally speechless. His question seems to have an implicit "why" and, honestly, I have no idea why not.
When I met her, I felt relieved that the girl was quiet and didn't bother me. Living together would have been horrible with one of those young women who never stop talking. So I focused the first two months on my studies, ignoring everyone, her included. And since Judith seemed to do the same, there was no problem. Then, when I was brought into Vincent's group, dragging Ronan with me, I went along with it without question. I didn't think about Judith; if she was fine being alone, then I left her in peace.
I like being alone.
But damn, what if she doesn't?
"I'll try to spend more time with her," I hurry to say, feeling guilty.
It had never occurred to me that the girl might be looking for friends.
"Nonsense," my mother intervenes and brings up the subject of the trials.
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A topic I try to downplay and that Marco listens to very attentively. It looks like he gets along well with my parents, especially with the count.
Ugh, this dinner is dragging on forever.
We're on dessert—delicious cakes of different flavors—when the first event happens. I don't know if there's some assistant teacher or servant running through the hallway to warn us. With all the conversations echoing through the hall, I certainly can't hear anything else. At least nothing until the master of ceremonies, who had remained outside the great hall, opens the door and approaches the royal table, greeting them with a bow.
My father, who had been praising Marco—Marco had just told us how he'd negotiated with a count to irrigate his lands—falls silent immediately, leaving his sentence unfinished.
"Your Highnesses," the master of ceremonies says, addressing them, "a representative of the divine beast of light has come, accompanied by a translator. He requests an audience."
We can all see the surprise pass between the king and queen as they exchange glances. The hall begins to buzz with whispers. I look around. Students, parents, and other family members alike are whispering among themselves. I understand, this isn't something that usually happens or that anyone expected.
Well, I did.
But only because of the otome game.
Either way, I don't care. This was just a warning event that helped the protagonist and her friends prepare better to fight evil between social gatherings.
"Show them in," the king finally orders, and the entire hall falls silent.
The master of ceremonies withdraws to the threshold, where he strikes the floor with his staff and announces:
"The white wolf of the southern forests, representative of the divine beast of light, and his companion Eron Lalk, hunter."
As a wolf the size of a large dog—whose head I estimate would reach my chest—enters alongside a human dressed in pants and a shirt that are clean but more suited for a village than a banquet hall, I narrow my eyes. I want to check their levels.
White wolf, level 7.
Eron Lalk, level 3.
By the way, the wolf doesn't have the pristine white fur of snow wolves, nor the pretty light blue eyes you'd expect. There are some brownish patches on his paws and his eyes are also brown. As for that hunter—he must have ventured into some novice dungeon at some point or encountered some creature that had escaped from a dungeon, otherwise he wouldn't be above level 1.
The wolf, advancing slowly, stops a couple of meters from the monarchs' table. He doesn't bow his head or show any sign of respect. The hunter does.
"Please proceed, what do you wish to tell us?" the king says.
The wolf makes no sound. A few seconds pass, and then the hunter speaks:
"Your Majesty, the divine beast of light wishes to warn you that a new demon king is rising."
The hall fills with hushed feminine exclamations and some masculine curses. The king raises his hand and everyone falls silent.
"There have been no demon kings since the last war—the one after which both battles between kingdoms and the worshipping of the goddess of those who sent you were forbidden."
"There haven't been any because we have eliminated them before they could grow strong. However, one has managed to escape and we cannot locate him. He is still weak and easy to kill, but he is growing stronger. The divine beast requests your help, as well as that of other kingdoms, to alert us if you find him."
"And how can we identify him?" the queen asks. "Does he have horns?"
"He—or she—is darkness. You will recognize him by that."
I notice how some heads turn toward Ronan. Seriously? Are we still discriminating based on—as Mary put it—the color of magic?
Poor Ronan. In the otome game, fair enough: he was actually a possible final boss. But here he's a sweetheart.
"Should we also prepare to fight him?" the king asks.
Here the hunter waits a few seconds before answering. He must have some mental link with the white wolf.
"You do not have sufficient power to ensure success in eliminating him while preventing his escape. Remember that darkness is cunning and slippery. If you see him, alert us. Send a messenger bird to this hunter."
"Agreed. Colonel, see to posting a messenger in his village," the king says, turning to him.
"Yes, Your Majesty."
Magical air messages—they can be sent from cities where there are messengers. These are mages who use air magic to create something like a bird that receives the message, arrives at its destination within minutes, and reproduces the message upon arrival. However, if the recipient isn't a communication mage, a messenger, they can't delay the delivery or repeat it—the message simply plays and the bird vanishes.
The white wolf and the hunter leave, and everyone looks toward the royals, expectant.
"There's no need to worry," the queen speaks to the hall. "He's still gaining power—it's simply a matter of staying alert. Throughout your lands, spread the word, and if anyone finds him, have them notify you."
Something curious—Damien's father seems ecstatic, as if he'd just received wonderful news he'd been eagerly awaiting. Given that he also has darkness magic, normally he'd be worried about a witch hunt erupting and himself being accused.
One of the high-ranking nobles, possibly Theodore's mother, asks in a calm voice:
"And how will we identify him?"
"I imagine we'll be able to see his darkness. There are many members of this kingdom's nobility who have affinity for darkness. I am perfectly aware that such vague instructions could trigger an unjust persecution. Therefore, we will look for more than just magical affinity, however strong it may be."
The colonel is staring at Ronan shamelessly; the rector looks on with concern.
Well then, I was wrong. I might have to worry about this event after all, because if they try to lynch Ronan, I will definitely defend him.