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Bright sunlight floods into the dining hall I remembered as plunged in impenetrable shadows. The smoke and darkness that once cloaked the room have long disappeared as the shutters that once sealed the windows have been opened, allowing the golden beams to stream in through the wide openings. Laughter rises in the air amidst the sound of drums and trumpets playing near the buffet. They drown out the creaking of the waxed parquet under the hurried steps of the demons adding dishes to the long tables in a seemingly endless procession. Steam rises from each plate, the thin ribbons of white smoke dancing in the light as their mouthwatering scents spread in the hall—roasted meat and a mixture of unknown herbs.
The room itself displays an overwhelming luxury previously hidden underneath the shadows of destruction reigning over the dungeon. Gilt paints the arched windows and woodwork covering the walls, and a fresco spreads on the ceiling from which hangs a broad golden chandelier. Large white sheets drape around the tables, their edges softly brushing the floor. At the extremity of the buffet soars a mountain of stemmed glasses shining in the golden beams. But it remains mainly untouched as most drinkers prefer gathering around an enormous barrel placed in a corner of the hall with glasses the size of a pint.
High orcs, elves and demons chug down their alcohol amidst cheers and laughter in a drinking contest under Eira's loose monitoring. She sits atop the barrel, her legs crossed and her fingers absentmindedly stroking Qibli's forehead as he rests his head on her lap, while Nalin distributes glasses filled to the rim. Cepheus passes his arm around the shoulders of a demon and presses a glass between their hands with a wide grin. But he is soon stopped in his momentum as Cassiopeia enters the hall with two buckets the size of her head and challenges him to settle the result of their previous race with alcohol. He replies to a roar, giving in to her taunt instantly.
Orion sighs deeply upon seeing the followers and demons cheer on the two contestants as Nalin lets the alcohol run into the buckets. He hasn't left my side since we entered the castle, his hand resting on the handle of his sword and his eyes attentively wandering on our surroundings as if waiting for an enemy to jump from under the tables.
"You can relax," I say, closing my fingers around the foot of what strangely resembles a champagne flute. I lift it to my eyes, watching the play of the beams in the crystal surface and the golden liquid. "This is a banquet, and the demons are allies. Didn't I tell you that life isn't only about fighting? I know you're used to the battlefields, but try to enjoy yourself—we won't get the chance to celebrate like this again."
He nods, releasing the handle of his sword as he lets his gaze drift over the hall once more, then stiffens once more. He tilts his head in a silent question upon turning back to me and watching me sip on the alcohol. It fizzes softly on the tongue. I let out a chuckle at his confused silence and grab another flute to present it to the knight.
"Here. Drink this and loosen up a little. I'm not asking you to join those idiots over there," I add, sticking my thumb out to the drunkards, "just let go, get some food, and relax. We've earned it."
His gauntlet clinks against the stem as he accepts the glass from my hand. I shoo him toward the buffet and turn back to the rest of my followers. Moon and the rest of the high orcs remain close to the buffet, wolfing down plates as soon as they arrive from the kitchen, and a few adult hyakki converse quietly with some demons near the windows. I expected to find Esil and Skadi among the drinking contestants, but it seems they stepped out of the dining hall. My gaze darts back toward Eira. Her eyes regularly snap toward the door, a mischievous glint playing in her pupils. I let out an amused huff and take another sip of my drink. It should be fine.
"Are you enjoying the banquet?" a deep voice asks.
I spin around to face its owner. Gray skin, a Van Dyke beard and mustache, black hair slicked back strewn with a few gray strands, and wrinkles at the corners of his eyes betraying his promptness to smiling—Esil's father stands beside me, the anxiousness he first displayed in front of Jin-Woo and me replaced by the assurance of a king.
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The all-knowing Player (Solo Leveling)
FanfictionHe stares at me from the side, his strong gaze adding weight to his words. He seems to want to add something else, but it doesn't come out. I direct my gaze towards the line of horizon hidden behind the unending hills of sand. We stay silent for a m...
