As the n finished getting ready, chatter filled the room. But all conversation stopped abruptly when they heard footsteps approaching.
The door creaked open, and Maria's voice rang out. "Boys, we're ready! Prepare to be amazed!"
Zack glanced at the others nervously. "Should we… brace ourselves?"
Before anyone could answer, the won entered the room, their gowns catching the light with every step.
June wore a flowing erald dress that matched her sharp eyes, exuding both elegance and a hint of intimidation.
Maria's gown was a deep crimson, adorned with subtle gold accents. She twirled dramatically, clearly enjoying the attention.
Carn had opted for a soft lavender dress that radiated a gentle charm of her shyness, while Lei's pale blue gown gave her an ethereal quality.
Carole, in a simple yet graceful white dress, looked like she belonged in a fairy tale.
The n stared, speechless.
"Well?" Maria asked, placing a hand on her hip. "We're waiting for complints."
Evan, ever the bold one, was the first to recover. "You all look… uh… not bad!"
"Not bad?" Maria echoed, feigning offense. "Sigh... You are still a kid! You should praise grandly. We spent hours on this!"
"Let rephrase," Evan said, holding up his hands defensively. "You all look stunning. Like, 'Wow, I should stand farther away because you're out of my league' stunning."
Arlon, anwhile, remained silent.
June raised an eyebrow. "What about you, Arlon? Cat got your tongue?"
He crossed his arms. He was shocked that she understood it was him at a glance. But then, his expression turned neutral. "You look fine. Let's go."
He wondered why didn't they react more to him takin off his mask. But he didn't give much reaction to them either, so he didn't think much.
Maria smirked. "Don't let the excitent overwhelm you."
"I'm saving it for the banquet," Arlon deadpanned, heading for the door.
As they exited the changing room and made their way toward the banquet hall, Evan leaned toward Zack and whispered, "Do you think Arlon's secretly blushing?"
"Definitely," Zack replied with a mischievous grin.
They weren't entirely wrong.
Arlon, ever the composed figure, found himself quietly taken aback. June had always struck him as the most beautiful among the group—not that he'd ever admit it aloud.
But today was different.
Normally, she dressed for practicality and survival, her appearance secondary to the realities of Trion. Yet, seeing her now, adorned in an elegant erald gown that seed to shimr with every step, her beauty felt... amplified.
Arlon was affected. There was no denying that.
This didn't an anything, though... Probably...
As the group approached the grand hall, its towering doors etched with intricate designs, Arlon took a deep breath. He needed to refocus.
It's just a banquet, he reminded himself. Get through it, and everything goes back to normal.
---
The banquet hall was a sight to behold, filled with Trionians from every race.
Beastn with their imposing physiques mingled with the Maguses, whose elegant robes glimred faintly with residual magic.
Sprinkled among them were a few other races, each adding their unique flair to the gathering, though it was clear that the Maguses and Beastn dominated the crowd.
The higher-ups of the Magus Council were seated prominently, their expressions a mix of pride and calculated diplomacy.
Among them were Asmond and Ejen, their powerful auras making them hard to miss.
The heads of various organizations, clad in distinct attire denoting their ranks, chatted in hushed tones, their eyes frequently scanning the room.
Lady Rael, poised and radiant as always, occupied a place among the administrators, her calm deanor masking her ever-watchful nature.
Everyone, man and woman, was secretly looking at her. Most knew she wasn't blind, but so didn't and looked directly.
Lady Rael, probably just to have fun, smiled at the ones looking for a long ti, making it obvious that she could see.
One table stood conspicuously empty, a reserved space for the saviors and Arlon the guide.
It was positioned close enough to the action to signify importance but far enough to suggest their outsider status.
At the far end of the hall, Zephyrion's table stood apart. Elevated on a platform, it was a subtle but undeniable reminder of his authority.
Though it was just a table, the raised dais made it clear who commanded the room.
Arlon and his copy would be expected to join so of them on Zephyrion's table—a task he wasn't particularly looking forward to.
---
When the ti ca, everyone except Zephyrion, the copy, and the saviors were seated.
Zephyrion, as the ruler, would make his entrance last. The grand doors of the banquet hall creaked open dramatically, their ornate carvings catching the light.
The guards announced the saviors' entrance with a string of elaborate complints that made Arlon cringe inwardly.
Could they tone it down a bit? he thought, suppressing the urge to roll his eyes.
Still, he understood the necessity of it all. Every detail here had been ticulously planned by Zephyrion, each move calculated to achieve a political purpose.
Arlon wasn't arrogant enough to think he grasped all the intricacies.
Thankfully, they had been briefed beforehand about their roles—what to do, what to avoid, and how to keep from accidentally starting an incident.
The saviors entered in pairs. Arlon and June led the group, stepping into the room first. The copy followed with Maria, their deanor perfectly poised.
Behind them, the rest of the group filed in a random order. The arrangent wasn't just a coincidence; it sent a subtle ssage.
Trion recognized saviors with rit as valuable but did not elevate them above Trionians who had proven their worth.
The air in the room shifted as they moved toward their designated table, the weight of countless gazes settling on them.
Arlon could feel the scrutiny as keenly as if the spectators had drawn their blades.
Seated at their table, he made a ntal note to scan the faces of everyone present. These were the most influential individuals in Trion.
If they were all aligned with Trion's interests, Keldar's threat could be neutralized in a matter of months.
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But Arlon wasn't naïve. He knew better than to hope for such a clean slate. There's always soone with their own agenda, he thought grimly.
It wasn't just the potential villains that concerned him. So attendees might not be "bad" in the traditional sense, but their greed and self-interest could prove just as damaging.
For now, most eyes seed fixed on June and the other girls. While there was no discrimination between genders or races in Trion, strength was the ultimate currency.
This often ant n outnumbered won in positions of power, but the balance didn't erase admiration when beauty and strength combined.
Evan leaned over to Zack and whispered, "Do you think anyone's noticing us, or are we just props for the ladies?"
Zack smirked. "Props. Definitely props."
Arlon, overhearing them, kept his expression neutral but silently agreed. Despite the purpose of their presence, the saviors were as much part of the spectacle as the gilded chandeliers.
Still, as he watched the interplay of glances and subtle nods among the crowd, Arlon couldn't help but wonder what alliances were being forged—or broken—under the surface.
This is going to be a long day, he thought, gripping the edge of his chair as the heavy doors opened again. Zephyrion was about to make his entrance.
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