A dwarf with long white hair, tied into two braids secured by a golden clasp, a thick beard, and piercing gray eyes approached us. Golden earrings adorned his ears, and he wore a luxurious black overcoat with purple accents and several golden cords. His expression was gruff.
"Lady Lesley, it's always a pleasure for these old eyes to behold such beauty!" he said, his tone laced with ironic formality.
"Hoo... Baldur, what a surprise to see you at this banquet," Lesley replied with a gentle smile. "I hope you're enjoying yourself."
"Grr... Haven't had much luck lately. We drew straws to decide who'd come, and here I am," the dwarf admitted, visibly unmotivated.
"Regardless, this is Glenn. Glenn, this is Baldur, Grand-Lord Ragg's strategist."
"Pleasure to meet you, Lord Baldur!" I greeted politely.
"Grr... I'm too old to be mingling with youngsters who still smell like milk. Look at this one—no wings yet, and already causing a stir across the world."
"Hahaha..." Lesley laughed genuinely at the dwarf's barrage of complaints.
"See here, Lady Lesley, the Grand-Lord sent me to lick the aristocracy's boots, forge new trade ties, and do some celebrating. So, I've already spent all my social energy on these soft-spoken fools!"
"Ahahaha..." Lesley nearly lost her breath laughing.
"And you, boy. Isaac did fine work on that Nexus you're wearing. Mind letting me take a look?"
"Hoo..." Surprised that Baldur knew the imperial forge master, I obliged. "Of course," I said, extending a hand.
"Impressive. That damn fool really learned well from the dew-drinkers," he admitted.
"Dew-drinkers?" I whispered to Lesley.
"Elves!"
"Haa..."
"Well then, boy. Are you some lucky son or destiny's favorite? How in the blazes were you born with the same affinities as that monstrosity? And with even more latent talent to boot? What kind of ritual would I need to perform to get a son with those 'factory settings'?"
"Ahahaha..." I laughed, genuinely amused by the dwarf's unfiltered rant. "Sorry, sir, I've no idea how something like that happens."
"Grrr... If you did, I'm sure everyone here would be clawing at each other to lock you up and extract your secrets."
"Haan... I suppose so, but I hope not!"
"Hahaha... Don't be a coward, scrawny brat. With those three freaks here, it'd take an entire army to drag you out of this room."
'Three? Selene, Elian, and Lesley?' I glanced sideways at Lesley, who seemed perfectly at ease in the conversation.
"Baldur, ever the charmer. I don't understand why Ragg doesn't send you on more diplomatic missions."
"Hooo... Don't test my patience, lass. You know damn well Brokkr should've been here, but that fool's off on a trade trip."
"What about Brokkr's sons? I thought I'd see some of the new generation walking these halls."
"All in the underground quarry. Apparently, Brokkr's youngest were sneering at the miners."
"So, they're on a 'back-to-basics' mining stint?" Lesley asked.
"The dwarf's ugly, but he's a good father. Ahahahah..." Baldur laughed heartily.
Honestly, I was starting to think demons were the most normal race on this planet after dealing with these eccentric diplomats. And with each interaction, my suspicions seemed confirmed.
"Well, I'll leave you and the boy in peace. Everyone's seen me here now—chatting animatedly, smiling, using nicknames like we're old friends. My job's done."
'What? All of that was just theater for the others?'
"Boy, take this." Baldur handed me a small golden key. "It's a pass to the depths of Karak. Before you lot try to destroy our mountain again, we're offering you a peace visit."
"Thank you, Lord Baldur," I said, accepting the key. "But destroy your mountain? What do you mean?"
"Well, ask that monster you call master. Farewell." With that, he strode off toward some of the twelve noble demon families who had interacted with Selene.
"Destroy a mountain?" I asked Lesley, still incredulous.
"Haa... Must've been something Elian did. Ask him later—it's a good story."
"I don't even know what to say!"
However, my questions about the dwarves were cut short when a storm of chaos erupted nearby.
"This wasn't our agreement! How dare a blessed one dress so vulgarly? You promised you'd behave, Athena!" scolded a stern-looking woman in her fifties. She wore a red cloak embroidered with gold over traditional nun's garments. Her hair and eyes were sun-gold, and faint wrinkles lined her face.
"I'd rather die than wear those funeral rags you sent me. First thing I did was toss them in the trash!" retorted a young woman in a black dress with purple accents—thin straps and a plunging neckline that revealed her back. Her curvaceous hips were accentuated by the dress, but what stood out most were her vivid purple eyes and hair.
"I knew I shouldn't have trusted you, Athena! How long will you dishonor our traditions with your fragile, unnecessary ego?"
"You can't force me to follow dogmas I don't believe in just because I'm blessed. If anything, it proves our deity doesn't care how I dress!"
"Watch your tongue before I drag you by the hair like last time. Final warning!" the older woman snapped.
Lesley and I, standing nearby, were stunned by the clash. Two women with completely opposing personalities represented the humans at the banquet—one a dignified, controlled elder, the other a rebellious, wild youth.
"I greet the Cardinal of Transformation," Lesley interjected, trying to diffuse the tension.
Both women, remembering where they were, composed themselves and approached us.
"Lady Lesley, shining bright as the stars, as always!" the elder praised. "And please, 'Cardinal Angela' will suffice."
"Of course, Cardinal. I'm surprised to see you here," Lesley said respectfully.
"Well, it's good to stretch my legs now and then, especially when escorting those who'll shine in this generation," she replied, gesturing to the young woman beside her.
The purple-haired girl crossed her arms, pouting silently. Her daring neckline and defiant posture only made her more striking.
Gently, Cardinal Angela nudged her forward, forcing her to introduce herself.
"I'm Athena!" she grumbled.
"Athena!" Angela corrected sternly.
"Phew... Lady Lesley, Young Master Glenn, it's a pleasure to meet you. I'm Athena Varen, and I'm so happy to attend this lovely banquet," she said, bowing exaggeratedly—flaunting her cleavage further. Her words dripped with sarcasm, as if reciting a rehearsed line.
Cardinal Angela arched a brow. So did Lesley and I. But we responded politely, as usual.
"The pleasure is ours. I'm Glenn, and we're honored by your presence!" I said courteously.
My well-mannered reply shattered both women's expectations. Angela smiled faintly, charmed, while Athena finally looked at me with interest.
Our eyes met—my golden ones locking onto her deep purple—and a strange sensation coursed through me. Magnetic, resonant, as if there were some inexplicable connection between us.
Athena seemed to feel it too. Her cheeks tinted slightly, and her rebellious posture gave way to genuine curiosity.
"Do I know you from somewhere?" she asked.
"I don't think so, but you seem... familiar," I replied, maintaining decorum.
"I feel the same. Like we've met before. Are you sure we haven't?"
'Did this world's Glenn know her?' I searched for memories that didn't exist.
"Pretty sure we haven't."
"Lady Athena, it's a pleasure to have you with us. I don't recall hearing of you taking on diplomatic roles before," Lesley remarked, eyebrow raised.
"Well, if the priests and cardinals weren't such prudes—"
"Athena!!" Angela cut her off.
"Athena has a strong personality, better suited to other duties," Angela explained with a strained smile.
"Grr..." Athena muttered.
"We brought her today to expose her to high society and geniuses of her generation. She's in training."
"Training... Grr..."
"Young Master Glenn, I must say your performance was magnificent. We wish you a prosperous future."
"Funny, you've never praised me like that!" Athena interjected.
"Athena!" Angela's eyes flashed with irritation. Another war was about to break out between them.
But everything was interrupted by a deafening.
"BOOM!"
The banquet hall doors burst open violently, and an overwhelming aura flooded the room—like an untamed beast had entered.
"BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!"
Every guest flinched. Some youths crushed their glasses involuntarily. Others spat blood or collapsed unconscious.
"I SHALL INTRODUCE MYSELF! KARGATH STONEFIST, ORC WARLORD, HAS ARRIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIVED!"
A thunderous voice shook the hall, silencing even the musicians. All high-ranking members turned toward the figure striding in, but no one moved.
Selene, seated on her throne, merely arched a brow at the orc's grand entrance before offering an apathetic smile.
Kargath scanned the room, as if searching for someone, until his gaze landed on me. A sinister gleam lit his eyes, and a manic grin split his sharp teeth.
'What the hell is happening now?' I thought, a chill running down my spine.