Episode 400
Chapter 119: The Banquet of the Sword Emperor’s Castle (5)
As Ron finished his greetings, the banquet officially began.
The imperial orchestra, sent directly by the emperor, entered playing music. Pleasant melodies filled the air, while fireworks exploded all around the hall, showering the room with a dazzling cascade of colorful petals.
The theatrical effects prepared by the Bimant Magic Troupe were equally impressive.
Flames, ice, and lightning—shaped by magic—decorated the interior like giant sheets of vibrant origami.
Among the Bimant clans, the banquet hosted by Hailan was especially popular.
Unlike the banquet in Runkandel, which was practically a battlefield for settling grudges and carried a tense atmosphere, or the stiff and dull gatherings in Ziphl, Hailan’s banquet truly lived up to its name—a lively and beautiful social event.
One by one, nobles waiting in the reception room began to enter the banquet hall.
Handsome young men and beautiful women, dressed to the nines, cast admiring glances at the renowned warriors present. To those born into noble families, these warriors were like stars in the sky—untouchable and awe-inspiring.
Among them, the brightest figure was none other than Dante Hailan, the host of the banquet.
At twenty-two, the young master of the Hailan branch was a rising star of Bimant—famous for his boyish good looks, impeccable manners, and noble character.
Countless men and women alike in Bimant longed to pledge themselves to Dante.
Every time Dante waved his hand, cheers erupted from the nobles.
Rumors circulated that this banquet was held by Lord Ron Hailan to find a match for his grandson.
Yet, Dante himself seemed interested only in Jin, accompanied by Veradin nearby. Rata, too, glared fiercely at Jin with a murderous intent.
“Hey, kid. At midnight, make sure you completely crush him. Teach him what happens when you cross paths with someone like you with bad intentions,” Gilly said, frowning with concern.
“Though he’s young and often underestimated, the Ghost Captain is one of the strongest mercenaries in the world. Along with Amela of the Gaipa Archipelago and the Black King Commander, he’s considered one of the top three mercenaries. Are you sure, young master?” Gilly’s words made the others tilt their heads in doubt.
“That kid just destroyed the Garden of Swords and left three Runkandel knights half-dead. What’s so special about that guy?”
“Though the Ghost Captain is called one of the top three mercenaries, his reputation doesn’t quite match Amela or the Black King Commander. I think Prince Jin will win without much trouble.”
“Besides, since the duel is held under Lord Ron’s supervision, even if the prince loses, he won’t lose his life. And with his name, even defeat won’t be a real loss. Of course, I also think the prince will win.”
Kashimir and Alisa agreed.
As Alisa said, for now, Ghost Captain Rata was more famous than Jin.
Jin’s recent victory over three knights was widely talked about, but it hadn’t yet become accepted as fact—it had been less than a month.
The way Dante, Veradin, and the other warriors fixed their gazes on Jin piqued the nobles’ curiosity.
“Is that Jin Runkandel?”
“That’s the same face from the posters. No need to glamorize it.”
“You should try that makeup too. Once you do, you’ll never want to use anything else.”
“Oh, look over there! Isn’t that Sir Syris Endorma of the Bimant? Looks like he’s heading toward Sir Jin!”
Next to approach Jin was Syris.
With his strikingly dyed golden and silver hair, the two standing face to face made the nobles flush with a strange excitement.
“Jin.”
“Syris, it’s been a while. I didn’t expect to see you at the banquet.”
“Glad to see you’re well.”
“Were you worried about me?”
Jin asked, surprised, and Syris nodded. The gesture caught Jin off guard—Syris treating him like someone close felt unfamiliar.
“The blood drop you used was kept by our Bimant.”
Jin and his companions had no idea. They only knew that the steward Heinz had brought it.
“I didn’t know. I should express my thanks. Did Lady Thalaris provide it?”
“…No. Sir Siron entrusted it to my mother long ago. Since my mother never told me, I always assumed it was Bimant’s property from the start.”
“I see.”
“And I heard Sir Siron hasn’t paid the price yet.”
“Whatever you wish, just say it. I will pay the price on behalf of my father.”
“Then dance with me.”
“Excuse me?”
“I think it’s time to let Ziphl know that Bimant is on friendly terms with you. And since the next head of Ziphl is watching, there’s no better way to send that message.”
Syris extended his hand.
It was a moment that left not only the nobles but even the warriors speechless.
The Syris Endorma they knew was not the type to show interest in others at a banquet.
“Very well. I accept with honor.”
Jin grasped his hand and stood, and some warriors nodded as if they had expected this.
Four years ago, at a Runkandel banquet, those who had ‘misunderstood’ the relationship between Jin and Syris had thought the same.
“There was a strange vibe between them even at the Runkandel Bridge Party.”
“I remember the four Runkandel knights lamenting the end of days when they saw the two’s bold closeness.”
“Maybe Runkandel wants to marry the twelfth knight to Bimant’s son-in-law. It’s not the right time to break the firmly established power of the second knight. Securing a strong ally like Bimant would be beneficial.”
“Either way, they make a good pair, don’t they?”
Of course, in reality, the two had only fought a duel in secret, a fact known only to their close companions.
Most middle-aged warriors smiled approvingly, while the younger generation struggled to suppress their rising anger and jealousy.
And two years ago, nobles who had visited the Bellado Principality’s gambling house felt a strange sense of déjà vu.
“Back then, Sir Jin Runkandel was going by the name Bamel. And that woman named Zelia at the gambling house—now that I think about it, she looks like Lady Syris Endorma…”
“Could it be that Jin Runkandel and Syris Endorma were active together even when Jin was a novice knight using an alias? Was Zelia at the gambling house actually Syris Endorma?”
As their thoughts drifted, Jin and Syris took to the stage and danced gracefully.
Their dance would soon be sung by bards across the continent.
Some painters were already capturing the scene, praising its beauty over and over.
“Heh, I’m jealous, Your Grace… I can’t even remember the last time I danced with a woman…”
“Dance with me!”
The lively voice belonged to Zephyrin.
She had once again slipped past Murka’s watchful eyes and approached Jin’s table.
“This is a blessing! Thank you, gods! Wonderful…!”
Just as Zephyrin happily responded, Quikantel pinched Murkan’s side.
It was a silent message: ‘Go and find out about Zephyrin.’
“Zephyrin, huh? I’ll play with her.”
“Oh! You remember my name! Shall we?”
“No, Murkan!? What are you doing!? Murkan? Hey?”
Murkan had already left to dance with Zephyrin.
Murka, having just spotted Zephyrin, sighed deeply and clenched his fists in frustration.
Zephyrin glared daggers at Murkan and Zephyrin’s retreating backs, until Gilly finally reached out to Zephyrin.
“Um, Zephyrin. If you don’t mind, I could join?”
“I’m honored, Strawberry Pie—no, Gilly!”
This time, Murkan shot a murderous glare at Zephyrin. Without witnesses, he might have torn her apart on the spot.
Zephyrin was simply grateful to be able to dance at such a grand banquet.
Kashimir and Alisa also stepped out to dance, as did Kuzan and Beris.
Only Quikantel and Enya remained at the table, quietly enjoying refreshments.
As if waiting for this moment, numerous warriors and nobles approached them, asking for dances.
Veradin attached himself to Enya, while Quikantel paired with Dante.
This unusual pairing became another source of entertainment for the guests.
Dante knew that Enya and Quikantel were unofficial fugitives of the empire.
That was why he deliberately showed closeness to them—to have the arrest orders lifted.
“Ah! I want to dance too!”
Meanwhile, watching the procession of dancers, one person sighed in regret.
Marjiela Ivliano. She, too, had come to the banquet as an Ivliano. Vishkel and the disguised Bubar stood by her side.
Vishkel’s expression was dark.
“Come on, brother, I’ve been in a wheelchair for a while now. No need to feel so sorry.”
“That’s right, Lord Vishkel. By the way, these croquettes are amazing… You’re close with the Hailan family, right? If possible, could you get me some once a week?”
As always, Bubar scratched at Vishkel’s already troubled heart, stirring up his temper.
“Shut up, Bubar.” Vishkel was too engulfed in sorrow even to snap back.
“Brother?”
“Margiela. I… it pains me to have to use you for something like this.”
Margiela smiled slyly.
“That’s exactly what I’m here for, brother.”
“But—”
“Don’t be so down about it. And Mr. Bouvard really should stop eating so many croquettes. You promised you’d slim down, remember?”
“Hahaha. Is that so? Miss Margiela.”
Night was falling.
The banquet was set to continue tomorrow, so usually by evening some guests would start to leave.
But not a single person had left the hall by midnight. Everyone was there to watch the duel between Jin and Lata.
Without anyone telling them to, as the clock struck twelve, the guests all took their seats again, waiting for Ron.
“Thank you all for your patience. The knights will now begin the escort. Please proceed to the dueling grounds.”