Later that night, the grand parlor of Eterna gleamed under countless lanterns. Nobles and dignitaries from every allied nation had gathered, each dressed in clothing that shimmered with wealth and taste. The air was thick with expectation, yet it hummed with civility, the kind that comes when influential figures meet under one roof.
Scanning the crowd, I noted the gender balance—slightly more men than women—but the trust placed in me was evident. Many had brought their wives and children, and among them, a blonde-haired girl caught my eye, delicate as a doll, her wide eyes flicking about in awe. Ages and titles spanned every decade; I understood immediately that this was more than a party—it was a stage.
The layout reflected my desire for freedom and elegance. Guests could wander at will, sampling foods from buffet tables while mingling. Curiosities unseen in any other nation were scattered throughout the hall, including a spacious tatami room covering half the area. Shoes were forbidden inside, a concept foreign to many of the visiting nations. Few dared enter, and those who did—like King Gazel—sat and experimented with the cushions, clearly amused by the novelty.
I joined King Gazel briefly, discussing the city's developments. "That rail system you've built—what purpose does it serve?" he asked, peering over the plans.
"I had planned to develop a system called a 'train.' I hope I may count on your expertise and support," I replied calmly.
"Oh-ho? How could I refuse?" King Gazel's grin was immediate and genuine. He understood the potential before him, and I could see that he would not be content to simply observe; he would be involved, fully.
Our discussion was interrupted by a familiar figure, Youm, who confidently strode up and took a seat facing me. King Gazel poured him a generous glass of wine without hesitation. Observers would note the sight of a king of a developing nation casually conversing with the king of a powerful empire—an unspoken testament to Youm's growing influence.
The conversation flowed smoothly after that. We exchanged ideas, strategies, and minor political insights. Gazel's subtle endorsement of me and Youm was clear: those watching would recognize the value of both our presences, raising our influence in future negotiations. I made a mental note of it—trust like this was rare and immensely valuable.
Elsewhere, guests explored the grand bathhouse. The hot springs were unlike anything many had ever seen. Their medicinal effects, guarded fiercely, drew questions and admiration alike. Those who emerged afterward often donned the yukatas we provided, their post-bath elegance perfectly blending tradition and luxury. They admired each other's attire, occasionally glancing my way, a mix of awe and curiosity on their faces.
I moved through the hall, seated myself in the place of honor, and allowed the room to take me in. Many were seeing me for the first time. A few paled upon realizing I was the Demon Lord, while others observed me intently, weighing every detail. The scrutiny was sharp, but expected. I responded with calm authority.
"Guests of Eterna," I began, my voice carrying over the chatter with unwavering clarity, "I am Atem, Sovereign of Eterna. Tonight is a night of celebration, not of politics. Enjoy our nation's finest cuisine and amusements. Let us set aside the burdens of the world, if only for this evening. Your presence honors me, and I trust the night will honor you in return. Let the festivities begin."
My words were deliberate. No flourish, no unnecessary verbosity—my authority alone carried the weight of command.
Waitresses moved at my silent command, trained to anticipate every need. Vesta had drilled them with meticulous precision, ensuring that each request would be fulfilled promptly. Every plate, every drink, every gesture spoke of our nation's commitment to excellence.
I called for a toast. Cold beer, a novelty for many who had never experienced properly chilled drinks, was raised by all. Even the elves, chosen voluntarily to serve, added elegance and poise. Their movements—kneeling gracefully, presenting drinks with three fingers to the floor—elicited admiration from nobles of every nation.
The sight was deliberate, a blending of cultures that was both beautiful and commanding. Yukata-clad elves roamed amidst formal attire, their subtle yet striking appearance drawing eyes and appreciation. It was a spectacle unique to Eterna—a statement of both power and culture.
Meanwhile, the food, painstakingly prepared by Shuna and Yoshida, filled the hall with rich aromas and visual delight. Smoked duck-chicken, assorted sandwiches, cow-deer steaks, marinated vegetables, karaage, roast beef salads—every dish represented a convergence of tradition, luxury, and careful planning. Desserts included fruit sherbets and recreations of dishes from past royal banquets, such as black tiger meat stew and grilled fairy-leather bird. Procuring the necessary monsters for these delicacies had
been difficult, but with our knowledge and resources, we managed it within three days.
Every detail had a purpose: to show not only the wealth and culture of Eterna, but the authority and capability behind it. This was no ordinary celebration—it was a demonstration of what our nation could achieve under firm, visionary leadership.
The guests were enchanted. Some whispered quietly to each other, unsure if what they were witnessing was indulgence or a display of power. Yet I remained seated, observing every reaction. This was my realm, and every glance, every murmur, every bite taken was part of the measure of respect I commanded.
That wasn't all. At the edge of the banquet hall, where the Japanese-style tatami space met the western dining area, a commotion arose. Servants carefully carried a massive fish, unlike anything the guests had ever seen. Its exoskeleton gleamed like armor, and a long, spear-like horn jutted from its head. Four meters long, the abominable creature was known as a "spear tuna," a leviathan of the deep oceans that looked as deadly as it did grotesque.
Yet appearances were deceiving. Beneath that armor-like shell, the red meat resembled the finest tuna, rich and marbled. I had discovered this during a competitive fishing match with Gobta. At first, I had nearly discarded the beast, but a quick scan using my power, Analyze and Assess, revealed non-toxic, highly nutritious flesh.
A simple dip in Eterna's finest soy sauce confirmed its exquisite taste.
Tonight, I decided to unveil it to the guests as both a delicacy and a spectacle. The spear tuna had been freshly caught earlier, and I had personally ensured its transport and preservation. As for the actual carving, I entrusted the task to Hakurou, my master swordsman. With a long kitchen knife forged by Kurobee, he would demonstrate not only his skill but the precision and dignity befitting this occasion.
The guests watched as Hakurou approached the monstrous fish. His movements were deliberate, controlled, each strike avoiding the impenetrable exoskeleton, slicing cleanly through the flesh where possible. It was a performance, an art
form in itself. Even Shuna, who had witnessed countless culinary displays, would have been impressed. Hakurou wielded the knife with the bearing of a master swordsman, every motion a blend of deadly precision and aesthetic grace.
Shion, standing behind me, gripped the ceremonial kitchen knife I had gifted her. Her eyes betrayed her eagerness to assist, yet I placed a firm hand on her shoulder. "Not this time. Watch and learn. Precision is everything here," I instructed, my voice carrying calm authority.
This was not a task for amateurs. The dignitaries present were not merely guests—they were representatives of nations, arbiters of influence, and every detail would reflect on Eterna and its sovereign. I expected flawless execution, and Hakurou did not disappoint.
At first, the crowd recoiled, unsettled by the fish's formidable appearance. But as Hakurou's performance continued, awe replaced fear. The fish's head was removed with a single, fluid motion. The body was sectioned into four portions, then sliced into sashimi with exquisite technique. The marbled belly was carefully displayed atop the red flesh, a visual feast as much as a culinary one. Even I felt a pang of anticipation at the sight.
Guests whispered among themselves, hesitant to try the unusual dish, yet unable to look away. Hakurou's confidence and skill reassured them; they began to see that beneath the grotesque exterior lay a delicacy worthy of kings.
Finally, Hakurou began preparing sushi, his knife dancing across the cutting board as he combined rice, fresh fish, and carefully selected garnishes. I observed the reactions of the guests. Some stiffened with disbelief, others' eyes widened with excitement. This was more than a meal—it was a statement.
I leaned slightly toward Shion and spoke in a low voice, "Observe, learn. Every action, every gesture conveys authority. Even the presentation of food is a reflection of power."
Shion nodded, her eyes sharp and focused. She understood the lesson—not merely the culinary skill, but the commanding presence, the ability to impress and control a room without uttering a single word.
The banquet hall, once filled with whispers of skepticism and fear, now buzzed with admiration. The spear tuna, an unassuming marvel of the deep, had become the centerpiece of the night. And in its display, my authority as sovereign of Eterna radiated unmistakably, impressing every eye and mind present.
The first course had begun, but the night was far from over. The festival awaited, and with it, countless opportunities to demonstrate the might, wisdom, and charisma of Atem, Sovereign of Eterna.