Amidst the swirling mana and imperial chatter, Markus took a breath to capture the reality of his success. He activated his wrist-link, the holographic interface flickering as he snapped dozens of multi-spectrum photos.
He framed his grandparents at the center—the architects of his world—looking regal beside the Emperor's own table. "NOVUS, Archive: The Golden Banquet," he whispered. A soft chime confirmed the upload to the cloud. In a world where empires could fall, and memories could fade,
Markus was determined to make this victory immortal, tucked away in the secure vaults of his family's AGI.
Option 2: The Tactical Exchange (Webnovel Style)
Best for highlighting the "Power System" and the clever way Markus uses NOVUS to handle the situation.
The crimson-and-gold dress of a Swiss Guard eclipsed the light as he leaned in toward Markus.
"Lord Markus, the Emperor's lineage is a state secret. Please verify that your storage does not contain unauthorized profiles."
Markus tapped the side of his communication watch, signaling NOVUS to run an immediate "Imperial Filter" on the recent uploads.
"Rest easy," Markus replied, his voice carrying the effortless poise of a generational prodigy. "I've configured my capture-array to auto-blur any Royal signatures. If your unit requires proof, I can provide a direct uplink to our secure servers for a real-time safety sweep. We Blackwells value the Emperor's privacy as much as our own."
A sharp, metallic chime echoed from the Guard's gauntlet as he accepted the digital handshake. "A wise decision, Young Lord. We shall review the cloud-logs to ensure no unauthorized signatures were captured by accident. Your cooperation reflects well on the House of Blackwell."
He offered a stiff, shallow nod—a gesture of respect that was more about duty than friendship—before stepping back into the shadows of the pillars.
Silence fell so abruptly it felt like a physical blow as Valerian tapped his goblet. The Emperor stood, and the mana-density in the room seemed to spike, aligning with his upright posture. Plates were abandoned and conversations died in throats as the hall stood at a stiff, respectful attention.
Raising his glass toward the center of the hall, Valerian's eyes burned with a calm, predatory light. "A toast to the victors of today," he intoned, the words vibrating in the guests' mana circuits, "and the hopes of our future."
The banquet reached its tactical conclusion with a single command from Elena. With a resonant clap, she deactivated the "Dining Array," causing the massive obsidian furniture to dissolve back into raw elemental essence beneath the guests' feet.
The hall breathed, the floor flattening and expanding in a feat of high-tier geomancy. As the guests transitioned to the new, smaller tables rising at the perimeter, the air grew heavy with a different kind of power.
The legendary singer Adele appeared at the heart of the hall, her voice—unfiltered and raw—cutting through the mana-dense atmosphere. It was a performance that transcended the apocalypse, a hauntingly beautiful reminder of the culture the Empire had fought so hard to preserve.
Elder Isaac acted as the hidden anchor for the performance. Utilizing a rare Acoustic Law, he filtered the music through the hall's earthen resonance, stripping away any echo or distortion. He manipulated the air pressure around each guest, delivering the "Essence of the Song" directly into their sensory receptors.
To the guests, it felt as though Adele was whispering directly into their hearts. Isaac's control was so precise that even the low-frequency mana-hum of the Swiss Guards' equipment was silenced, leaving nothing but the pure, soul-stirring frequency of the music to dominate the night.
While the rest of the elite were lost in the music, Markus's mind was already three steps ahead. He found Elena observing the room with her sharp, earthen gaze.
"Headmistress Elena," he said, inclining his head just enough to show respect without appearing subordinate. "Today's victory was only a baseline. I've been refining a few concepts regarding a hidden attribute I have awakened that could elevate the Academy's Tier-ranking across the board. I would like to consult with you on how we might integrate these into the official curriculum."
"Linking now," Markus stated, his voice barely audible over Adele's soaring vocals. A pulse of blue light jumped between their devices as the [Perception Awakening Protocol] was uploaded to the Headmistress's private server.
The file contained Markus's firsthand findings on sensory mana-resonance—a training plan that promised to sharpen a student's 'combat-vision' beyond the limits of their current Tier. As Elena scrolled through the experimental schematics, the ambient earth-mana around her rippled; she realized that if these findings were scaled, the Academy wouldn't just be training warriors—they would be forging seers.
A heavy silence settled between them as the implications of the file took hold. Elena looked up, her gaze sharper than ever. "If this data holds under scrutiny, I'll be calling an emergency session of the Academy's Grand Professors," she stated firmly. "But we won't stop there. An attribute that sharpens sensory signatures would have a catastrophic impact on our current military doctrines. You're talking about elevating thousands of personnel beyond their current Tier limitations. This stays between us until I can secure a Level-Red briefing."
"The Blackwell team will act as the vanguard for this project," Markus stated, his tone as cold and precise as a blade. "I require total control over their training modules. Given the threats ahead, 'average' is no longer an option."
Elena signaled a hidden Floor Manager to ensure their corner remained private. "I understand the urgency. If we can harvest clean, empirical results from your team's progression, we'll log the entire process. We will treat this as a 'Beta-Phase' trial; if the success rate hits our threshold, I will officially declare the Perception Awakening Suite a mandatory course for the elite tiers. Your findings will be the new gold standard."
Markus returned to the side of Alisair and Rosanne, the three of them forming a silent tableau of Blackwell power amidst the dissolving feast. He felt the weight of the data-file he'd handed Elena—a seed of revolution now planted in the Academy's soil.
As the banquet reached its natural end, the grand hall began to breathe in the cool night air. Guests trickled out through the massive gates like fading mana-signatures, their faces etched with the shock of what they had seen.
Tonight was more than a meal; it was a shift in the status quo. By tomorrow, the rumors of the "Unrepeatable Banquet" would be the primary currency of the capital, echoing through every training hall and noble estate in the West.