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Chapter 226: The Vassal Clan Banquet (1)
"What a sight."
Standing at the bow of the Sword Ship, I looked down to see a vast expanse of white clouds filling my view.
The strong wind rushing past was enough to sting my eyes, yet it felt refreshing.
"...Didn't we depart a bit too hastily?"
Fichte had approached me at some point and now stood beside me, speaking up.
"We could have afforded some time."
"There was no need for that. If we lingered, there would’ve been those insisting on tagging along."
"I was surprised."
"That people would insist on coming?"
I gave him a puzzled look, but Fichte simply shook his head.
"I just didn’t expect you to have placed such a strong barrier around Khaoto. The detection threat level of that barrier was higher than even Keplan’s."
"Ah, that."
The moment the Flower Sword Ship reached Khaoto, a massive barrier had spread across the sky.
Had Kazen not been informed in advance and dispelled it in time, it could have led to an unfortunate incident.
"It was a bit unexpected, I admit."
"Was it not your doing, Lord Ruin?"
"It was already there."
"That’s even more surprising."
Swoooosh—
As the Flower Sword Ship picked up speed, fierce winds lashed across the bow. At the front stood a lotus swordsmen, unwavering, holding onto the fluttering flag of Ardehain as if it were motionless.
I turned to Fichte and asked,
"What about the Swordmaster?"
"She arrived ahead of us."
"The banquet is being held in Kardis, right?"
"Yes, it is always held at Mount Iris in Kardis."
The very center of the continent.
A forsaken land—Kardis.
It was the perfect location for the banquet, as none of the six Vassal Clans held influence there.
"Clan Head Ziek won’t be attending. I recently learned that he is in critical condition."
"The clan head is critically ill?"
I looked at Fichte.
"This smells fishy. Could this be the work of the Myriad Demon Assembly?"
"We consider it a strong possibility."
I furrowed my brow slightly.
"Then Clan Head Ziek hasn’t been swayed by them?"
"It could just as well be the opposite. It's too early to draw conclusions."
"So that’s why the banquet was delayed."
"There was some confusion. However, the Vassal Clan Banquet is an inviolable gathering mandated by treaty—it is never canceled. It can only be postponed once if at least two clans object to the original date."
"Then aside from Ziek's clan, there was another one."
Fichte replied in a low voice,
"Bellusia didn’t respond by the deadline."
"So postponement was inevitable."
"We tried to reestablish contact, but suddenly, the southern jungle was completely sealed off, making entry impossible."
"This reeks of foul play."
Alshura, Clan Head of Bellusia.
His temperament was foul, but he wasn’t a figure associated with the Myriad Demon Assembly.
There had been intent to warn him, but ever since his sudden disappearance from Keplan, he hadn’t shown a single trace.
Now that the Thousand-Faced Fox reported the southern jungle was nearly under complete control, it was entirely possible that the clan had already been taken over.
"This was one of the variables we anticipated. The Vassal Clans' Banquet won’t be disrupted."
"Has there been any word from the Divine Clans?"
Fichte replied with a bitter expression.
"The Divine Clans haven’t officially attended the Vassal Clans' Banquet in several decades."
At that moment, the Flower Sword Ship tilted forward, descending into the clouds, and the surroundings were instantly enveloped in thick white mist.
"Looks like we’re nearly there."
Moments later, just as we passed through the clouds, a towering cliff came into view, standing alone amidst the desolate landscape.
＊ ＊ ＊
"I’ll be waiting up top. Try not to take too long."
"See you soon, Military Commander."
I disembarked a short distance from the banquet venue.
Fichte headed ahead toward Mount Iris, where the banquet would be held, and I stayed behind for the moment.
No matter how far I looked around, there was only barren land.
A forsaken wasteland.
The parched ground was cracked wide open, and no sign of life could be sensed anywhere. Aside from the Flower Sword Ship, there wasn’t a single airship from the other Vassal Clans in sight.
I had hoped to gather some intel before heading up, but that plan was clearly fruitless now.
"So they’re all already at the top."
From the base of Mount Iris, I looked upward.
It wasn’t so much a mountain as it was a cliff—so steep it looked almost carved by a blade. I activated spatial acceleration and immediately launched myself upward along the cliffside.
Paah—!
I had expected it to be tall, but it was far taller than it appeared from below.
After quite a climb, I finally reached the summit—where an entirely different scene unfolded before me.
"Wow..."
A lush, verdant plain spread out before my eyes, green as jade and vibrant enough to seem like a realm where immortals might dwell.
Billows of soft white clouds floated all around.
Typically, a banquet meant a crowd of people drinking, feasting, laughing, mingling, and celebrating.
Yet curiously, there were hardly any people moving about.
"Excuse me."
A man dressed in white martial robes approached me cautiously.
Just as Fichte had mentioned, this was nothing like a typical banquet.
"Pardon me, but may I ask which clan you represent?"
It was only then that I took a closer look at the man's appearance.
In his right hand was an execution staff, as tall as a person, with the number four engraved at the tip.
Around his bald head was a golden coronet.
"A Guardian Monk of Gaion."
I looked him in the eye and answered:
"I’m from the Samael Clan."
"...I beg your pardon?"
The man asked again, as though he’d misheard.
I pulled out the invitation and handed it to him, but he didn’t even unfold it. Instead, he tilted his head in clear confusion.
"Did you say you were from… where?"
"Samael."
"Samael?"
"That’s right."
"…An outsider at the Vassal Clans’ Banquet?"
I had no intention of replying.
As I silently stepped further into the field, a low voice echoed behind me once again.
"Heh… an outsider at the Vassal Clans’ Banquet?"
A crushing force suddenly pressed down on my body, stopping me in my tracks. The man repeated the exact same words, not a syllable out of place.
"An outsider at the Vassal Clans’ Banquet?"
"…"
What was he trying to provoke?
The moment I resumed walking, thud—a heavy strike hit the ground from behind, followed by a surge of qi aimed directly at me.
"Respond."
Formless Ground Net, a secret qi technique used by Gaion’s Guardian Monks.
As the man released his mana core and struck with his staff, invisible chains wove themselves from the air, aiming to bind my body.
But just before they could ensnare me, confusion flashed across his eyes.
He couldn’t even register my movement.
As he instinctively stepped back—
Bang—!
With a low shockwave, he was flung backward into the air.
I had used spatial acceleration and footwork simultaneously, landing a concussive blow to the left side of his face before he realized what had happened.
"Counter!"
He tried to stabilize midair as he shouted, the golden coronet atop his bald head flaring with light.
Billowing clouds rippled outward, and other staff-wielding monks began appearing.
"Six bald monks?"
All of them were bald-headed Guardian Monks from Gaion—six in total.
The monks soared in rapidly, shouting in alarm as they saw the confrontation between me and their comrade.
"What happened, Fourth Guardian Monk?"
"An outsider has intruded!"
"How dare an outsider appear at the banquet?!"
All six bald monks simultaneously raised their execution staffs, pointing them at me.
"…An outsider at the Vassal Clans’ Banquet?"
Again, the same exact question.
They were undoubtedly arrogant.
They didn’t even bother verifying my invitation or asking why I was here—just blind hostility and extreme exclusiveness.
Vmmmm—
Just as I began to open my mana circle, all six monks suddenly turned their gazes in unison toward a single point in the distance—
beyond the drifting clouds.
That’s when a powerful surge of qi burst forth from that direction.
"…The Lotus Swordmen?"
One of the monks murmured, puzzled.
A moment later, several Lotus Swordsmen and Swordswomen arrived swiftly, positioning themselves between me and the Guardian Monks, cutting off the confrontation.
"Sixth Guardian Monks, stand down at once!"
"Why are the Lotus Swordsmen involved?"
"This guest is under the protection of Ardehain."
The monk whose staff bore the symbol One stepped forward.
"Are the Lotus Swordsmen now shielding outsiders?"
"I said this guest is under Ardehain’s protection, First Guardian Monk."
The monk’s tone shifted noticeably.
"Are you saying Ardehain brought an outsider into the sacred Vassal Clans’ Banquet?"
I said,
"Looks like you didn’t bother reading the invitation."
"Invitation?"
Only then did the Fourth Guardian, the one who’d first questioned me, open the invitation.
"…Ruin Samael?"
"Dark Light—so this is the one."
The guardians murmured among themselves, but even then, the First Guardian’s expression remained clouded with suspicion.
"I still can't understand this. What is Ardehain thinking? Inviting an outsider to the Vassal Clans' Banquet?"
"There’s no need to overthink it."
Everyone’s gaze shifted toward the voice.
Fichte had approached from a distance and now faced the First Guardian directly.
"This is something all the clan heads of the Vassal Clans are already aware of. Naturally, the head of Gaion is also informed."
"…Are you serious, Military Commander?"
"You’re not implying that we, Ardehain, would lie, are you?"
The First Guardian, realizing his slip of the tongue, looked visibly flustered for the first time.
"That’s not what I meant."
"Good. Then there’s no issue, is there?"
"…"
Fichte turned to me.
"Shall we go?"
"You’re too lenient just because you’re both part of the Vassal Clans, Military Commander."
As I smiled and followed Fichte, the First Guardian’s voice rang out behind me.
"What did you just say?"
I turned my head slightly.
"I said he’s being too lenient just because you’re both part of the Vassal Clans."
"Dark Light, was it? You’ve gotten a little fame recently and now you think you’re untouchable."
"You talk too much, baldy."
"…"
The First Guardian, glaring at me, slowly stepped back and replied,
"Don’t mistake Ardehain’s prestige for your own."
With that, the Six Baldies disappeared into the drifting clouds. Fichte let out a faint sigh.
"My mistake. I should’ve stayed with you, but the clan head summoned me urgently."
"It’s fine. This isn’t your fault."
"Let’s head in."
As I followed Fichte and the Lotus Swordsmen across the lush green plain, a field of soft white clouds appeared ahead.
Fichte stepped onto the cloud as naturally as walking on solid ground, and I followed suit.
Surprisingly, walking on the clouds felt no different from walking on land.
After wandering through the surrounding mist for a while, an old-fashioned, standalone manor emerged from within the cloudscape.
"Ruin, all the clan heads of the Six Vassal Clans have arrived."
"Even Alshura?"
"Yes."
I let out a crooked smile.
"Now this should be interesting."
Heavy currents of aura could be felt from all directions.
Especially from within the manor ahead—fewer in number, but each one radiated an intense presence.
"As soon as the clan heads finish their meeting, the agenda will be presented immediately."
"Let’s go in."
"Ah, Ruin."
Fichte suddenly spoke up with a hint of concern in his voice.
"You are a guest of Ardehain. There's no need to be overly confrontational with the other clans. I worry it might cause trouble for Samael."
"Is this about those baldies earlier?"
"…"
I looked at Fichte and shook my head.
"You’re sharp, Military Commander."
"…Sorry?"
"It’s a compliment. You’re very clever."
"I just meant there's no need to antagonize Gaion unnecessarily."
"But sometimes cleverness makes you lose sight of what really matters."
"I’ll take that to heart."
"You still don’t understand what kind of intent brought me here."
"…"
I walked past Fichte and stepped before the front door of the manor.
"I’m not here for politics."
Boom—
The doors swung open roughly, revealing the interior of the manor.
The grand banquet hall spanned two floors, and along the left side of the first floor, the flags of the Six Vassal Clans stood proudly in a row.
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HELHEIM SCANS
[Translator - Prøks]
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