As the attendant’s voice rang out, the noise in the hall instantly fell silent.
All eyes turned to the entrance.
Walking in through the door was a petite young girl.
She looked no more than fifteen or sixteen, her height only coming up to Dongfang Jiang’s shoulder, even a bit shorter than Fritz.
A cascade of golden blonde hair flowed behind her, the ends slightly curled, shimmering with a soft luster under the light.
Her face was small, her features so delicate they seemed more like a painting come to life than a real person.
She wore a pure white gown, the collar and cuffs trimmed with gold lace, and a large sapphire brooch pinned to her chest.
A small crown sat on her head, the gems refracting colorful rays of light.
Her steps were steady, each one carrying a composure beyond her years.
As her gaze swept across the banquet hall, those sapphire blue eyes held an innate authority.
“So this is… the King of the Kingdom of Aiselin… Completely different from the one at the meeting before.”
Pandana muttered next to Dongfang Jiang, her voice full of disbelief.
“Hmm.”
Yisela responded softly, watching the petite girl with complicated emotions in her eyes.
Following the King through the door was a silver-haired woman in a maid outfit.
She appeared to be in her early twenties, her silver-white hair styled into an elegant bun, with a few stray strands falling by her ears.
Her features were refined and cool, her expression indifferent, revealing no emotion.
Her maid dress was black and white, the hem reaching her ankles, with a white apron tied at her waist.
Her steps were light as if floating, following exactly one step behind the King—neither too close nor too far, just right.
“That’s Bell, Her Majesty’s personal attendant. She’s also the captain of the palace guard and the owner of an S-rank Wind Ring. Don’t let the outfit fool you—her combat ability is on par with Qin Ye.”
Ignacius said in a low voice to Dongfang Jiang.
Dongfang Jiang took another look at Bellfast.
The silver-haired maid seemed to sense his gaze, slightly turned her head, and glanced at him.
Their eyes met for an instant, then Bellfast averted her gaze expressionlessly.
Behind the King and Bellfast, another person followed.
It was an old man draped in a dark red monk’s robe.
He appeared to be in his sixties or seventies, with a thin build and skin like dried tree bark, covered in deep wrinkles.
His head was completely shaved, gleaming faintly under the light.
A string of beads hung around his neck, each bead a dark red, like congealed blood.
The old man’s pace was slow, each step precise as if measured.
His eyes were half-closed, as if asleep, but occasionally, a sharp glint would flash through the slits.
“And that is…”
Dongfang Jiang asked quietly.
“The National Preceptor, Ambrose.”
Ignacius’s tone grew serious.
“He is the only holder of an S-rank Spirit Ring in the Kingdom of Aiselin. When Her Majesty ascended the throne at a young age, he assisted her in stabilizing the court. He keeps a low profile, but no one in the court dares to underestimate him.”
“Spirit type?”
“Legend says he can read minds and manipulate memories. Of course, no one can confirm it, because those who have seen him in action are either dead or insane.”
Dongfang Jiang looked at the old monk again.
Ambrose seemed to feel his gaze, slightly opened his half-closed eyes, and glanced in Dongfang Jiang’s direction.
It was a brief glance, but Dongfang Jiang felt an indescribable chill rise from his spine, as if something was probing his inner thoughts.
The Earth Ring grew slightly warm, and the chill instantly dissipated.
Ambrose’s mouth twitched upward slightly.
He withdrew his gaze and continued to follow unhurriedly behind the King.
The King reached the dais at the far end of the banquet hall, turned around, and faced the crowd.
“Please, rise.”
Her voice was clear, carrying a unique sweetness of a young girl, but her tone held an undeniable authority.
“I called everyone here today for no other reason. I just wanted to take this opportunity for everyone to gather, have some drinks, and chat.”
Her gaze swept across the crowd, pausing on Dongfang Jiang for less than half a second before casually moving away.
“Be at ease.”
After saying this, the King walked down from the dais.
Bellfast and Ambrose followed on her left and right.
She held a wine glass, moved through the crowd, exchanged a few pleasantries with some important nobles, and then disappeared through a side door with her attendants.
The banquet continued, the atmosphere even more lively than before.
But Dongfang Jiang noticed that Ambrose had not left with the King.
The old monk stood in a corner of the banquet hall, hands tucked into his sleeves, eyes half-closed like a statue.
But every so often, his gaze would sweep across the crowd, as if searching for something.
“Who is he looking at?”
Yisela also noticed.
She held her wine glass and slowly walked over to Dongfang Jiang.
“Don’t know. But being stared at by him doesn’t feel good.”
Dongfang Jiang averted his gaze and took a sip from his glass.
“Hey, that’s mine.”
“Oh, no wonder it tastes sweeter than before.”
When Yisela heard that, not only did she not take the glass back, but Dongfang Jiang even shamelessly prepared to take a second sip.
But before his intention could succeed, Yisela snatched the glass back.
Halfway through the banquet, a figure stepped out from the crowd and walked straight toward Dongfang Jiang.
It was Qin Ye.
Today she wasn’t in uniform.
She wore a wine-red gown, her white hair flowing over her shoulders, which softened her battlefield edge and added a touch of feminine grace.
“We meet again.”
Qin Ye stopped in front of Dongfang Jiang and gave a slight bow as a greeting.
“General Qin.”
Dongfang Jiang put down his glass and wiped his mouth.
“Is your spear okay after that sparring session?”
“No problem. The tip was a little worn, but I’ve had the smith fix it.”
Qin Ye’s tone was casual, like chatting with a friend.
“Your Sword Control technique is very interesting. I pondered it for a long time after returning and finally came up with a countermeasure.”
“Then next time we spar, you’ll be prepared.”
“Next time?”
Qin Ye raised an eyebrow.
“You’re still willing to fight me?”
“Only by fighting the strong can one become stronger.”
Dongfang Jiang spoke sincerely.
Qin Ye stared at him for a few seconds, then smiled.
“Alright. Next time we spar, I won’t lose again.”
“Looking forward to it.”
The two exchanged smiles, the atmosphere much more harmonious than on the training grounds.
Qin Ye was about to say something when her gaze suddenly shifted past Dongfang Jiang to behind him.
Dongfang Jiang turned around and saw Bell standing about three steps behind him.
The silver-haired maid was expressionless, holding a silver tray with a glass of red wine on it.
“Mister Dongfang, a certain Lord wishes to invite you over for a chat.”
Bellfast’s voice was soft, only audible to Dongfang Jiang and the few people beside him.
“Which Lord?”
Dongfang Jiang asked.
Bellfast did not answer, only slightly turned and made a “please” gesture.
Dongfang Jiang glanced at Yisela.
Yisela gave him a slight nod, signaling him to be careful.
“Alright, I understand.”
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