Staring at the velvet box and the blue-gemmed silver pendant offered directly in front of her, Aeliana blinked.
As someone who had only recently stepped out of the Silverleaf Forest, she didn't understand why an old man she was meeting for the very first time was suddenly presenting her with such a luxurious gift for absolutely no reason.
Before the silence in the hall could turn awkward, Lorien Caldwell acted swiftly.
Lorien leaned toward Aeliana. His hand touched the Elf's back with a gentle, guiding motion, delivering a silent cue.
"Accept it, Aeliana, and thank the Tower Master," Lorien said in a calm tone. "A high-tier protective item like that will be incredibly useful for ensuring your safety when we adventure through the continent's perilous ruins later."
It was a brilliant parry. Through a single, subtle emphasis on the words 'when we adventure', Lorien snatched the narrative of ownership back.
He subtly rejected Zareth's invisible offer to detain and foster Aeliana within the Magic Tower, while simultaneously cementing to the public that the [ArchMage] resided firmly under the banner of The Gilded Falcons.
Aeliana, still naive and completely oblivious to the verbal warfare occurring above her head, nodded obediently. She accepted the box and smiled genuinely.
"Thank you very much for your kindness, Tower Master."
Zareth Caldris did not argue. He retracted his hand and merely replied to the gratitude with a mysterious smile.
Sensing the tension beginning to settle, the Mayor of Wealden immediately clapped his hands softly, breaking the room's collective focus.
"Honorable guests, let us momentarily cease these formal affairs," the Mayor announced with a blooming smile. "The dinner banquet is served."
The noble guests were directed toward a massive round table crafted from carved mahogany. The seating arrangement at the table was strictly orchestrated, perfectly reflecting the invisible hierarchy of power.
Lorien and Aeliana were placed in the seats of honor near the Mayor, sitting directly across from Zareth Caldris and the Astora family.
The soft strumming of lutes from the bards in the corner of the room echoed gently, struggling desperately to mask the night air, which felt tense and thick with calculation.
Rows of neatly dressed servants marched in with synchronized steps.
They placed the appetizers before the guests: a bowl of pottage—a thick, warm stew made from meat broth and selected vegetables that emitted a savory aroma—alongside slices of fresh fruit arranged beautifully on a silver tray to open the palate.
Demonstrating his noble bloodline, Lorien consumed the appetizer with an upright posture and flawless etiquette, not allowing his spoon to clink against the bottom of the bowl once.
Beside him, Aeliana followed suit with the natural grace that flowed inherently within the Elven race.
While cutting a slice of apple on his plate with a silver knife, the Mayor looked toward Aeliana, initiating a subtle interrogation draped in pleasantries.
"Lady Aeliana," the Mayor began with a tone brimming with curiosity. "As a rare existence possessing a Hero-tier Talent, did you never scan or realize the presence of such a majestic talent previously in your homeland?"
Aeliana placed her soup spoon down gently. She answered the question innocently.
"Elven society lives at a very relaxed pace due to our long lifespans, Lord Mayor," Aeliana explained, her voice as melodious as a morning bird's song.
"We do not possess the custom of forcefully scanning talents from an early age as is done here. We believe that every child will naturally discover the path of their own talent as time flows, in harmony with nature."
Hearing that philosophy, Zareth Caldris interjected with a slightly patronizing, fatherly tone.
"A highly poetic philosophy," Zareth commented, setting down his wine glass. "However, is it not a terrible shame to squander such precious youth without cultivating a talent of that magnitude from the very beginning?"
Aeliana tilted her head slightly, looking at the ruler of the tower with an innocent expression. "But, my mother said I am not even considered an adult until I reach a hundred years of age. She gave me the freedom to go and do whatever I please right now to seek experience."
Hearing the number 'one hundred years' referred to as immature, the human nobles at the table exchanged glances. But for Caspian Astora, it was the perfect opening to show off once more.
The young man puffed out his chest, looking at Aeliana with a proud smile.
"The human world moves at a vastly accelerated pace, Lady Aeliana. As a comparison, I am only eighteen years of age... yet I successfully achieved the rank of a [Tier 3] Mage this very afternoon."
Caspian awaited a look of awe or praise for his superiority. And Aeliana, who entirely failed to grasp that the young man was flaunting his arrogance, responded with completely genuine admiration.
"Wow, that is truly amazing!" Aeliana praised with sparkling eyes, offering a sweet smile that made Caspian puff his chest out even further. "When I was eighteen years old, I couldn't even cast spells above [Tier 1] properly."
In the seat beside her, Lorien gripped the stem of his wine glass tightly. His sharp eyes darted around the table. He caught the hungry stares of the old nobles who were continuously pressing, intending to dig deeper for information from the Elf.
If this conversation was allowed to continue flowing, Aeliana's innocence and honesty would unwittingly reveal far too many weaknesses and secrets regarding her true power to the enemies currently hunting her.
It was time to turn the weapons around.
Lorien placed his cloth napkin slowly onto the table, cutting off the topic with an elegant verbal maneuver.
"Speaking of which," Lorien said with his baritone voice that demanded attention, diverting all eyes away from Aeliana. "The presence of Earl Astora and his only son in Wealden City is truly a pleasant surprise."
Lorien stared straight at the Earl across the table. A formal smile was etched onto his face, but his eyes glared sharply, searching for a weak point. "Whatever business could bring a high noble family from the capital all the way down here?"
Earl Astora, who had been silently observing the entire time, calmly set down his wine glass. The lines on his old noble face betrayed not a single ounce of nervousness.
"I am currently on my way home after attending a grand auction in the neighboring kingdom," Earl Astora answered in a composed tone. "Unfortunately, I failed to acquire the rare item I was seeking there."
The Earl paused for a moment. He shifted his gaze from Lorien, then looked directly at Aeliana with a highly meaningful stare.
"However..." Earl Astora continued slowly, the corners of his lips curving into a faint smile. "While stopping briefly in Wealden to rest, I heard news far more valuable than any auction item: the emergence of someone with a Hero-tier Talent."
Hearing everyone at the table discussing her, Aeliana tilted her head. She looked at the row of noble faces and asked innocently, "Is a Hero-tier Talent truly that magnificent?"
The Mayor of Wealden set down his glass slowly. His face turned incredibly serious.
"A Hero-tier Talent is not merely magnificent, Lady Aeliana. It is profoundly rare," the Mayor explained in an authoritative tone. "Throughout recorded history, the vast majority of those possessing such talents were the ones who successfully rewrote the history of the world with their unparalleled achievements and power."
As if that statement were a cue, the Mayor delivered a subtle signal with a snap of his fingers.
The servants lined up at the edge of the room immediately moved forward soundlessly, pulling away the appetizer soup bowls and replacing them with the main course.
Massive silver platters were served onto the table. Upon them lay cuts of high-quality monster meat, roasted to a perfect medium-rare, showcasing the tender texture of the meat fibers.
The sharp aroma of rich spices immediately assaulted their olfactory senses, mingling with a thick, brownish broth sauce simmering softly at the edges of the platter. Hot steam billowed from the dish, filling the hall's air with a fragrance and luxury that could only be enjoyed by the elite few behind thick walls.
In tandem with the arrival of the main course, the specially prepared entertainment commenced.
An old bard stepped into the open area in the center of the room. He strummed the strings of his lute, creating a melancholic and epic melody that flowed harmoniously to accompany the guests' meal.
"Listen to the echoes of the past," the bard began narrating with his heavy baritone voice. He recited a tale from the dark era after the grand civilization was pulverized by the demonic invasion from the Abyssal dimension.
"From the residual ashes of civilization's destruction... a young boy was born bearing the Talent of an[ArchMage]."
The bard deliberately placed heavy intonation on the word [ArchMage], cleverly drawing a parallel between Aeliana's position at the table and the legendary figure.
"The boy grew with an unnatural love and obsession for the magical arts. His name was Merlin."
He strummed his strings faster, raising the tempo. The bard sang of Merlin's journey across the world, penetrating various perilous ancient ruins purely to gather the fragmented knowledge left behind by a vanished golden age.
However, the tone of the lute slowly shifted into something sorrowful.
"In his quest, Merlin realized a tragic truth," the bard chanted. "This world had weakened drastically compared to the Ancient Era."
"Pure mana crystals were no longer naturally forged in the wild, leaving only high-tier Mana Stones as the absolute pinnacle of energy. And more tragically... the foundation of physical and spiritual strength of the new generation of humanity was incredibly fragile when compared to their predecessors."
Zareth Caldris ate his meat calmly, enjoying the flow of a story that seemed meticulously tailored to lull the ears of the young mage before him.
"Seeing that the inhabitants of this world would never be able to wield the magics of the Ancient Era, which were far too complex and demanded colossal energy," the bard continued, "Merlin utilized all the literature he salvaged to forge a new foundation. He restructured magic so it could be learned by the weakened denizens of the world."
The bard explained how Merlin established a new classification system called The Merlinian Scale. He divided it hierarchically from Tier 1 up to Tier 10 based on the difficulty of comprehension, ease of casting, and mana capacity requirements.
Suddenly, the strumming of the lute grew harsh. The tempo shifted sharply, flowing a thick nuance of conflict throughout the room.
"However, that innovation was not welcomed with open arms," the bard declared, his voice echoing off the marble walls. "The remaining orthodox mages from the Ancient Era vehemently refused. To them, simplifying the sacred art of magic into mere numbered tiers was a degrading insult to the dignity of magic itself."
The bard's fingers danced rapidly over the strings, painting the tension of a battle.
"But Merlin did not falter. Armed with his talent as an[ArchMage], he challenged the orthodox elders. Upon a stone arena, he proved that in an era where mana reserves were dwindling, the precision and efficiency of the Tier System was vastly more lethal and practical than complex, mana-wasting ancient incantations."
"It was that crushing victory that silenced his detractors, establishing his system as the absolute standard of magic across all of Orion," he chanted firmly.
After the climax of the battle was recounted, the lute strumming slowly decelerated, morphing into an incredibly solemn melody that invited deep sympathy. The bard turned his body slowly, deliberately directing his gaze toward the seat of honor where Aeliana sat.
"Merlin, a young man from nowhere blessed with a majestic talent, was able to save civilization... not because he walked alone," the bard chanted with a specially designed emphasis in tone.
"He successfully fulfilled his grand destiny because he found the right mentors, and took shelter in a proper sanctuary to forge his talent so that history would not rot once more."
Right as that heavily laden stanza was sung, Zareth Caldris slowly raised his glass of red wine. The Tower Master stared directly at Aeliana with a fatherly smile that seemed to offer a path to salvation, then took an elegant sip of his wine.
In the seat beside her, Lorien's jaw locked. His grip on the cloth napkin in his lap tightened until his knuckles turned white. His eyes glared piercingly at Zareth.
Lorien fully realized that this entire epic musical performance was not mere dinner entertainment. It was a velvet-draped brainwashing attempt designed to plant a heavy burden of responsibility onto Aeliana's shoulders.
They wanted the Elven girl to feel as though she carried the destiny of the world, coaxing her to willingly abandon the filthy streets with an adventurer's party, and surrender herself entirely into the grasp of the Magic Tower.
The bard bowed deeply and respectfully, delivering his closing sentence dramatically.
"And the sacrifice and genius of Merlin, the Father of Modern Magic, will never fade with the passage of time," the bard stated solemnly.
"His tale has been immortalized within the grand literature titled 'Merlin the Seeker of Truth'... a masterpiece penned by the observer of history, Eon."