The Banquet (2)

The banquet hall was alive with the hum of conversation, the clinking of glasses, and the occasional burst of laughter. Nobles, adventurers, and dignitaries mingled, their voices blending into a symphony of political intrigue and social maneuvering. But all eyes seemed to drift toward one figure in particular—Julius Vaelorian.

Julius stood near the center of the room, his black suit with silver embroidery catching the light with every movement. His white hair was impeccably styled, and his blue eyes gleamed with a dangerous light. He held a glass of wine in one hand, swirling it lazily as he surveyed the room with a smirk that bordered on arrogance.

Elaine stood beside him, her emerald gown shimmering faintly, her expression cold and unreadable. Joseph lingered a few steps behind, his calm demeanor a stark contrast to the tension radiating from Julius.

The whispers began almost immediately.

"Is that Julius Vaelorian? I heard he was disowned."

"The drunkard? What's he doing here?"

"Look at him, acting like he owns the place. Who does he think he is?"

The disdain was palpable. To the nobles, Julius was nothing more than a disgrace—a man who had squandered his family's name and reputation. The stories of his drunken escapades and reckless behavior had spread far and wide, and now, here he was, walking into one of the most sacred events of the year as if he belonged.

But Julius didn't seem to care. He reveled in the attention, his smirk never faltering as he led Elaine and Joseph through the crowd.

Before Julius could approach the Windriders, the room fell silent as the grand doors at the far end of the hall swung open. A hush fell over the crowd as the Pontifex of the Church of Light entered, his presence commanding the attention of everyone in the room.

The Pontifex was a tall, imposing figure, his robes pristine and his expression calm but filled with an undercurrent of authority. His eyes, sharp and piercing, scanned the room before landing on Julius. For a moment, their gazes locked, and Julius felt a flicker of unease. The Pontifex's eyes seemed to see right through him, as if they could sense the demonic energy that lurked within.

But Julius didn't flinch. He met the Pontifex's gaze with a smirk, his blue eyes glinting with defiance.

The Pontifex didn't respond. Instead, he made his way to the front of the room, where a throne had been placed beside the King's. He took his seat, his expression calm but his eyes sharp as he turned to face the crowd.

King Alden Belmont stood, his golden crown glinting in the light as he addressed the room. "Ladies and gentlemen, honored guests, welcome to the royal banquet. Before we begin, there is a matter that must be addressed."

The room fell silent, all eyes turning toward the King. His gaze landed on Julius, his expression darkening.

"Julius Vaelorian," the King said, his voice booming across the hall. "Step forward."

Julius didn't hesitate. He stepped forward, his smirk never faltering as he faced the King.

"Your Majesty," Julius said, his tone smooth and unbothered. "What a pleasure to finally meet you."

The King's eyes narrowed, his voice filled with barely contained anger. "Do you really think that our royal spies wouldn't be able to decipher that Lucien Dross was an alias?"

The room erupted in whispers, the nobles murmuring among themselves as the revelation sank in.

"Lucien Dross? The head of the Golden Compass?"

"That's Julius Vaelorian? The drunkard?"

"How did he manage to build such an empire?"

Julius didn't respond. He simply stood there, his smirk never faltering as he waited for the King to continue.

The King's voice grew louder, his tone filled with anger. "But that's not the only crime you've committed. You've murdered two princes of the Windrider Clan—a clan under the protection of Albion. And you've kidnapped Princess Elaine, the last surviving member of their family. Do you have any idea what this means? Do you have any idea the chaos you've caused?"

Julius's smirk faded, replaced by a cold, calculating expression. "Your Majesty, if I may—"

The King cut him off, his voice booming across the hall. "You've put this entire kingdom at risk. And for what? Your own selfish pride?"

Julius's eyes narrowed, his voice calm but filled with an undercurrent of anger. "Selfish pride? Is that what you think this is about?"

The King's eyes narrowed. "Then explain yourself. Why did you kill them?"

Julius took a step forward, his blue eyes glinting with a dangerous light. "Because they attacked me first."

The room fell silent, the tension palpable. Julius's voice carried across the hall, his tone calm but filled with an undercurrent of anger.

"Your Majesty, I understand your concerns. Truly, I do. The Windriders are a powerful clan, and their alliance with Albion is not something to be taken lightly. But let me ask you this—what would you do if you were attacked in your own home? If your family was threatened? Would you not defend yourself?"

The King's expression softened slightly, but his voice remained firm. "Explain."

Julius nodded, his tone calm and measured. "The first prince attacked me during a trip to Hackendor. I was there on business, representing the Golden Compass. He ambushed me, thinking I was an easy target. I defended myself, not knowing who he was. How was I to know he was a Windrider? And the second prince? He led a group of assassins into my home. They attacked me and my family. If I hadn't acted, we would all be dead."

The King's eyes narrowed, his voice low and measured. "And the kidnapping of Princess Elaine?"

Julius's expression softened, his tone filled with regret. "Princess Elaine was injured during the attack. I took her in to ensure she received proper medical care. I had no intention of keeping her against her will. But given the circumstances, I couldn't risk her returning to her people and inciting further violence."

The room was silent, the tension thick enough to cut with a knife. Julius's voice carried across the hall, his tone calm but filled with an undercurrent of anger.

"Your Majesty, I am not the villain here. I am a man who was forced to defend himself and his family. If anyone should be paying for this, it's the Windriders—and Merlin, for allowing his so-called 'protected' clan to attack a noble of a foreign country."

The King's expression softened, his voice low and measured. "You make a compelling argument, Julius. But the fact remains—you've put this kingdom at risk."

Julius nodded, his tone calm but filled with an undercurrent of anger. "I understand, Your Majesty. And I am willing to do whatever it takes to make things right. But I will not apologize for defending myself and my family."

The King's eyes narrowed, his voice low and measured. "Very well. We will discuss this further. But for now, you are dismissed."

Julius nodded, his smirk returning as he turned to leave. But before he could take a step, his body suddenly convulsed. He dropped to his knees, his hands clutching his chest as a wave of pain washed over him. His vision blurred, and the room seemed to spin around him.

The crowd erupted in whispers, the nobles murmuring among themselves as they watched Julius collapse to the ground.

"What's happening to him?"

"Did the elves poison him?"

"Those damn barbarians—they must have done it!"

Sophia was the first to rush forward, her golden hair catching the light as she knelt beside Julius. "Julius! What's wrong?"

But Julius didn't respond. His body continued to convulse, his eyes rolling back into his head as he lost consciousness.

---

Julius found himself standing in a void of swirling shadows, the air thick with the scent of sulfur and the faint hum of distant whispers. The ground beneath him was an endless expanse of black glass, reflecting the dim, flickering light of an unseen source. Above him, the sky was a chaotic tapestry of shifting darkness, as if the stars themselves had been swallowed by an eternal abyss.

At the center of this desolate realm sat a throne—a jagged, obsidian structure that seemed to pulse with a life of its own. Julius approached it with a smirk, his white hair glowing faintly in the gloom. He ran a hand along the armrest, feeling the cold, smooth surface beneath his fingers.

"Welcome back, Jiwon," a voice echoed through the void, deep and resonant, yet tinged with a strange, almost playful malice.

Julius turned to see Beelzebub, though the demon was no longer the imposing, humanoid figure he once was. Instead, he was a shifting mass of darkness—a writhing, amorphous blob that seemed to absorb the light around it. His form was unstable, constantly changing, as if struggling to maintain a coherent shape. Only his glowing, crimson eyes remained constant, piercing through the shadows like twin embers.

"Beelzebub," Julius said, his voice calm but laced with amusement. "You're looking... different."

The blob of darkness rippled, and Beelzebub's voice emerged, smooth and mocking. "Appearances are trivial, Jiwon. What matters is the chaos you've sown. The Pontifex suspects you and the Windriders want your head on a pike. And yet, here you are, smirking like you've already won."

Julius chuckled, leaning against the throne. "Isn't that the point? Let them think they have the upper hand. Let them believe they've cornered me. The more they underestimate me, the easier it'll be to tear them apart."

Beelzebub's form shifted, his crimson eyes narrowing. "You're a clever one, Jiwon. Far more than they give you credit for. That's why I chose you. Your mind is a labyrinth, and every twist and turn leads to destruction. It's... intoxicating."

Julius raised an eyebrow, his smirk widening. "Flattery, Beelzebub? Careful, or I might start thinking you actually like me."

The blob of darkness rippled again, and a low, rumbling laugh filled the void. "Like you? No, Jiwon. I admire you. There's a difference. You're a force of chaos, a storm wrapped in human skin. And storms... they don't care who they destroy."

Julius tilted his head, his blue eyes glinting with curiosity. "And what about you? Why do you look like... that?" He gestured vaguely at Beelzebub's unstable form.

For a moment, the void fell silent. Then Beelzebub's voice emerged, quieter now, almost contemplative. "You and I are becoming more alike, Jiwon. Day by day, your soul grows darker, and mine... adapts. I am a reflection of you, just as you are a reflection of me. The more you embrace your nature, the more I take on your essence. This form—" He gestured to his shifting, blob-like body. "—is the result. A merging of our wills, our desires, our chaos."

Julius studied the demon, his smirk fading into a thoughtful expression. "So, you're saying I'm changing you?"

Beelzebub's crimson eyes gleamed. "And you're changing me. It's a symbiotic relationship, Jiwon. The more you give in to your darker impulses, the stronger I become. And the stronger I become, the more power I can lend you. But beware—the line between us grows thinner with every passing day. Soon, you may not be able to tell where I end and you begin."

Julius chuckled, though there was a hint of unease in his voice. "Sounds like a dangerous game."

"It is," Beelzebub replied, his tone darkening. "But danger is what makes it fun, isn't it?"

Julius didn't respond immediately. Instead, he turned his gaze to the throne, running his fingers along its jagged edges. "And what happens when the line disappears? When there's no difference between us?"

Beelzebub's laughter echoed through the void, a sound that was both menacing and strangely comforting. "Then, Jiwon, you'll truly be unstoppable. But at what cost? That's the question you'll have to answer."

Julius smirked, though his eyes betrayed a flicker of doubt. "I'll cross that bridge when I come to it. For now, let's focus on the game at hand. The Pontifex, the King, the Windriders—they're all pieces on the board. And I intend to play them all."

Beelzebub's form shifted, his crimson eyes glowing brighter. "As you wish, Jiwon. But remember—every move you make brings you closer to the edge. And when you finally fall, I'll be there to catch you... or consume you."

Julius chuckled, his smirk returning. "I wouldn't have it any other way."

The void around them began to dissolve, the shadows receding as Julius felt himself being pulled back to the waking world. Beelzebub's voice echoed one last time, faint but unmistakable.

"Until next time, Jiwon. Don't disappoint me."