FEAST AT ROYAL CAPITAL

As the sun dipped behind the skyline of Lumisgrave, casting golden hues across the city, the Mythic Base was filled with an unusual energy—not of combat, but celebration. It was a rare night of peace, honor, and dignity.

Inside the base, rooms bustled with clinking buckles, murmurs over clothing, and teasing voices echoing through the halls.

Arslan, freshly bathed and standing in front of a mirror, buttoned a crisp white shirt tucked into fitted black jeans . His hair, usually messy from training, had been tamed just enough to give him a striking presence. His sleeves were folded neatly, collar stiff, and a sleek obsidian chain rested just above his chest.

He looked nothing like the brooding warrior of battle—tonight, he looked regal.

The door creaked open gently.

Nirela Quen stepped in, radiant in a flowing sapphire-blue dress that shimmered with every step. Her silver hair had been styled into soft waves, framing her gentle features.

She walked up close to Arslan, barely a breath between them, and adjusted the top button of his shirt with slow fingers.

> Nirela (softly, smiling): "You are looking so beautiful… I mean dangerously beautiful."

Arslan, his eyes not leaving hers, wrapped an arm around her waist gently and leaned closer.

> Arslan (whispering): "And you're looking mine."

Nirela blushed, but before she could reply—

> Yuna Solthrae's voice came from the hallway, followed by the creak of the door.

Yuna: "Ahem… Hate to interrupt lovebirds, but if you're done turning this into a romance novel—"

Seris Vahla poked her head in too, smirking.

> Seris: "We're going to be late. Come on, Loverboy."

Arslan chuckled, releasing Nirela, who was still smiling shyly.

> Arslan: "Let's go. I'm not going to miss food at the royal capital."

The carriage doors opened to the dazzling lights of Camelot, a massive royal dining hall shaped in a circular arc, with marble pillars engraved in golden designs. The ceilings rose high above with stained-glass murals telling stories of past Echelon wars, glowing from within as if lit by the stars.

Guards in silver stood at every arch, and the buzz of the Apex and Zenith-ranked Echelon Knights filled the outer galleries. Robes shimmered, heels clicked, armor pieces gleamed.

As the Mythics entered, silence briefly followed—a wave of attention drawn to them. For once, their presence was not questioned—but respected.

A steward led them to a long obsidian dining table, polished like still water, adorned with crystal cutlery and gold-trimmed goblets. Velvet-red chairs formed a crescent around the table.

> Ravik Durn (whistling): "This table looks more expensive than my entire house."

> Tarric Vohl: "It probably is."

> Zhalya (grinning): "Careful. You scratch it, they might draft you into dish duty."

They laughed softly, admiring the elegance. Then the doors to the upper chamber swung open.

In walked King Farhan, in his royal attire, accompanied by the Council Leaders—Julious, Parche, and Rivers—each dressed in ceremonial robes. Their presence commanded silence, but their expressions bore smiles.

The King raised a brow, scanning the table.

> King Farhan (jokingly): "Wait a minute… who invited you all?"

Laughter burst from the entire hall—even some of the Apex Knights chuckled. Even Julius cracked a rare smile.

> King Farhan: "Alright, alright. You're all here. Might as well stay."

He walked toward the head of the table, taking his seat. The Council members followed and sat in their respective places near the Mythics.

> King Farhan (grinning): "But no talking yet! First—we eat. Then I'll bore you with my speeches."

Everyone laughed again, and then servants poured in, dressed in elegant uniforms, carrying platter after platter.

Steam rose from roasted meat platters—lamb spiced with crimson berries, chicken glazed with honeyfire sauce, and bowls of saffron rice. There were soft breads, fruit compotes, butter sauces, and vegetable medleys presented with artistic flair.

Seris leaned toward Yuna with wide eyes.

> Seris: "I swear, if the afterlife has food like this, I'm joining the King's guard permanently."

Yuna laughed, pouring grape juice into their goblets.

> Tharion: "I could eat this roast until next battle."

Arslan, meanwhile, glanced down the table. He saw his team laughing, Nirela smiling, and even Julius sipping tea peacefully. For once… it wasn't chaos. It was warmth.

He caught Nirela's gaze and mouthed, "thank you."

She simply nodded and whispered:

> Nirela: "You look happy."

> Arslan: "I am."