The old stone paving outside the Debate Parlor had seen better days, but the plaza itself was packed with noise and laughter.
Once night fell, glintstone lamps were lit one after another. The candles on the dining tables had burned long enough for wax to spill down their holders, and beneath the warm firelight, every dish seemed coated in a sweet amber glaze.
The robe-clad sorcery nerds gathered around with plates in hand, hunting for whatever looked good. The only disappointment was the drinks. Their cups contained nothing more than sweetened water infused with berries.
Then again, what spellcaster didn't love sugar? It was one of the fastest ways to replenish the energy burned through by an overworked brain.
Even so, some people somehow managed to look tipsy. A sudden flood of sugar had sent them into such a state of excited euphoria that they might as well have been drinking.
They talked loudly and passionately, and the faces normally hidden beneath their glintstone crowns and hoods didn't always look quite so profound or cold once they were enjoying themselves.
Siegfried stood beside one of the tables with a plate in one hand and serving tongs in the other, searching for his next target.
Giant crayfish meatballs.
Now that was something worth eating.
The Giant Crayfish of the Lands Between were terrifyingly dangerous. An ordinary squad of soldiers would struggle to bring one down. They were enormous enough to rival armored wagons, frighteningly agile despite their size, absurdly strong, covered in shells hard enough to shrug off attacks, and capable of firing high-pressure jets of water with astonishing power.
They were practically apex predators.
Even the sorcerers of the Academy rarely got to enjoy something like this. Siegfried certainly hadn't tasted Giant Crayfish in many years.
Back when he was still an apprentice and the Elden Ring had yet to be shattered, he used to go hunting for them with his classmates. After killing one, they would find some sheltered spot nearby, start a fire, and roast the meat on the spot.
Almost thirty years had passed since then.
Compared with ordinary crayfish, the meat of a Giant Crayfish was firmer, springier, and almost aggressively crisp, as though it were fighting back against his teeth. The flavor was pleasantly sweet and savory, with only the faintest trace of brininess lingering afterward, and even that had been handled skillfully by the cook.
Siegfried sighed.
He had to admit that it tasted excellent.
It simply didn't taste like what he remembered.
People were strange that way. They constantly searched their memories for something that matched whatever they were experiencing in the present. Once a person reached an age when food no longer felt entirely new, memory itself became a sixth flavor beyond sweet, sour, bitter, salty, and savory.
His tongs shifted toward a platter of honey-smoked Runebear roast.
Runebears, Siegfried thought. Perhaps the most terrifying creatures nature ever saw fit to create. Let's see whether your meat lives up to your reputation.
The roast was impossibly tender, its surface lacquered with honey and the meat beneath practically falling apart. A dish like this would normally require a skilled cook and days of preparation. Only the finest banquets could offer something prepared to this standard.
This was a flavor he had never tasted before.
The muscles in Siegfried's stern, expressionless face twitched slightly.
He swallowed.
Then his sinful tongs descended.
Another pair of tongs collided with his in midair.
Both stopped directly over the same piece of meat.
Siegfried turned his head.
His gaze met Nabler's.
They both froze.
Then they offered each other equally awkward smiles, lowered their utensils, and coughed into their fists as though nothing had happened.
For several seconds, both men maintained their dignity, and neither was willing to embarrass himself by grabbing the food first.
A pair of pale hands passed right beneath the noses of the two great sorcerers and carried the entire platter away.
"Who?"
They turned toward the thief at the same time.
"Your Majesty!"
They bowed simultaneously.
Rennala, Queen of the Full Moon, had been lost in madness for so many years that many younger sorcerers and apprentices had never seen her true appearance.
She was tall and elegant, her face pale and beautiful like a moonlit winter night, her eyes gentle and serene. There was a grace about her that made it difficult to look away.
No matter how many years passed, Siegfried knew he would never forget that face.
Rennala carried a plate in her hands. Beside her floated a spectral Radagon holding the amber egg, creating a scene that somehow felt both strangely harmonious and deeply bizarre.
Rennala happily tried to feed him a bite of food.
The spirit merely smiled and shook his head.
"Fine, I'll eat it myself. Don't come asking for some later."
The almost girlish sweetness in the Queen of the Full Moon's manner only made the already surreal scene feel even stranger.
She was still a little eccentric even when perfectly lucid.
Yet no one would ever dare look down on a hero like Rennala.
The title Queen of the Full Moon had been proven on the battlefield. Long ago, she had led the Academy's forces in Liurnia against the armies of the Erdtree and stopped their advance. Her reputation had been forged through war, and few honors in the Lands Between carried greater weight for a mortal than being remembered as a hero.
Only after finishing her playful exchange with Radagon did Rennala turn back toward the two professors.
"Good evening, Professor Siegfried. Professor Nabler."
Siegfried exchanged a few polite pleasantries before steering the conversation toward the true host of tonight's banquet.
"Regarding Professor Thops's qualification review, Your Majesty, do you think perhaps we're moving a little too quickly?"
He was worried that Thops might have persuaded Rennala to support him publicly.
The Lazuli Conspectus, which studied the sorceries of the moon and Caria, was already powerful enough to stand on its own and had always firmly supported Rennala and the Carian royal family. At present, the opposing factions within the Academy were more or less balanced.
If another weight were added to one side, that balance could collapse.
Siegfried exchanged a glance with Nabler.
Neither needed to say a word.
If Rennala openly declared her support for Thops, then they would have to stop him by any means necessary.
Better to keep his research within the Academy's existing factions than allow it to become another weapon in someone else's hands.
"No. Leave it as it is."
Rennala walked away immediately after saying that.
She really had come here just to eat.
The two professors remained standing there, silently overanalyzing everything she had just said.
Meanwhile, Thops was busy entertaining guests.
He was terrible at this sort of thing.
Fortunately, Academy sorcerers were terrible at socializing in general. For most of them, the highest form of courtesy was simply making eye contact and giving someone a nod.
The entire Academy was practically one enormous gathering of socially awkward academics.
A few elderly sorcerers did pull Thops aside for a longer conversation.
"Young man, your theories have been underestimated. The Academy isn't some perfect sanctuary. If you want to succeed here, talent and hard work won't be enough. You also need the courage to keep moving forward no matter what stands in your way. Do you understand?"
"I'll keep trying," Thops answered, not entirely sure what they were getting at.
The old sorcerers exchanged looks and smiled helplessly.
"You really don't understand, do you? Look carefully at the people beneath those crowns and hoods. Some sorcerers here can no longer tolerate the existence of new ideas. But they're still cowards. You need real friends. You need more apprentices. If enough of you stand together, it becomes much harder for anyone to knock you down."
"My friends are very dependable."
Thops rubbed his bald head and grinned.
"Good. Then keep going. We'll be waiting for the day you stand before everyone in the Debate Parlor."
Skyl was carrying a plate of his own.
Little Moli followed beside him, though she was sitting in a wheelchair. The Juvenile Scholar's legs were too weak to support her, leaving her unable to stand or walk. Normally, she moved around by crawling like a baby.
"What do you want?" Skyl deliberately asked in a lukewarm tone.
"This one, this one... and that one."
Moli kept choosing food until her plate was piled into a small mountain.
"Greedy little monster."
Skyl laughed despite the insult and helped secure the little tray in front of her wheelchair.
"I wouldn't have guessed you actually liked children."
A cool female voice came from beside him.
Skyl turned.
The first thing that entered his vision was an elegant, old-fashioned white robe.
He had to raise his gaze slightly before he could see Ranni's face.
Ranni was an Empyrean whose soul now inhabited a pale blue doll body. The body itself was rather small, but she disliked having to look up at other people.
That was why, whenever she appeared somewhere, she was either sitting atop a wall or perched on a chair with several thick books stacked beneath her.
Yet right now, Skyl actually had to tilt his head upward to look at her.
"Are you seriously wearing stilts?"
Ranni swayed slightly atop the stilts, then effortlessly regained her balance.
She looked down upon everyone around her from above.
This felt much better.
Apparently, she had decided that people on Earth had invented something surprisingly useful. Her doll body had four arms, after all. Two could hold the stilts while the other two remained completely free.
"Get down from there. You're making me nervous."
Skyl knew exactly what she was like, so he conjured a floating magical platform for Ranni to ride instead.
"When did you arrive in the Lands Between?"
Ranni paused.
"Never mind. I don't want to know."
Her voice revealed neither happiness nor anger, but Skyl suspected she was irritated.
"I heard you joined the Academy. And apparently you've encountered a little... trouble."
The implication was obvious.
You should have come to me for help.
But someone as stubbornly proud as Ranni would never say that directly.
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