From sailboats to star destroyers (Source: Web)

Chapter 48 A Noble Banquet

The glow of the setting sun streamed through the stained-glass windows, adding a vibrant splash of color to the entire hall. Golden champagne swirled in silver glasses, and the air was filled with the rich aroma of rose essential oil and roasted venison.

Miao Meng stood alone in the shadows by the arched window, his fingertips unconsciously stroking the cold hilt of the Wind Sword.

In his opinion, this kind of aristocratic banquet was nothing special, not even as lively as a buffet in a high-end hotel.

"Distinguished friends, welcome to the grand feast I have prepared."

Count Grylls' booming voice suddenly drowned out the clamor in the hall. He stood in front of the dais covered with scarlet velvet, and his hands, marked by the passage of time, clapped three times crisply, drawing everyone's attention.

His voice carried just the right amount of intimacy and authority as his gaze slowly swept across the room. "Please allow me the honor of introducing a young talent who has come from afar."

He turned to the side, his arm outstretched, pointing towards Miao Meng in the shadows. "Black Knight, Sir Lionel Roberts."

The count turned to Miao Meng, his smile seeming more genuine, and took the initiative to reach out and pull him along.

"Leo, please forgive me for addressing this promising young man in this way. He is not only of noble lineage, but also a highly learned alchemy master."

He paused deliberately, letting the words "Master of Alchemy" create ripples in the suddenly quiet hall.

"Tonight, he will share with us some precious gifts from the ocean of wisdom."

Miao Meng walked forward, facing dozens of scrutinizing gazes. His dark blue, almost black velvet coat gleamed faintly in the candlelight.

He didn't care whether the name was 'Lionel Roberts' or 'Leo'.

The former is simply a transliteration of "Miao Meng" in the local language, while the latter is a nickname for "Lionel." Like his true name in his ship girl form, both are merely parts of Barça Roberts.

A name is just a label. Whether he's called Miao Meng or Lionel, it doesn't matter; after all, he is himself.

However, when the name Roberts was mentioned among the crowd, it was like a stone thrown into a deep pool; the whispers immediately intensified.

"Roberts? The one from Herest?"

"Bartholomew Roberts of West Limit City? He has descendants?"

"Didn't they say? That fire back then..."

"Shh, look at his sword!"

The Sword of Wind hung quietly at Miao Meng's waist, a faint blue aura swirling around it, more convincing than any words.

Those skeptical and astonished gazes mostly turned into acceptance or deep apprehension when they touched this seemingly living weapon.

Earl Gerry observed all of this, a subtle, enigmatic smile playing on his lips.

He had already sent people to investigate the noble lineage—the fall of the Roberts family in Herrest and the possible exile of their orphans, the timeline of which coincided perfectly with the boy before him.

The existence of the Sword of Wind is the most powerful, silent proof, but he temporarily suppressed this connection, as if hiding a trump card that had not yet been played.

An orphan possessing alchemy skills and the powerful reputation of Xixian City is worth far more than a single banquet.

It would be far more advantageous to appease him, or even bring him into the family through a marriage alliance, than to expose him now.

"Gentlemen," the count spoke again, suppressing the subtle murmurs.

"His Excellency Leo not only comes from a family with profound learning, but is also deeply devoted to the exploration of alchemy. Today's banquet serves two purposes: first, to introduce this young talent; secondly..."

He clapped his hands, and the waiters responded by filing in one after another, carrying silver platters covered with brocade.

"Now, I would like to invite you to appreciate some of Lord Leo's research findings, some little gadgets that contain wondrous powers."

When the brocade was lifted, what was revealed was not dazzling jewelry, but the carefully selected goods that Miao Meng had brought out at the manor a few days ago.

Although they were merely scraps from copies or half-finished products for practice, they shimmered with a mysterious allure, like something out of a new continent, in the eyes of local nobles and wealthy merchants.

The atmosphere at the banquet quickly warmed up, with reserve being replaced by curiosity, and tentative inquiries rising one after another.

With the Black Earl's discreet assistance, Miao Meng used concise language to introduce the "characteristics" of each item—avoiding complex principles and emphasizing only the effects and novelty.

Count Gerry sat firmly in the main seat, watching as one after another, alchemical items were snapped up, calculating the intangible profits in his mind.

His endorsement, not for a small commission, but by linking Leo Roberts' debut with his own reputation, was a strategic move in the turbulent game of the kingdom.

Moreover, what has been leaked is merely an appetizer; what he truly desires is the core technology that this young alchemist might possess, a technology powerful enough to influence the overall situation.

After everyone had eaten and drunk their fill, the banquet was halfway through, but that didn't mean everyone would stay in the hall any longer.

Count Gerry rose again, this time taking the hand of his little granddaughter, Sherry, who had been standing quietly by his side.

Her golden hair flowed like sunlight, her bright golden eyes were pure and clear, and the small, exquisite red antler-shaped divine blood battle marks on her forehead added a touch of inhuman divinity to her delicate face.

"Shirley, my jewel." The count's voice was filled with undisguised doting as he gently pushed the girl toward Miao Meng's side.

"Go and have a talk with Lord Leo. His insights into alchemy and mathematics will surely benefit you greatly."

A blood concentration of fifty is considered dazzling among the new generation of the Gray family.

He had a clear plan in mind: if Shirley could win Leo's favor, regardless of whether the marriage would take place, this closeness would be a strong bond between the family and the alchemist.

If that doesn't work out, a knighthood title and a granddaughter with pure divine blood would still be a generous gift to show goodwill.

Shirley tilted her head slightly, curiously sizing up Miao Meng, and gracefully performed an impeccable ladylike bow while lifting her skirt.

While it represents elegant etiquette, it's still somewhat inappropriate for children to use it.

"Sir Black Knight," she said in a clear, bell-like voice, pointing to the brass lantern on the waiter's tray, her question getting straight to the point.

"Grandfather said you can make even the hardest stone shine and make metal whisper. Can you tell me, what is the 'heart' of that lamp that doesn't burn with a flame?"

To others, Shirley was indeed as beautiful as a fairy from a forest legend; her ageless elegance and divine radiance were enough to captivate anyone.

But in Miao Meng's eyes, the curiosity and innocence on that young face clashed violently with his instinctive understanding.

This has nothing to do with lust; it's more like a taboo alarm rooted in the instincts of civilization.

He took a half step back without making a sound, and turned slightly to the side, so that the tall figure of the Black Earl naturally separated him from the girl.

"Miss Shirley," the Black Earl bowed slightly, his voice deep and melodious, carrying the rhythm of the sea breeze rustling through the old ship's railing.

"The core of that lamp concerns the stable binding and activation circuit of the element of light. The principle is subtle and can be explained by starting with the basic elemental runes."

Perhaps we can start with the more intuitive "Frost Touch"?

He skillfully took over the conversation, and with a flick of his wrist, a short, rune-inscribed staff shrouded in a faint white mist appeared in his palm, the chill condensing into tiny ice crystals in the warm air.

Miao Meng took the opportunity to briefly detach himself. He maintained a calm demeanor, but his gaze involuntarily drifted to a corner of the banquet hall.