The Forsaken Hero
Chapter 120: Viriden banquet

Chapter 120: Viriden banquet

The banquet fell short of the opulent feasts provided by the Divine Throne, yet I found myself at home in the warm, welcoming atmosphere. The Viriden locals had poured their hearts into both the food and the entertainment, and I found myself entranced by the lively folk music played by their talented musicians. It was a gathering where Lord Griffon had opened the doors to commoners, transcending the typical exclusivity of noble events. This wasn’t just a matter of practicality, as cities seldom boasted enough high-class attendees for a banquet, but ran deeper. The genuine affection in everyone’s eyes for Lord Griffon was palpable.

As Fyren had promised, I felt rather popular with the young men. I was only partway through my fifteenth year, yet that was already past the cusp of adulthood, leaving me susceptible to all sorts of advances. Following the adventurer’s counsel, I gently rebuffed their approaches, finding their efforts almost endearing. It puzzled me how I could be both despised and admired in different parts of Enusia. The remote nature of Viriden and its distance from the Divine Throne likely played a role, and it left me wondering about the prejudices interwoven with culture in other countries. Would they be the same, united by the church, or hold their own hatreds?

As the banquet neared its end, Lord Griffon rose to his feet, drawing the attention of everyone in the hall with his noble presence. A faint smile touched his lips as he raised his glass for a toast.

"To the heroes who have given their all to safeguard our world. In celebration of our triumph over the demons, and to honor their presence among us, I declare tomorrow a citywide festivity. Soltair, the Sun Hero, has accepted the challenge of several of our most formidable knights. They’ll engage in a contest at the festival grounds beyond the city walls. It’s a rare opportunity to witness one of our world’s heroes in action, so I encourage all of you to attend."

Silence fell upon the hall as excited whispers spread. Lord Griffon resumed his seat, his gaze now filled with anticipation as he glanced at me. I nodded in response, suppressing the flutter of nerves within my stomach. Drawing a slow breath, I summoned my mana, finding solace in the familiar, seductive warmth that enveloped my soul. Regardless of what the morrow might bring, I was determined to enjoy tonight.

"What’s the challenge match all about?" Fyren inquired, his curiosity mirrored in my own thoughts. Lord Griffon hadn’t mentioned this earlier.

Soltair chuckled, leaning back and relaxing in his chair. "It’s more of an exhibition match, really. Many of the soldiers kept pestering me about my skills, begging me to teach them and whatnot. So I decided, ’Why not?’ and here we are."

"Is it dangerous for them?" I wondered aloud.

Soltair shook his head, his grin widening. "Not at all. I won’t be using spells or advanced techniques. Just enough to showcase my swordplay and entertain the audience. I’ll keep it simple so even the newest recruit can learn from my skills."

"Don’t get too overconfident," Fyren cautioned. "Honestly, your actual swordsmanship is on par with a recruit. You’ve only had a year to practice the sword, which is a fraction of the experience of any hardened veteran."

"I know, I know," Soltair lamented. "Isn’t that why we’re training?"

Fyren nodded briefly, seemingly satisfied with the response. "Exactly. Just don’t let your fame go to your head. You’re the Sun Hero, not a mere performer."

Trithe leaned forward, steering the conversation toward me. "I overheard some servants discussing peculiar orders they received. Something related to you, Xiviyah."

I explained, "I requested Lord Griffon to arrange something for me. I wanted an opportunity to test some of my newly acquired spells."

"Is that all?" She pressed further. "It sounded like something of greater magnitude than healing a few cripples. Why all the secrecy?"

"To be honest," I admitted, "I’m not certain if it will succeed, so I didn’t want to raise expectations too high. There’s no need to give them another reason to be disappointed in the Fate Hero."

"Have some confidence," Fyren exclaimed, patting me on the shoulder. "If Soltair can flaunt his paltry skills, surely you’re more than qualified when it comes to magic."

"Hey!" Soltair protested, "I’m not that bad. I’ve killed two demons, remember?"

"Two? Wasn’t it just one?" Fyren arched an eyebrow inquisitively.

Soltair rolled his eyes, his tone filled with exasperation. "The Flame Commander and the Shadow Demon, don’t you recall? Honestly, your memory must be older than you let on."

"Oh, right, the Flame Commander," Fyren muttered, suddenly stumbling over his words. "Yes, I must have forgotten."

"Whatever," Soltair huffed. "As long as you know."

While the conversation moved on, I couldn’t help but notice a small, relieved sigh escaping Fyren’s lips. He idly toyed with the golden chain around his neck but abruptly stopped when he caught my gaze. With a gentle, teasing smile, he looked away as if nothing had happened.

Had the adventurer truly forgotten about the Flame Commander? Considering it was the first gate in Enusia where we met, I found it hard to believe. Could it have been a slip of the tongue? But if that were the case, it implied that the true demon ruling that gate was...

My fork clattered onto the table, drawing everyone’s attention. My face reddened, and I waved their concerned inquiries away before hiding my trembling hands in my lap. Was that monstrous entity still lurking out there? Why hadn’t we heard of the real Flame Commander wreaking havoc in the city? Had my vision been accurate all along? I’d been ignoring the singed grass and other evidence, yet they all poured into my mind at once.

"Fyren," I began, my voice shaky, nervous about broaching the topic but unable to restrain my questions.

"Now’s not the time," he said, giving me a meaningful look. "I told you, I’ll answer all of your questions later."

"But there might be a demon-"

"Xiviyah, please, you have to trust me," Fyren implored softly. "I can’t jeopardize my mission right now. I promise the time will come, just not now."

"What mission?" Soltair asked, confusion coloring his face. Although Fyren had kept his voice down, the Sun Hero’s abilities gave him senses as keen as my own.

Fyren sighed, his frustration evident, and gave me a sharp look. "I was sent here by higher powers to train you. I’m sorry, but even revealing this much is risky."

"Higher powers?" Trithe echoed, her expression pensive. "But why wouldn’t the gods communicate this to the Pope?"

"Hey, it’s all right. Secret missions are par for the course," Soltair interjected, a wide grin on his face as he flashed Fyren a thumbs-up. "Just promise us a thorough debrief afterward. And take us along on any daring assignments."

We all turned to look at Soltair, and I couldn’t shake the feeling that he had misconstrued the situation. Nevertheless, Fyren clearly had no intention of divulging more, and pressing him further would only strain our relationship. So, I held my tongue. I had already lost enough without actively driving people away.

And so, with countless questions swirling in my mind, the banquet drew to a close. Soltair and Trithe departed first, heading in the same direction. I overheard a few whispered words from the maids attending them, and it appeared they were sharing a room.

Disregarding the unwelcome information, I allowed Fyren to escort me back to my chamber. Part of me hesitated to leave the festive atmosphere of the banquet, but Lord Griffon had begun dismissing the guests.

"Xiviyah, do you trust me?" Fyren asked as we ascended a staircase leading to the upper levels of the keep.

I gazed at him, taken aback by the gravity in his eyes. Did I trust him? "I suppose I trust you more than most," I replied after a moment. "No, perhaps even more than that."

"I see. Then please, don’t ask about my background again. When the time is right, I’ll share everything with you."

I wondered why he felt compelled to reiterate that, but this time, his words carried a deeper sincerity.

"Why me?" I blurted out suddenly, surprising even myself with the question.

He raised an eyebrow, studying me for a moment before answering, "Potential."

With that, we reached my room. Fyren bid me goodnight and left, leaving me to contemplate his words. My magical powers were formidable, yet nearly useless in the impending war. I could overpower those weaker than me, like the guards at High Valley, but my curse and slave crest made me a liability. The only potential I knew of was the blessing bestowed upon me by Fate when I was summoned.

Did it merely grant me the abilities I possessed now?

As the night wore on, I forced myself to relax and drift into sleep. I already had enough worries of the days to come without delving into the enigmatic motives of the adventurer. As soon as tomorrow, I had arranged the greatest magical trial I had yet to undertake.

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