Chapter 402: The Banquet Begins

Chapter 402: Chapter 402: The Banquet Begins

Ironhide glanced at the "Jelly Fountain" he had just moved.

Then he looked at the delicate little pastries on the long table.

His gaze began to turn a little dangerous.

He seemed to be pondering how he could replenish some of his own Energy without getting caught.

Seraphina, on the other hand, was impressed by Clayton Quinn’s resourcefulness.

To survive here, you not only had to deal with the obvious dangers and missions, but you also had to know how to take advantage of the environment’s perks.

"Oh, right," Seraphina said as if she had just remembered something, turning to Ironhide. "Where’s Joy Hughes? Why haven’t I seen her? What position is she being evaluated for?"

Ironhide snapped out of his thoughts and replied.

"Oh, Miss Hughes. She’s in the back hall getting ready. She’s a concert pianist!

I never would’ve guessed she had a hidden talent like that."

’A concert pianist?’

Seraphina was lost in thought.

The position suited Joy Hughes’s ethereal and delicate temperament quite well.

’As expected of a Beloved of the God of Sweet Dreams, always able to find a suitable role for herself.’

"The banquet is about to start," Ironhide said, looking at the growing number of strange people at the hall’s entrance, a worried expression on his face.

"What do you guys think," Ironhide began, swallowing the food scraps in his mouth and lowering his voice even more.

His voice was almost a whisper. "When do you think the Nightmare God’s minions will show up? And how? How... are we supposed to deal with them?"

Clayton Quinn slowly shook his head, his brow furrowed deeply, his eyes revealing a rare mix of confusion and gravity.

"This instance... is completely different from the ones we’ve experienced before."

His voice was low, each word seeming to be forced through clenched teeth.

"There’s no overwhelming zombie horde, no clear monster spawn points, no survival countdown with dwindling resources... there isn’t even the sense of urgency that comes with a day-night cycle.

All our past apocalypse survival experience, here," he paused, emphasizing his point.

"seems completely useless.

We don’t even know what the enemy looks like, where they’ll come from, or how they’ll attack. We know nothing."

It was a terrible feeling.

They were like gladiators thrown into an arena blindfolded.

Forced to passively wait for their opponents to appear.

Then, they would have to rely on instinct and limited clues to intercept, fight, and complete the mission.

It seemed the initiative was not in their hands.

"But," Ironhide said, licking the cream from his fingers, trying to dispel the gloom in his heart with a practical upside.

"At least before the banquet officially starts, we can... fill our stomachs first."

As he spoke, he swiftly and stealthily swiped a small cheesecake from the edge of a passing waiter’s tray.

He stuffed the whole thing into his mouth, his cheeks bulging as he mumbled a complaint.

"Ugh, if this stupid instance didn’t restrict the use of spatial items, my dimensional pocket could definitely clear out half the good stuff here!

You have no idea how hard it is to find any normal food outside now..."

He glanced around at the long tables, which were laden with a dazzling array of food.

They were piled high with delicacies that could only be described as a dream in this apocalyptic era.

His eyes held both satisfaction and deep regret.

"This place is great in every way, and the food is more than you can eat. The only bad thing... is that you can’t take it with you.

It’s just like a dream. When you wake up, it’s all gone." ℯℯ𝑙.

Clayton Quinn nodded silently, clearly sharing the sentiment.

In a world where famine and scarcity were the norm, facing such a feast without being able to take anything away was its own kind of cruelty.

While listening to the two men’s hushed conversation, Seraphina’s eyes scanned the entire banquet hall like radar.

Guests continued to arrive, and the atmosphere gradually warmed. The air was filled with a complex mixture of perfume, food, and fine wine. The clamor of laughter and conversation was like a warm tide, almost enough to drown a person in this false sense of peace.

Suddenly, her gaze locked onto the area near the piano in the distance.

A familiar figure had appeared next to Joy Hughes—Eureka.

The elegant, glowing gentleman.

He was currently leaning over slightly, speaking in a low voice to Joy Hughes, who was seated at the piano bench.

The distance was too great to hear what they were saying, but Seraphina could clearly see that on Joy Hughes’s originally calm, even somewhat distant face, an expression of unconcealable shock had suddenly appeared. Her pupils constricted, and her lips parted slightly, as if she wanted to confirm something.

’Eureka... he’s definitely not ordinary.’

Seraphina mulled it over, her earlier suspicion that he was the Avatar of the God of Sweet Dreams resurfacing in her mind.

’I have to know what they’re talking about. It might be the key to uncovering the core secret of this instance.’

She subtly adjusted her stance, preparing to use the other guests as cover to move a few steps closer in that direction.

However, just as the tip of her foot began to move—

"His Majesty the King, Her Majesty the Queen, and Her Highness Princess Truffles, have arrived—!"

A loud, drawn-out announcement, like an invisible conductor’s baton, instantly captured the entire room’s attention.

The scattered conversations came to an abrupt halt.

All the guests, whether they were nobles, wealthy merchants, or artists, turned in unison.

They faced the magnificent staircase at the front of the hall, which was covered with a scarlet carpet and adorned with giant peach hearts and golden ribbons. Each wore their most proper smile, their eyes glinting with various emotions.

"The banquet is about to officially begin!" announced Madame Spider, her voice filled with passion.

A wave of enthusiastic applause surged like a tide, quickly flooding every corner of the hall.

The previously somewhat relaxed atmosphere was instantly replaced by a programmed yet highly infectious jubilation.

The guests from all walks of life jostled forward, eager to catch a glimpse of the royal family, which also meant that Seraphina had lost her chance to quietly approach the piano.

She could only suppress her urgency for the time being and follow the crowd’s gaze.

The first to appear were the King and Queen, dressed in extremely grand attire and wearing brilliant crowns. They descended the stairs slowly with standard, reserved smiles, waving to the crowd.

But soon, almost everyone’s gaze, including Seraphina’s, was captivated by the figure following closely behind them—Princess Truffles.

Or rather, captivated by the "shockingly unconventional" gown the princess was wearing.

It was none other than the creation into which Lamb had poured his heart and soul, a fusion of the so-called "highest craftsmanship and aesthetics of the Peach Kingdom."

Under the glow of the brilliant crystal chandeliers, every "gem," every sequin, and every thread of gold and silver on the gown frantically reflected and refracted the light.

As the princess moved, she looked like a living, madly spinning Disco Ball.

It emitted a form of light pollution that was almost violent, so dazzling it made one’s eyes blur and head spin.

Seraphina even heard a guest beside her let out an extremely quiet gasp.

Or a suppressed, choked-off cough.

The light was so "blinding" it was almost impossible to look at directly, blurring the princess’s already round silhouette into a moving ball of light.