Ascension of the Forsaken Genius

Chapter 20: The Grand Banquet Begins

The towering gates of the Imperial Palace loomed ahead, a structure of unparalleled majesty. Crafted from celestial marble and reinforced with runic engravings, the palace stood as a testament to Ardentia’s dominance. At its peak, an enormous crimson phoenix insignia burned against the night sky, flickering with contained divine energy—the royal family’s symbol of authority.

 

Beyond these gates, only the most powerful and influential could step foot.

 

Noble heirs, sect representatives, foreign dignitaries, and elite cultivators had all gathered, each vying for status, recognition, or hidden ambitions. No commoner, regardless of wealth, could enter unless they had proven strength.

 

Sylas approached the palace entrance, his gaze sharp as he observed the line of carriages and guards escorting dukes, marquises, and counts through the grand archway.

 

Inside the banquet hall, a colossal golden chandelier, embedded with floating spirit gems, illuminated the space, casting soft light upon marble pillars sculpted with ancient battles. The hall was vast—large enough to accommodate a thousand guests—yet, every individual here carried a name worth remembering.

 

Seated according to their rank, the hierarchy was evident:

 

The Dukes and their heirs sat closest to the throne, alongside the royal family’s direct relatives.

 

The Marquises and Counts occupied the middle rows.

 

Sect representatives and powerful wandering cultivators were granted seats based on merit rather than birthright.

 

Foreign emissaries from allied kingdoms held distinct positions, their very presence a reflection of Ardentia’s diplomatic standing.

 

 

The conversations were hushed yet calculated, each word a potential shift in power.

 

Among the arriving nobles, Duke Aldreth’s faction entered with quiet confidence. Sylas’s older brothers, dressed in refined robes embroidered with House Aldreth’s sigil, took their places among the ducal heirs. Though Sylas himself had not been assigned a seat among them, he followed their entrance discreetly, choosing to observe rather than demand a place.

 

The night was not about proving status but gathering information.

 

Across the hall, a stir of whispers arose.

 

A melodic chime rang through the air.

 

The room fell into absolute silence.

 

At the head of the hall, seated atop an elevated dais beneath the Phoenix Crest, the Imperial Family made their entrance.

 

King Hadrian Ardentia, draped in robes woven with threads of fire-gold, carried an air of unquestionable authority. His mere presence seemed to distort the surrounding energy, a silent reminder of his dominance as a ruler and cultivator.

 

Beside him sat Queen Lysara, her aura serene yet formidable, adorned in silken attire that shimmered like moonlight reflecting upon water.

 

The royal children followed, each a symbol of noble supremacy.

 

Crown Prince Valerian Ardentia—a figure of unmatched prestige, possessing a talent so overwhelming that many considered him the future of the empire. His fire energy pulsed invisibly, yet all could feel its weight.

 

Princess Seraphina Ardentia, known for her grace and political acumen, bore a gaze that concealed far more than her delicate appearance suggested.

 

Prince Cassian Ardentia, the youngest but no less dangerous, observed the crowd with the sharp curiosity of a predator.

 

 

As they took their seats, the king's golden gaze swept across the hall, and with a mere motion of his hand, the banquet officially began.

 

Plates of exotic beast meat, spiritual fruits that radiated essence, and wines brewed with energy rich herbs were served, each dish designed not just for taste but for enhancing cultivation.

 

Yet, while the banquet itself was a display of wealth, the true battles were fought with words and alliances.

 

At one end of the hall, Duke Galveric, a staunch supporter of the king, laughed heartily as he engaged in a strategic discussion with the Minister of War.

 

Elsewhere, sect leaders spoke in hushed tones, their interests veiled beneath pleasantries.

 

Sylas kept his distance, ears tuned to conversations, his mind weaving together the threads of power and influence. He noted:

 

Duke Deren’s heir, Lucien, had positioned himself close to the Crown Prince. A potential alliance?

 

Countess Valen was actively engaging with visiting dignitaries from the Aetherian Kingdom, hinting at foreign involvement.

 

The Phoenix Sect’s Grand Elder, a foreign guest from a mid tier kingdom remained silent but had not taken his eyes off the king. A hidden agenda?

 

 

And then, amidst the carefully curated atmosphere, the king spoke.

 

His voice carried effortlessly, commanding attention.

 

“Tonight, we celebrate not only our kingdom's strength but the future we build together. In the coming months, trials will test the worth of the next generation. Those who prove themselves will earn the right to shape the world.”

 

A ripple of anticipation and ambition spread through the crowd.

 

This was more than a banquet.

 

It was a declaration.

 

A challenge to the next generation—one that only the truly worthy could answer.

 

And Sylas?

 

He watched, listened, and prepared.