Evenings in Lakeheart Town always arrived quietly and gently, with the afterglow of the setting sun spilling across the lake and stirring up ripples of interwoven gold and crimson.
The city's most central district—the small island in the lake—was not very large, but the presence of the Lord's Manor gave it an air of solemn order.
At that moment, the Lord's Manor was brightly lit. Servants hurried through the corridors, arranging the silver tableware and crystal wineglasses one by one, while the fragrance of roasted venison and herb stew filled the air.
This was a feast prepared for the returnees—not only for Helson, but also for the dwarf envoy who had descended the mountain with him.
The long table in the center of the hall was draped in deep-red velvet. Silver candlesticks reflected the flames onto the glass chandelier, making it shimmer with a soft glow.
The table was laden with sumptuous dishes: an entire roasted leg of lamb, pheasant seasoned with rosemary and honey, heaps of fresh mushrooms and cheese, as well as jam and mead served in earthenware jars.
Servants carried steaming bowls of soup back and forth, as if the entire kitchen had been moved here.
Paul stood before the manor's entrance in a dark formal suit, his expression gentle. Behind him stood several important officials: Old Ford, whose hair was white but whose spirit remained vigorous; Hansel, who always wore a faint smile; and two officials from the Department of Intelligence—the sharp and capable Cecil, and Delson Plante standing beside him.
Derson was thin and pale, with deeply sunken eyes. An almost imperceptible fanaticism gleamed in his gaze.
He had once been a member of the Secret Art Society and had followed Mentor Odennell to Northwest Bay, intending to spy on Paul's secrets through mental magic.