Along both banks of Salavia, delicious dishes from every major civilization had already been laid out. The dining tables stretched for a full hundred meters. Logically, with so much food gathered together, their aromas should have mingled into a confusing mess, making them less appetizing. Yet no one knew what the chefs had done—the fragrances remained concentrated without dispersing, drifting without scattering. With every step, one could still catch a distinct scent. Rather than ruining one another, the various delicacies complemented each other perfectly.
Declaring submission should have been a depressing matter, yet smiles were beginning to appear on the faces of the leaders of the major civilizations, as though they had already emerged from the shadow of surrender. In truth, whether the Zerg, as a Level Five civilization, ruled the Alvin region or the Alvin Civilization continued to govern it, all that changed for them was whom they paid tribute to.
Following Alvin meant that Alvin would requisition their warriors and warships during battle. Following the Zerg meant that the Zerg simply did not think much of their combat power. From that perspective, following the Zerg seemed even more beneficial to their development than following Alvin.
Everyone present was a capable figure with calculations in their heads and schemes in their bellies. Whether they truly wished to submit or not, in front of Ye Luo, they had to look pleased—had to look happy. So, whether they had accepted it or not, the smiles on their faces were still rather enthusiastic.
Everyone had already followed Ye Luo to the dining table, while Owen alone stood there blankly staring at the sky.
The corners of Ye Luo's lips lifted as he said softly, "Your Highness Owen, are you a warrior of the werewolf race? Can you fill your stomach just by