The banquet hall blazed with light, resplendent in gold.
High in the soaring dome, chandeliers lit by hundreds of magic crystals illuminated the entire hall.
Tapestries woven with gold thread hung all around, each embroidered with the Firth Family's crest.
Silk tablecloths covered the long tables, with silverware and glass goblets neatly arranged.
Servants stationed along the walls came and went with platters of food.
The scent of meat and wine filled the air.
The dishes themselves were outrageously lavish.
Roasted Snow Mountain Demon Deer sizzled with fat beneath its golden skin, while entire racks of Snowrock Bear ribs were brought to the tables, their thick meat piled like little mountains on silver platters...
There was also the wine so beloved by southern nobles, a rarity in the north, yet here it flowed endlessly into crystal goblets.
Such extravagance was rarely seen even at castle banquets held by southern nobles, let alone in the Northern Frontier.
It offered a glimpse of the Firth Family's deep reserves as a long-established noble house of the Northern Frontier.
Yet this very extravagance seemed particularly jarring in the bitterly cold, resource-starved Northern Frontier.
Before the banquet had even begun, many local nobles were already frowning.
Count Firth sat at the head of the table, looking like a perfectly round ball of flesh.
A gold-threaded silk robe enveloped his bulky body, its collar slightly open, with an oily sheen running from his forehead down to his chest.
His hands rested casually on the chair's armrests, magic crystal rings crowding all ten fingers and squeezing his knuckles red.
He was chuckling like a drunken pig, his laughter echoing through the hall.
"Lord Firth, your brilliance is truly heaven-sent! The Northern Frontier will surely prosper under you!"
"Without your protection, my lord, minor nobles like us would