The banquet continued. Shadows occasionally passed through the dim room, and the people around him talked. He could hear indistinct murmurs, yet however carefully he listened, he could not make out what they said.
It was as though he had gone underwater, the noise outside separated by a barrier, thick and murky.
Elliot silently watched everything around him, then lowered his gaze to the slices of meat on his plate.
In the order of a formal dinner, this plate of meat was an appetizer.
The night was still long, and the revelry had no end.
Honestly, it was not bloody, and even carried a certain elegance.
The "meat" that believed it had lived out an entire lifetime might not even feel any pain. The world outside might be worse still.
But Elliot simply felt disgusted and nauseated.
His gaze swept over the nobles at the table.
They smiled as they put slices of meat into their mouths, their expressions delighted and entranced.
They were not necessarily savoring the stories and adventures within. That feeling of standing high above others, toying with their fates at will, was the true fine wine.
Elliot narrowed his eyes slightly.
An inner door suddenly opened, and a procession of attendants entered. They carried no plates or food, but brought people instead.
Some were old, some were still youths, and there were both men and women.
Elliot glanced over their clothing. Most were dressed simply, and some wore clothes covered in patches. One was dressed like a young noblewoman, but the worn, unraveling lace at the edges betrayed a hint of straitened circumstances.
The attendants brought them to the nobles one by one.
Elliot glanced at the person beside him. It was a girl, small and thin, trembling all over, but still doing her best to