Chapter 842 — The Dragonkin

"I pay my respects to you, Emperor of Cecil; I pay my respects to you, knight among knights, pioneer among pioneers... founder of the old nation of Ans and the new nation of Cecil," Sir Golosh said solemnly, showing not the slightest excess of curiosity or prying toward this "Pioneer" who was a legend in the human world and had even worked the miracle of rising from death. A long string of titles and standard formal phrases came readily to his lips. "I bring the greetings of the ruler of the Far Northern Mountains, guardian of the Dragonkin nation, lord of rock and ice and snow... the mighty and wise Grand Duke of Dragon Blood, His Majesty Bayang'er, along with the friendly intentions of the Holy Dragon Duchy."

"Welcome to Cecil," Gao Yang replied, far more simply and directly. "Cecil and the Holy Dragon Duchy have always been close neighbors. We forever welcome visitors from the Far Northern Mountains."

At the same time he felt a touch of surprise—it had been a long while since he had heard such standard opening remarks, with their long string of honorific titles and flattering formalities. This Dragonkin envoy came from a world cut off from human nations for many years, yet his choice of words was unexpectedly quite in the ancient human style.

It seemed that in the distant north, many Dragonkin's impressions of humanity were still stuck in the Ans era of the past.

—To prevent any clash of etiquette and culture, and to ensure the ceremony proceeded properly, the envoys had already familiarized themselves with some of Cecil's etiquette before coming to Xuanyao City, having adapted in advance to the audience procedures with Victoria's help. Yet though the procedures had been rehearsed beforehand, the envoys' words of audience had been drafted by the Holy Dragon Duchy itself (Duchess Victoria had merely confirmed that nothing in these phrases violated any taboo).

And now, certain turns of phrase in these rather classical words even gave Gao Yang a feeling of not knowing whether to laugh or cry.

Of course, his outward expression remained calm and placid, revealing nothing.

Having presented the letter of state, completed the necessary audience ceremonies and mutual introductions, and gone through all the agreed procedures, Gao Yang did not subject the guests who had come from afar to any further endless formalities, but went directly to the main feature of Cecil-style hospitality—declaring the banquet open.

As dazzling dishes were laid before the guests, as light and pleasing melodies echoed through the hall, and as attendants began guiding the guests to their seats, Sir Golosh drew close to Asharena and could not resist murmuring: "Though I learned something of it in advance, the etiquette of the 'Cecil Empire' still seems much simpler than I imagined... not at all like the human nations described in the records, with their countless rules and elaborate ceremonies."

Asharena tilted her head slightly and glanced at Sir Golosh: "So do you prefer simple procedures, my lord, or elaborate rules?"

Sir Golosh smiled faintly at that: "Personally, I of course prefer this—simple and straightforward dealings suit my taste better."

Asharena smiled, but said no more.

In her impression, humans were fond of using elaborate and convoluted etiquette and rules to display their own "orthodoxy" and "depth," and this was very different from the dragonborn. Though the dragonborn also valued tradition and adhered to rules, theirs was more a respect for tradition and an "obedience" to ancient teachings, whereas the human insistence on etiquette and rules appeared in dragonborn eyes as an utterly unnecessary "external adornment"—rather than having any practical meaning, it was more like sticking decorative feathers all over one's body, etiquette for etiquette's sake, rules for rules' sake.

It was precisely this understanding that led the dragonborn to harbor considerable prejudice toward the human world for a long time: in their view, a race with such short lifespans yet an excessive pursuit of "orthodoxy" and "depth" only appeared incongruous and absurd.

Ashalena had never imagined that in merely twenty years, humans could have already changed in this regard.

A figure surfaced in her mind—a young, dashing yet devil-may-care mercenary leader, and then this figure transformed into a general with poorly groomed beard, his body draped with medals and sashes.

And it had only been twenty years.

Humans... truly were an interesting species.

The banquet began.

Once the time came for free movement and conversation, the guests began to circulate among the tables, taking food and chatting with one another. Sir Golosh naturally went first to approach the Cecile Emperor, while Ashalena, with a touch of curiosity, wandered casually about the hall.

Her role as "advisor" was meant to come into play later, when the materials were being analyzed; at this moment, however, she was quite at leisure.

Amid taking various human delicacies she recognized or did not recognize, and chatting casually with those who passed by, a small figure suddenly darted past nearby.

It was a girl in a pale yellow dress who looked not yet of age, holding a large platter piled high with food, a happy smile on her face as she ran merrily from one long table laden with food to another.

Ashalena instinctively frowned—a child?

She was curious why a child would appear here, but soon realized this must be the offspring of some member of the imperial family or high-ranking official. The sight of the girl running about with a plate piled high with food seemed utterly at odds with the "atmosphere" of everyone else in the hall, yet it made Ashalena unable to suppress a smile.

And just then, she saw the cheerful girl's foot suddenly slip—she seemed to have lost her balance while running—and it looked as though she was about to fall clumsily to the ground.

Without any change in expression, Ashalena slightly raised a finger, and an invisible force lifted the girl's body, quickly steadying her on her feet again.

It was merely a casual act of assistance, and no one should have noticed. Ashalena shook her head with a smile and was about to turn and walk away, but she never expected that the girl in the pale yellow dress would immediately look over and start walking toward her.

This child's perception of magical power was remarkably keen!

Just as this exclamation rose in Ashalena's heart, the girl had already come to stand before her. She bowed politely, and without opening her mouth, a slightly mechanical voice came from somewhere behind her neck: "Thank you~ ma'am~~"

"It's... nothing," Ashalena said, looking at the girl before her in surprise. She was certain she had not seen the child open her mouth to speak. "You... was that you speaking?"

"Yes! But I use 'it' to talk~!" the girl said happily as she turned around to show off the strange metal device on the back of her neck. It looked like a flattened silver-white spine, obediently fitted against the girl's nape. "This is called a Neural Thorn. By the way, ma'am, are you dragonborn? I heard there are guests being hosted here today, guests from the Holy Dragon Duchy. I know a big sister named Maggie—she's dragonborn too, hey... oh right, I haven't introduced myself yet. My name is Pea..."

Ashalena: "...?!"