Chương 120: Chapter 119: The Victory Feast at Tartarus Station

Tartarus Central Station glowed tonight under the warm golden light of magical lanterns. A two-hundred-meter ebony banquet table stretched alongside the armored rail line. Plates piled with whole roasted beast meat, kegs of foaming barley beer, and thousands of steaming bowls of spicy beef instant noodles covered every inch of the table. Solaris delegates, railway crews, merchants, guards and security personnel sat mixed in among horned Demon-race warriors and civilians.

The clang of metal cups toasting mixed with roars of laughter, driving away the ten-thousand-year chill of the shadow realm entirely. In a quiet corner of the VIP carriage, Lucian sat cross-legged at a small table, cutting a piece of medium-rare beast steak and popping it into his mouth. On his lap, a jade abacus clicked away. He chewed and muttered through calculations.

"Five hundred crates of arcane hot sauce: two hundred thousand gold. Repair cost for twelve meters of cracked rail: a hundred thousand gold. Emergency structural stabilization, containment wards, cleanup, and station safety inspection: five hundred thousand gold. Hazard pay for Astra: fifty gold..." On the platform of honor at the head of the station, Emperor Alaric de Solaris raised a solid gold goblet and spoke through the arcane microphone, his voice ringing out.

"People of both worlds! Tonight, let us raise our cups to honor the young hero whose boundless wisdom and courage shattered the chains of ancient hatred, opening an eternal era of harmony—" Click. From behind the velvet backstage curtain, Lucian poked his head out, a small magical microphone clipped to his collar, and cut straight through the royal speech in a flat, even voice.

"While I have everyone's attention, a financial announcement: total emergency response and repair costs come to eight hundred thousand clean gold. The Solaris Royal Family covers 50%, the Tartarus Demon Realm covers the other 50%. Both parties must transfer payment by the fifth of next month. Late payments follow the documented treaty rate and dispute procedure." The entire two-hundred-meter station fell into a dead silence for exactly three seconds. Emperor Alaric froze, goblet still raised.

General Baelor, mid-shout on a rallying slogan, had his expression lock up completely. Then, an instant later, laughter broke out across the station. Knights and Demon-race soldiers pounded the tables, while accountants groaned and several officials immediately asked for a copy of the invoice. This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

"That's so him!"

"Greatest creditor in history!"

"Not even the Emperor escapes the Young Master's debts!" Some people found the timing outrageous. Others found the arithmetic reassuring. The important part was that the costs, responsibilities, and dispute rules were written down symmetrically instead of hidden behind a holy speech. Eleanor came down from the platform, golden hair loose over her shoulders. She walked straight to Lucian's small table, picked up a tender slice of roasted tenderloin, and set it onto his plate.

"Eat more. You've looked thinner running around all these days." Astra came up behind her, setting a crystal cup piled with strawberry ice cream down on the table with a firm clunk.

"Lucian, have some ice cream first — it'll cool down your throat." Carmilla drifted over in her silver fox-fur cloak, pouring deep red wine for the adult officials before setting a glass of chilled berry cordial in front of Lucian.

"Three-hundred-year-aged Tartarus wine for the adults. Berry cordial for the Young Master with the dangerous invoice." Lucian looked at the small mountain of food piling up on his plate — beef, strawberry ice cream, and berry cordial — his mouth twitching twice.

"If the three of you keep shoving food in my mouth like this, I'm going to start charging an excess-calorie intake fee." Eleanor, Astra, and Carmilla all looked at his scowling face and burst out laughing together. Click! Sylvia stood across from him, aiming a magical memory-crystal at the small table, pressing the capture button. A flash of white light burst for an instant.

The crystal captured the moment perfectly: a ten-year-old boy in an ash-grey cloak sitting at the table, fork and knife in hand, looking flustered, while a royal princess checked his plate, a Savior delivered ice cream, a Demon-race Countess hosted the table, and engineer Evelyn Wright argued about rail bolts behind them. A magical photograph historians would later preserve as a priceless artifact:'The Station Feast — Where a Postwar Framework Survived Its First Meal.' Ting.

[SYSTEM ASSESSMENT:] Calories consumed by the Host during this feast: enough to power a Grand Mage flying from here back to the capital, ten times over. Observable team status: feast ongoing; no active arguments detected near the Host's dessert. Clack. Clack. Evelyn, in her grease-stained work gear, holding a glowing arcane tablet, walked over to the table. She leaned down and spoke close to Lucian's ear, her voice dropping into her most serious tone.

"Lucian. We've got a situation." Lucian set down his fork.

"What now? The rail line's broken again?" Evelyn swiped the crystal screen, revealing a magical radar chart flickering with green signal waves, radiating from a depth of ten thousand meters underground.

"Not the rail line. The Time Crystal you just activated... it just sent out a massive energy pulse, activating the authenticated route toward Floor 50 of the World Tower." Evelyn pushed her glasses up her nose, her eyes wide behind the lenses.

"And my sensors just picked up a radio frequency... broadcasting a news bulletin in fluent modern English, transmitting from deep inside Floor 50."