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Tower of Avarice: A LitRPG story
Chapter 56 – Floor 6: Part 9

Chapter 56 – Floor 6: Part 9

Chapter 56 – Floor 6: Part 9

The Talrandians were led by their Prince, who was wearing ceremonial armour created just for this occasion. Made of magically enhanced steel, it shone as blue as the water of the Azure Sea and had the Talrandian dragon symbol engraved on the chest.

A long, white fur cloak trailed behind him, held up by a pair of servants to keep it from touching the ground.

Mathew shook his head at the display. Center Island was stiflingly hot and humid, and he didn’t know how the Prince wasn’t cooking in the heat. As he drew closer, Mathew could see a shimmer of light around the Prince, and his breath made a slight mist as he exhaled.

‘Magic. He’s using magic to keep cold in that ridiculous outfit.’ Mathew thought. To think that something like magic would be used for such a mundane effect disgusted him, but it truly wasn’t surprising.

Talrandian musicians began to play a tune as the procession travelled the short distance from their embassy to the Center Pavilion. Over three hundred people were in attendance, all wearing their finest clothing, although most appeared to have been ‘indulging’ before the celebration.

Even the Prince himself seemed a tad unsteady on his feet.

Reaching the pavilion, the Prince greeted him arrogantly.

“Champion. I trust you enjoyed yourself amongst the Amadans, although I cannot imagine how you could suffer their company. Their aesthetics are displeasing, and I heard they sleep on beds of stone. Preposterous!” The Prince stated, and his retinue began to laugh and jeer behind him.

“They were very accommodating.” Mathew stated, not intending to engage in further discussion. He was saved by the opening of the doors to the Amadan embassy, where their Princess led their own procession.

Unlike the Talrandians, the Amadans were silent as they approached, although Mathew imagined there was a mental cacophony happening that he wasn’t privy to. They all wore humbler, duller and less ostentatious clothing than their Talrandian counterparts.

If Mathew could describe the Amadans in a single word, it would be ‘subdued.’

Princess Rehn was in the lead, walking sedately across the green lawn toward him. Wearing a white dress with a high collar, long sleeves and a flowing skirt that trailed behind her, she looked beautiful without appearing to put any effort into her appearance.

Unlike the Talrandian Prince, who seemed desperate to stand out and deliberately attract attention, it was more natural for Rehn. She would draw eyes in any crowd, regardless of who she stood in the midst of.

The Talrandians stared at the approaching Amadans with disdain. While the Psions would have difficulty reading the assembled crowd's facial expressions and body language, the thoughts of the Talrandians were easy for them to understand.

Even the subdued Princess Rehn grew visibly angry, her face flushing red with anger as her future husband scanned her body with a critical eye before shaking his head arrogantly.

“She is too-” Mathew cut the Prince off before he could make the situation worse. Although it truly didn’t matter if he couldn’t vocalize the words, Rehn already knew what was on his mind.

“Princess Rehn, I am honoured to be here with you both on this auspicious day! You look wonderful, as radiant as the sun above us.” Mathew flattered shamelessly, hoping to defuse the situation slightly.

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Behind the Prince and near her master, Amberlith looked at Mathew strangely. She hadn’t seen him in the past few days, so she didn’t know the nature of his relationship with Rehn, but he wasn’t one to normally sweet-talk someone. Her eyes flicked back and forth between the pair.

“Thank you, Champion.” Rehn replied, bowing her head slightly.

“Perhaps we should all enter and begin the ceremony.” Mathew added quickly, again heading off any comments by the Prince or the Talrandians. Mathew waved his hand, gesturing toward the Pavilion. Chairs and tables had been set by servants earlier that morning, the arrangements overseen by Mathew himself.

The Amadans would be seated on the left, the Talrandians on the right, while Mathew occupied a table and chair in the front of the room, directly in the center of both groups. Facing the crowd, he would have Rehn seated on his right while the Prince was on his left.

An empty space was kept in the middle of the pavilion, where entertainers would perform.

‘Or where the fighting would take place. This tent is a powder keg.’ Mathew said quietly, and the Pavilion was silent save for the sound of shuffling feet and scraping chairs on the wooden platform beneath them.

He watched the crowd carefully, looking for trouble, but they were mostly showing restraint. Occasionally, someone would let out a quiet curse, or one of the Amandans would flush red with anger, nearly leaping to their feet before calming once more.

But it hadn’t come to violence, which he was thankful for.

Mathew had wanted them to get it over with, the couple to say their vows immediately so that he could accomplish his goal and leave this floor, but both groups had balked at the idea. There were conventions to follow and prayers to the gods to be said, and Mathew couldn’t change that, even as the Champion.

Clearing his throat, Mathew stood to deliver his short speech, the only time he would be required to speak today. He had even tried to avoid this, but Rehn had been adamant that it would be necessary to say something.

“As the representative of the goddess of Serene Reconciliation, it is my duty to officiate this wedding. We have gathered here today for the sake of peace and the symbolic joining of these two as the physical representation of the goddess’ will.” Mathew stated, looking around the room.

The Prince was leaning in his chair, his head resting against the back of his hand. Rehn was utterly still, staring out at nothing. It was obvious that neither of them wanted to be here.

“Let the ceremony begin.” Mathew finished, sitting back down.

The wedding would consist of three ‘Phases.’ The first would be performances by entertainers from both continents to showcase their culture, traditional music and things of that nature. Mathew hadn’t known the Amadans even had music, but Rehn assured him that the performance would be magnificent.

The second would be a meal, where the Talrandians would enjoy Amadan cuisine and vice-versa. If there was going to be an outbreak of violence, Mathew didn’t think it would happen here. They would wait until the third phase, a talent showcase.

He had thought he had misheard Rehn when she explained that it would be a time of open challenge between the groups. The traditional airing of grievances that both Amadan and Talrandian wedding celebrations contained. Both sides would want to display their martial and magical talents in a contest between the two groups.

It would be Mathew’s responsibility to ensure that no one died during the display, a stipulation that left him nervous.

With Mathew’s command to begin the ceremony, two representatives from both sides stepped forward. They would be directing the performances, and by agreement, the Talrandian delegation would start first.

A young man entered the pavilion, fiddling with the strings of a lute, and Mathew had to suppress a groan while the Prince perked up immediately.

“Ahh, Lugard! Excellent! Show these uncultured barbarians what true entertainment is!” The Prince shouted, and Mathew placed a hand over his face. The man was looking to start a bloodbath!

With a broad grin on his handsome face, the musician gave a deep bow at the Prince’s command. Plucking the strings loudly, Lugard stepped into the center of the Pavilion and began his song.

“A Prince so handsome he puts the gods to shame, sadly, about the Amadan Princess, I cannot say the same!” He strummed the cords, and the song continued.

Mathew had never heard something so insulting put to music before in his life. If it hadn’t been for the fact that he knew Rehn and the Amadans, which made Lugard’s lyrics untrue, he could have praised him for his clever rhymes.

But right now, Mathew wanted to jump across the table and throttle the idiot. Even the subdued Amadans were growing angry, especially when the Talrandians began to sing along. Some of them even stood and began to dance!

The Talrandians had begged their goddess for a peace treaty, then proceeded to try their utmost to sabotage it! Did they do it because they knew they could get away with anything since the truce was a forgone conclusion?

Letting out yet another deep sigh, Mathew rested his head in his hands and waited for the song to end.