Cycle of Destiny

Chapter 27 A Dinner for Two

Harry was filled with questions, but hunger attacked his will like a death knell, so he temporarily put aside his confusion and focused on eating.

The soup has a rich, savory flavor with a hint of minerality, like rocks, and the warmth quickly spreads from the throat to the stomach.

After the soup bowls were removed, the main meat dish was served.

This is a large hot silver platter, on which sits a huge, almost intact rib.

The meat attached to the ribs was a dark reddish-brown, roasted to a crisp, evenly distributed pattern of coarse salt and traces of some kind of dark purple herb. Thick fat had congealed into a translucent gel at the junction of the bone and meat, gleaming slightly in the candlelight.

The meat has coarse fibers and a clear texture, emitting a highly aggressive aroma that blends pine smoke with the scent of hot iron, which is satisfying just from the aroma alone.

"The main course is the ribs from the 'Thunder Rhino'."

As the servant assisted Harry with cutting the food using a broad-bladed knife and a specially made serrated silver fork, he provided a brief explanation.

"Taken from the Thunder Rhinoceros that lives at the boundary between the swamp and the foothills, it is hunted in the early morning and roasted over fruitwood charcoal in the afternoon. The outer layer is crispy, while the inside retains its juices. The rhinoceros mainly feeds on 'Thunder Grass' which contains trace amounts of lightning elements. After being roasted at high temperatures, its meat has a unique, tingling aftertaste, which is the hallmark of its flavor."

Harry cut the steak open, revealing a perfect pink interior, juicy and flavorful.

Upon tasting, the first sensation is the rich, mellow aroma of meat and the crispy texture of the outer skin. Then, an extremely subtle, tingling sensation, like static electricity gliding across the tongue, spreads out. It is indeed unique, but not unpleasant. Instead, it adds a distinct and memorable touch to the rich meat flavor.

Harry chewed on the robust and flavorful steak, the faint dance music in his ears seemingly drowned out by the substantial, powerful food.

The only sounds in the restaurant were the occasional soft clinking of knives and forks against silver plates, and the distant, ethereal echoes of another bustling world.

The Thunder Rhino Steak was a large portion, but Harry ate it very quickly.

He focused intently on cutting, forking, and putting it into his mouth, almost without pausing.

Just as he put his knife and fork together on the edge of the plate and swallowed the last bite, the servant beside him had already stepped forward.

The servant deftly removed the empty silver plate, stained with sauce and oil, his movements steady and swift, without the slightest unnecessary wobbling.

Almost at the same moment the empty plate was taken away, another waiter placed a new, identical steak in front of him.

The steam from the freshly cutlet, mingled with the aroma of caramelization and a unique, slightly numbing sensation, rose once more.

Harry didn't speak, but picked up his knife and fork and continued cutting. He cut quickly, the blade occasionally making a soft, restrained scraping sound against the plate. This sound was almost the only background noise in the restaurant, along with the faint rhythm of dance music drifting from afar.

The process that followed almost became a fixed rhythm:

Harry focused intently on eating, cutting, chewing, and swallowing; whenever his plate was nearly empty, a servant would always step forward at the most opportune moment to remove the empty plate and replace it with a new one. The empty plate was always removed cleanly, leaving only the smooth bottom and a large, cleaned rib.

The freshly placed plates are always piping hot, and the steaks maintain the same pink cross-section and evenly browned crust.

Throughout the entire process, the waiter did not utter a single word except when introducing the food at the beginning.

As if pre-programmed, they precisely executed the cycle of "emptying" and "filling," ensuring that Harry's plate always had food and that no messy empty plates were ever left on the table.

The efficient and silent service, combined with Harry's quick and focused eating, created a peculiar, self-contained rhythm in the empty restaurant.

After a while, the double door of the restaurant was pushed open again.

Veranica walked in.

Harry's gaze fell on her and lingered for a moment.

Veronica was dressed too formally, even beyond the usual standards for a dinner party, exuding an air of solemnity.

She wore a floor-length silver velvet gown with a wide hem, so that it was almost impossible to see what shoes she was wearing when she moved.

The high collar design tightly wrapped around her neck, and the edge of the collar was embroidered with a circle of heraldic patterns that were connected end to end in fine gold thread—that was her family's leopard head emblem.

Her dark brown hair was meticulously combed upwards and coiled into a complex and tight bun, without a single stray hair falling out.

She wore a pair of elbow-length white silk gloves, and a ring with a deep blue sapphire on the index finger of her left hand. She wore no other jewelry.

The outfit was luxurious and solemn, even carrying a hint of ritualistic significance. The overly wide skirt also made Harry wonder how Veronica would dance in this outfit.

Veronica sat down to Harry's right, instead of choosing the main seat to his left. Her hands were folded in front of her, her fingers, gloved in white, slightly curled.

"The dinner has started early," she said, a bright smile on her face, her gaze falling on the grease stains on Harry's empty plate. "I forgot to send someone to inform you."

Harry wasn't angry at all when she heard this. On the contrary, she thought that this arrangement might be exactly what she wanted—she probably didn't want the other guests to see her eating so intently, even somewhat wolfing down her food.

This is very much in line with Veronica's consistent style of paying attention to occasions and etiquette.

But he couldn't help himself and looked up again at her overly formal attire.

"Why are you dressed so formally?" Harry asked, his gaze sweeping over her long dress and white gloves.

"This is a banquet," Veronica replied casually.

After getting the answer, Harry lost interest in talking to Veronica and picked up his knife and fork again to continue eating.

Veronica didn't seem to need to entertain the guests; she just watched Harry from the sidelines.

After a while, the door on the other side of the restaurant opened, and a woman walked in.

Her arrival clearly had a significant impact on the entire restaurant.

Veronica's expression changed, and she almost immediately stood up from her seat, her movements quick and decisive.

She bowed deeply towards the door, her left hand on her chest and her right hand hanging at her side.

Veranica greeted her respectfully while bowing.

"My Lady Goddess."

Harry stopped chewing and looked up.

A figure stepped into the candlelight.

She wore a long black robe that reached the ground. The fabric was not ordinary silk or velvet, but a heavy, matte material, like some kind of carefully tanned leather, yet it shimmered with an extremely subtle, flowing sheen as she walked.

The robe was exceptionally simple in its design, with a high collar and long sleeves, without any embroidery or jewels, except for a wide belt of the same color tied around the waist, giving it a dignified and composed appearance.

She sat down at the head of the long table and calmly responded to Veranika.

"You can go now."

Harry put down his knife and fork, wiped his mouth with a napkin, and looked serious.

Although he didn't have a good impression of the church's clergy, since the other party was a goddess of the church, he didn't dare to be irresponsible.

Only after she sat down did he get a clear look at the goddess's appearance.

She was probably in her fifties or sixties, very thin, with her black hair cascading down her back. Although it wasn't tied up, it was neat and tidy, without any messiness.

Her face appeared somewhat pale in the candlelight, her features were clear and serene, the wrinkles at the corners of her eyes were obvious, and her lips were very pale.

What's most striking is her eyes—their pupils are a very light grayish-blue, and when she looks at Harry, her gaze is filled with a smile, but Harry always feels that there is a tragic quality in her eyes.

She possesses an authoritative aura unique to those in positions of authority. You would feel that she is accustomed to giving orders, and obeying her would be perfectly natural. She would also accept the obedience of others with a humble attitude.

Veronica and her attendant left the restaurant. Harry looked at the goddess without speaking, waiting for her to speak.

The goddess looked at him and said with a smile,

"Veranika told me that you had a long talk with her yesterday, and that we talked about me. I'm very happy to know that you're willing to see me today."

Her voice wasn't loud; it was clear and steady. Her intonation was very subtle, almost without fluctuation, but it had a musical quality, like a gentle lullaby. Combined with her smile, it gave off a very friendly feeling.

Harry guessed that whenever she was asked to give a speech at a charity event, she must have used the same tone to thank the wealthy ladies who had donated.

At this moment, Harry finally understood the reason for all of this: why Veronica had invited him to lunch at the expensive Lionheart, and why she was so kind; and the silver velvet dress he was wearing, and the dinner that started early.

He was glad that he hadn't misjudged his old friend; she was indeed not as naive as she appeared.

However, he also frowned. What Veranica told the goddess was obviously far from the truth. Although he did not refuse directly—because Veranica did not ask directly—he clearly indicated to Veranica that he had no intention of seeing the goddess.

At this point, Harry hesitated. Exposing Veronica's lies would not weigh on Harry's conscience at all; in fact, Harry would be quite happy to do so.

However, the goddess was already sitting next to him, and she seemed so friendly. Harry didn't dare to say he didn't want to see her in front of her.

Veranica found herself in a very awkward position. The conflict between magicians and clergy was undeniable, but she seemed unable to refuse to speak with the goddess.

In his mind, Harry had already described Veranika using relatively obscure terms from the aristocracy—these terms were supposedly frequently used in arguments among the common people. Harry also made many bold guesses about the composition of Veranika's mind.

However, he still has to face it for now.

What could the goddess want from me?

Could it be a tragedy that occurred at the port?

Impossible. If the church wanted to investigate him, they would have gone directly to him, not gone through Veranika first.

But why is that?

Although he knew in his heart that it wasn't because of the port, he still responded.

"Did Your Grace seek me out because of the tragedy at Genoa? Duke Landon has already returned to the capital; she knows far more than I do."

"It's not because of that," the goddess replied to Harry with a smile.

"Is there anything else that concerns me?" Harry asked, a puzzled look on his face.

"Yes, there is something I hope you can help me with." The goddess's tone became low and pleading as she said this.

"Then I understand even less. I'm just a magician."

"I need your help with something."

"I have serious doubts about my ability to help you, Your Grace."

"Twenty years ago, I lost a bracelet on Lake Holy Light behind the Cathedral of Holy Light. Someone told me that you could help me find it."

"I don't know anything." Harry shrugged, squirming under his tuxedo as if bugs were crawling inside, clearly very uncomfortable.

The goddess stared at Harry, her smile vanishing, her eyebrows drooping slightly, creating a vertical line between them, while the corners of her mouth curved downwards uncontrollably. Her gaze was somewhat unfocused, and her face was filled with worry.

But this sorrowful look only lasted a short time. Immediately, a smile returned to her face, though her tone couldn't hide her disappointment.

"I understand. I'm sorry to have disturbed your meal, I'll be going now."

And so their conversation ended, and the goddess left the dining room. Harry, looking at the steak on his plate, lost his appetite and turned to head towards the drawing room.