The Elf Journey In The Western Fantasy World-Chapter 106: A Quiet Banquet

"I’m very selfish. I don’t want to carry the weight of an entire race’s trust. It feels like I’m shouldering a massive mountain. If I were to make the wrong decision, I don’t even dare imagine what kind of damage it might cause to my people."

"People say that to err is human, but when something like that really happens, there’s no way to take it so lightly. I’m timid, selfish, lazy... I possess the worst kind of personality. So, it’s impossible for me to bear such a heavy burden completely on my own."

"Even though I’ve been the Elf King for thousands of years, my thoughts have never changed. Sometimes, being alone is a good thing."

No matter how long the journey was, it would always eventually come to an end. Besides, this path wasn’t as long as imagined. After a series of turns through the Demon Palace, led by a palace servant, they finally arrived at the banquet venue.

The banquet’s decor was vastly different from the grand and lavish banquets they were used to. In fact, it could be said to be on the opposite end of the spectrum. This banquet felt more like a gathering to welcome old friends. Though not adorned in splendor, every detail reflected the host’s sincerity and effort.

Careful attention had been paid to avoid all sensitive cultural topics related to race. For instance, elves weren’t fond of spicy food, so the dishes served were made with minimal or no chili peppers.

Moreover, the four of them had been seated together. Coincidentally, their seats faced the seven demon lords, representing the highest power of the demon race. All seven of them had shown up.

At that moment, the demons were seated in their respective places, waiting for their guests’ arrival.

A palace servant bowed toward the throne where the Demon King sat.

"Your Majesty, good evening. I’ve brought your guests."

Upon hearing this, the Demon King, seated at the head of the table, turned to look and straightened his posture. He gave a slight nod in their direction. "Much appreciated."

The servant bowed again, his voice tinged with nervousness. "This is what I ought to do for Your Majesty. You don’t need to say such things."

After saying this, the servant quickly turned and exited the hall. His departure was noticeably faster than when he had arrived, as if something were chasing him from behind.

The Demon King fell silent: ....

That was unnecessary.

The Demon King—Anos—cleared his throat awkwardly, clearly unsure of what to say. Even after all these years, his subordinates still acted this way. Whenever he said things like "Thank you" or "Sorry for the trouble," they’d run off like they’d just witnessed some unspeakable horror.

Being the Demon King was truly difficult.

"Illiya, you’ve arrived," Anos quickly redirected Illiya and his group’s attention. "This gathering was just something I invited you to myself, and I didn’t invite many others. It’s really more like a get-together among friends, so I didn’t go overboard with the arrangements. Being surrounded by a bunch of unfamiliar... demons you don’t know, yeah, that would be really uncomfortable."

"Anyway, I personally don’t like banquets filled with political dealings. Isn’t something simple better?"

Illiya and the others didn’t feel slighted or disrespected. On the contrary, they found it somewhat amusing.

The Demon King really was still a child at heart.

Still, they genuinely agreed with what the Demon King had said.

If elves were truly interested in personal gain, the entire continent might have been unified a thousand years ago. If Seoryun had truly desired power, he wouldn’t have feigned imprisonment for ten years just to escape from the duties he was supposed to undertake. And that certain great swordsman wouldn’t have resigned from his post as Royal Knight Commander to travel the continent instead.

None of them were that type of person. And it was precisely because of their similarities that people who otherwise had no reason to cross paths could come together and become friends.

Anos had only casually voiced a complaint, unaware that his words had stirred certain thoughts in the others. Pointing to the empty seats on his left, he addressed Illiya and the others, "These are your seats."

"There’s no ranking to the seating. Everything was assigned by drawing lots. Even which side you sit on was decided randomly."

The Demon King’s strong survival instinct was evident in that last line, prompting Illiya and his companions to glance at him sideways.

They hadn’t thought that much about it. In fact, they didn’t care where they were seated. But for the Demon King to have even considered that detail?

It was truly hard to know how to even comment on the situation.

Especially for Seoryun, who was also a king like Illiya, he was the most shocked of all. He had no choice but to start reflecting on whether he himself, as a king, had been too unreliable.

Compared to the Demon Lord of the Demon Realm, this king’s conduct was absolutely inadequate.

Illiya took a few steps forward and began looking for his designated seat.

Drow closely followed behind Illiya — or rather, he had never once strayed far from Illiya’s side.

Illiya carefully inspected each of the small nameplates laid out on the tables.

Drow, however, was indifferent because he already knew exactly where he would sit, and even who would be sitting beside him.

He had experienced the exact same situation in his previous life — how could he possibly forget?

In his previous life, he had been seated third from the left; Illiya was in the second seat; the red-haired greatsword warrior sat to Illiya’s right; and Seoryun, the king of Areuseon Kingdom, occupied the first seat on the left.

Just during the moment Drow drifted into his thoughts, Illiya had already looked at the nameplates on three tables and hadn’t found his own name. Instead, when Illiya glanced at the third nameplate, he found Drow’s name written on it.

"Drow, you’re sitting here."