Chapter 297. All Those Years, and Still Nothing Learned? (3)
After the first day of the summit ended on a surprisingly productive note, the real meeting began that evening in the grand banquet hall of the Imperial Palace.
It was the so-called "Caron Cartel" convening once more... although calling it a meeting was a bit of a stretch.
"Damn. Nothing beats drinking in the Imperial Palace," Caron said with a satisfied sigh.
"Hear, hear! Let me pour a drink for our Warrior," the Pope chimed in.
"Oh? Your Holiness, is it really alright for you to serve me drinks?" Caron asked, sounding amused.
"Wine is a gift from the Light itself, is it not?" the Pope answered with a laugh. "No need to hesitate. I even raided the best monastery cellar in the Holy Kingdom just for this occasion."
"In that case, I won't hold back..." Caron trailed off.
"Take mine as well, Caron," the Sultan added, holding out a goblet. "It's from the royal cellars of the Sultanate. You enjoyed it last time, so I brought plenty."
"Oh, thank you, Sultan," Caron said.
And so the drinking party, centered on Caron, kicked off in full swing. There was wine from the Holy Kingdom, liquor from the Pajar Sultanate, and alcohol from elves, dwarves, and orcs—each race's finest offerings filled the long banquet table.
Caron accepted each glass with gusto, drinking like a wild colt let off its reins.
The only common thread among those gathered was that every one of them had a deep connection with Caron.