Chapter 543 - The Morality Of War
As the date of the Exalted Assembly drew closer, Polis, the one and only city of Kosmos, filled with cultivators. The dilapidated and empty buildings had now been fully reconstructed by the champions of Horror, and given to the highest bidding domains to use as base of operation to strike merchant agreement between friendly domains.
Of these hundreds of buildings, only a few had been reserved for recreational purposes, like gamble houses, brothels, and restaurants. Virtually all of these establishments were constantly occupied by the young and talented champions of each domain, who had either painstakingly earned, inherited, or otherwise received the chance to join their domain's delegation.
More than for recreational purposes, these establishments existed, just like the arenas, to allow various kinds of interaction between the future leaders of each domain, who, until now, had only heard rumors of the rivalries and competition between these civilizations. Whether successful or not, these interactions would turn into an amusing distraction for the older generation, who would then be able to enjoy the competition between their descendants in the arenas.
In one of these recreational buildings, was a simple restaurant operated by the thin and nervous-looking mortals of Horror's domain. A simple glimpse at the state of these workers was more than enough to imagine what horrors these people had endured throughout their lives, and it was entirely possible that the few days they would spend attending this restaurant, would be the most comfortable part of their lives.. which was otherwise spent surviving the nightmare that was Horror's domain.
For the duration of the Exalted Assembly, these mortals were forced to roam around the packed restaurant with drinks and courses they had never even seen before.. serving them to irritable and spoiled entities that could obliterate them with a sneeze. However, that was not the case for all of them. While the majority of the customers were rude and impatient, there was also a polite minority which treated these mortals with a semblance of respect, or at the least, ignored them despite the lack of skill in the job they had been assigned to.
"... I didn't! I told him beforehand I would start the simulation with a shield wall ahah! It's not my fault the idiot did not believe me!" Said a muscular man in his thirties, dressed in a grey military attire. On his chest, collar, and shoulders were several medals and patches, which not only gave color to his dull-looking uniform, but also showed his rank to his peers, who were currently occupying the rest of the table, and were in the middle of listening to his story.
"Bullshit!" barked out a similarly dressed and rough-looking woman while leaning forward, and pointing her finger at her boastful companion.
Not at all offended by the woman's accusation, the male officer shrugged his shoulders, and said, "At least I remember to! Ahahah!" As he finished speaking, his companions burst out laughing, almost as if in on the joke from the very beginning, and completely unaware, or uncaring, about how noisy they were being to those who were occupying the surrounding tables.
Luckily, not all groups of cultivators were as noisy.
Sitting at a table on the other side of the restaurant, was a group of five cultivators, all dressed in unique attires. One of them was dressed in a simple monk robe, brown as tree bark, and with a golden rope tied around the waist. His face was covered by a brown hood that hid the upper part of his face. Next to him, was a warrior fully covered in a thick layer of plated armor, with a wide towering shield which gave an unnecessary layer of protection to his back, a female archer dressed in light green clothes with a refined and elegant shortbow strapped behind her back, a black-haired young woman who sipped tea while balancing a carved wooden staff on her legs, and a blonde warrior clad in white-gold armor, who kept a hand onto his sword's handle not in preparation for battle, but to make sure that the tip of his sword would not impede the passage of the workers.
Ever since the moment of their arrival, this group of cultivators had been the least problematic for the inexperienced workers, showing their willingness to forgive their mistakes with indifference.
"They are so noisy.." Said the archer while looking at the soldiers with irritation, a feeling that was shared by most of the people present in the restaurant.
"There is always a group like them. Don't start acting out." Said the second young woman after putting down the now emptied cup of tea, causing her companion to breathe out in exasperation before turning to look away.
At the end of this interaction, a nervous-looking waitress approached the table with a small cart. On it, were simple dishes, mostly bread, a pot of warm stew, and slices of cheese. By the thin figure of the staff, one could have guessed that it had been awhile since they had eaten anything, and yet, they did not dare to look at the food they were carrying. In their minds, the memories of their peers being turned into dust for reasons as small as spilling a bit of soup, was enough to keep themselves in check.
Once next to the table, she quietly checked the order, and after making sure who had ordered what, she began to place each dish in front of the right person.
After what felt like an hour for the waiter, but was only a minute, she placed the last dish in front of the man in white-gold armor, who, until now, had spent his time with his eyes closed. That changed when the waiter began to leave, as she felt the cold yet gentle hold of a metallic gauntlet grip her arm. "We ordered this more than twenty minutes ago. Why did it take so long?"
The waiter, shocked, began to stutter an excuse, but before any of those sounds could make any sense, the warrior stopped her, and said, "We don't want it anymore. Eat it yourself, throw it away, I do not care.. Just take it away. Get us something to drink instead." As he finished speaking the waiter reluctantly took the dishes off of the table, placed them onto the cart, and started to head towards the kitchen.
"You know, someday I would actually like to try something." Said the female archer to the warrior in white-gold armor, through a mischievous grin. Her words were able to change the mood of the table, which went from being irritated by the annoying behavior of the group of soldiers, to a general amusement caused by the warrior's failed attempt at inconspicuously helping the worker.
"I don't know what you're talking about." Said the warrior while pulling the hilt of his sword towards the side of his chest, the very moment a second waiter walked by.
"Stop teasing him. He doesn't have his helmet on.. You know how silly he looks when he blushes." Said the black-haired woman while overlapping her legs. At no point in her movements, did the staff that she was holding move from its perfectly stable horizontal position.
The warrior in white-gold armor ignored the two. Instead, he slowly grabbed his helmet, which was resting on his lap, and quietly put it no, causing the rest of his companions to burst out laughing.
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"I like him." Said Daniel from a dark corner of the restaurant, where him, Ashura, Rose and the others were eating their meal in silence.
Lilith, who had long since forgotten what kind of person Daniel was, and only remembered him as the mysterious champion of an unknown domain that had taken the time to take them back to the domain of Competition, said with doubt, "Why? The champion of Horror tasked with managing this restaurant will not simply let them eat the food even if he said so. Is wasted kindness commendable?"
Unsurprised about Lilith's remark, Daniel took a sip out of his wine cup, and said, "If you died today, how many would be thankful for your existence?"
Daniel's words surprised Lilith, who, instinctively, thought about her family and friends. However, as this list of people formed in her mind, and she prepared herself to answer Daniel's question, she found herself unable to speak.
In her domain, connections were supported by competition.. Which meant that her worth as a friend and daughter, was ultimately limited to her success. The more she thought about it, the more she came to the conclusion that, if she really died, those whom she believed to be close to her were more likely to end up mourning the time they had wasted on her, than her passing.
Unable to answer, she looked down in a feeling of shame that was interrupted by Daniel's elbow, which tapped the side of her arm. As she looked up, she noticed that Daniel was looking at the waitress, which had just come out with a trail filled with different sorts of beverages. The moment her eyes landed on her, she heard Daniel's voice say, "In the kitchen, she was forced to throw away the food.. And yet, look at her."
Lilith paid attention to the waitress, who quietly made her way through the tables. She then noticed how, the moment she reached the table of the heroic-looking warrior in white-gold armor, a warm smile formed on her face. A smile that lasted the entire minute or so that she spent serving the party's drinks, and immediately disappeared as she moved on.
"Inconsequential, and silly of him to do.." said Daniel with a matter-of-fact tone. ".. but if he died right now, he would know that, maybe, the waiter would feel bad about it."
In Lilith's mind was left nothing but a feeling of defeat, but due to her prideful mentality, she could not bring herself to simply accept that she was wrong. Instead, she shrugged her shoulders, and said with a disdainful tone, "Why invite unnecessary trouble? Just to feel a little better about yourself? It's even more pitiful."
Daniel did not have a witty response to this.
Many times in his life he had found himself in trouble because he had decided to help someone. However, he had never regretted it. He knew that the consequence of different lifestyles would only become obvious at the end of one's life.. When one would be able to judge themselves and the person they were, and decide whether to be happy with their life.. so he chose not to continue the argument. Instead, he observed in silence as the waiter reached the table of the soldier-looking cultivators, who had not stopped laughing and chatting loudly until now.
When the laughs began to die out, a third soldier dressed in a similar, yet slightly different military uniform than the others, said, "It is bad luck to exchange war stories without a drink." He then moved his hand up to his face, and rubbed his temples in an attempt to dispel the irritation he was feeling-An action that was shown to be pointless the moment he lifted his right arm, and struck the wooden surface of the table with just enough power to form a small crack.
When he opened his eyes, and turned to look for a waiter, he felt the feeling of a liquid fall from on top of the table, directly in between his legs, forming a wet stain on his pants that resembled a stain of urine.
Next to the table stood the terrified waitress, still holding one of the glasses with trembling hands. The underdeveloped muscles of her legs were stiff, like those of a cornered animal that had already given up on their lives.. Nevertheless, nothing seemed to happen.
The soldier quietly looked down at the stain, and with the index finger and thumb of his right hand, he pulled the moisture out of the fibers of his pants. He then turned to look at the soldiers he was with, and said, "Of course you can't find useful people in Horror's domain."
As he finished speaking, the glob of alcoholic liquid became firm, and straightened into what looked like a transparent toothpick, which after being fully formed, shot towards the forehead of the waitress at a speed that was beyond anything that could be captured with the naked eye.
None of these small actions had attracted any form of attention from the dozens of cultivators present in the restaurant.. However, when the large figure of the warrior clad in white-gold armor appeared behind the terrified waitress in a fraction of a blink of an eye, with two fingers clenched around the toothpick that was just about to pierce the woman's forehead, the buzz of chatter stopped, and the eyes of every other customer collectively turned towards him.