A brave man may not live, but he cannot die

Chapter 154 The Waltz on the Night of Departure (Part 2)
Two waiters pushed open the door for her, and with the heavy scraping sound of the solid wood door, a dazzling and magnificent light rushed in like rain.

Celia's eyes widened slightly, and she followed her adoptive father closely behind him, looking like a timid and shy kitten.

The air was filled with the elegant scents of champagne and caviar, the atmosphere lively yet not noisy. Elegantly dressed people engaged in refined conversation, and string music flowed through every corner of the banquet. The instruments in the musicians' hands gleamed so brightly that they reflected the glass dome. Every greeter bowed slightly to her, making Celia feel like a king entering a palace.

"Hey bro, bro Yusser! Check if my zipper's zipped up properly."

Celia called softly to the boy beside her, who replied helplessly, "It's tucked in, it's tucked in. This dress took half a year to make, and it's so expensive. It's impossible for it to slip open once it's tucked in."

"Hmm," Celia cautiously glanced left and right, feeling this wasn't the place for her. "Would this dress look strange on me? It doesn't feel as comfortable as my school uniform."

"How could a formal suit be more comfortable than Grindelwald's school uniform?"

Yuther sincerely praised her sister: "Don't worry, don't worry, it looks great."

"really?"

"Seriously, if Karen saw you now, he would definitely regret spitting his snot on you when you were a kid."

Celia shrank her neck and complained, "I've never worn clothes like this before, I feel so uncomfortable. Wasn't this supposed to be a buffet? How did Dad get invitations to this kind of banquet? And three of them! Wow! Isn't that the senator on the poster? Something like 'Short and Deaf'?"

"It's Elon—shh, don't let anyone hear, or the airborne troops will arrest you."

"oh oh."

Celia showed absolutely no self-awareness as a Celestial Dragon of Grindelwald, acting like a country girl visiting the city for the first time, utterly uncouth. Hearing the siblings' whispering, the "father" walking in front stopped. The bearded man turned around and instructed, "You two wander around by yourselves. Some old friends of mine are visiting; I need to catch up."

Celia was shocked. "Dad, you have such high-level connections?"
"Is he a loan shark I met while playing cards?" she asked cautiously. "He dressed me up so nicely, you're not planning to give me to the old man as collateral to pay off his debts, to be his concubine who will massage his wife's back and legs, are you?"

"Sukabule, get the hell out of here." Old Man glared and blurted out a Northern Continent slang term.

My father is from the North. His name is so long and hard to pronounce that no one can read it. People who know him usually call him "Lieba," a nickname derived from a type of unpalatable bread from the North.

In his father's story, he traveled all over the world doing business when he was young and made a fortune. But then, somehow, he ended up in Aswell and opened a tavern in a quiet, uneventful alley. He served a few guys back and forth for fifteen or sixteen years.

Ever since Celia could remember, her father had been sitting behind the bar at the tavern, doing the accounts. He didn't drink, he was very stingy, afraid that a sip or two would wipe out the family fortune. His usual entertainment was playing bridge with the neighbors. He was a master at shirking his debts, arguing, and pretending to be confused, like a complete country bumpkin. Therefore, no one believed that he had ever been rich when he was young. He was just bragging. Who wouldn't boast about being a millionaire from out of town in Eswell?
However, he's a decent person. He's always willing to lend a hand when someone needs help, so people are generally happy to invite him to play cards.

Celia was picked up by her father. It is said that before he left the Northern Continent, he found an abandoned baby girl in front of a brothel. Seeing that the brothel was filthy and most of the customers were rude sailors, her father took pity on her and took her in, thus saving her from the fate of becoming a prostitute when she grew up.

The neighbors mostly treated this story as a joke; given the old man's stingy nature, how could he possibly adopt an orphan? Celia, however, believed it to be true, because two years later, her father adopted another baby boy—Yuse, who was standing nearby. From a young age, her father had told Celia that if it weren't for him, she would have become a prostitute, serving those fish-smelling sailors every day. Therefore, she should help out at the tavern, cleaning and serving dishes.
Celia felt lucky. The tavern didn't earn much, but her father still gritted his teeth and supported her and her brother through grammar school and private school, instead of sending them to Catholic Sunday school like the neighborhood kids, who had to start working early to support their families—for example, her childhood friend Karen, who is now a foreman in a factory in Seaville.

As for what happened during that year, it was all like a dream. He received Grindelwald's acceptance letter carried by an owl, entered that legendary academy, became an arcanist, and even met a wonderful piano teacher.
My dad also knows arcane magic, but only a little bit—it's like he just happened to have a bit of arcane talent, enough to open a bottle cap with his wand in a tavern.

Celia found a secluded corner to hide in, while her younger brother, Yuther, who had grown up in a big way, was not shy in such situations. He asked the waiter for a tray, went around to the restaurant, and brought back a plate of delicacies. He then began to eat voraciously, transforming into a glutton.

Yuther is fourteen years old this year, which is the age when he is growing. Two months ago, he was the same height as Celia, but now his eyes are already higher than his sister's head. He has grown taller in a flash.

The boy was quite handsome, especially his flaxen blonde hair, which Celia greatly envied. Her hair was much lighter than her brother's, making her look like a malnourished girl. However, the two were not related by blood, so their similar hair color was quite an interesting coincidence.

Uther also wore a suit, which was ordered at the same time as Celia's dress—his father believed that since Celia was going to Grindelwald to study, she couldn't be without a dress if there was a ball or something. He was very willing to spend money on these kinds of things, and he also got a suit for Uther to show his equality with his children.

The crisp fabric of the suit made the boy's figure appear more mature. The saying "clothes make the man" is indeed true. The usually immature younger brother now looked quite noble, like a young master from a distinguished family.

But it was different for her. She was wearing an expensive evening gown, but her chest couldn't support any curves. She was also very tall. Celia felt like a tall, thin sugarcane dressed in a beautiful dress, and she didn't even have much of an appetite.

"No, no, I'll just have some bread."

Celia refused the lobster tail her brother offered her.

"Sis, are you a picky eater, young lady? This is lobster!" Yuther lowered her voice, afraid that the people around them would look down on them. "Damn, I've never seen a lobster before. Might as well eat it, it's free anyway."

"The academy's cafeteria has one, and it's free," Celia said softly. "You eat, I'll go get it for you."

The music faded, and the crowd fell silent, craning their necks to watch the spirited young congressman walk onto the podium. Elon raised his champagne glass, his steady, reliable voice carrying through the arcane megaphone to every corner of the museum—

"Respect to you, respect to Ashwell."

He raised his glass and drank it all in one gulp. The guests followed suit, raising their glasses in response with shouts of "To the beloved Swell!" rising and falling like waves, followed by thunderous applause. This man possessed a natural charisma that effortlessly drew everyone into a sense of community.

Celia also subconsciously raised her glass, which was filled with bubbling champagne. As the daughter of the tavern owner, she had occasionally sneaked a drink since she was a child and had a decent alcohol tolerance. On the other hand, Yuther was being watched by his sister under the pretext that "minors are not allowed to drink alcohol," so he could only pretend to drink with a glass of juice.

While Elon was giving his speech and everyone's attention was on him, the siblings slipped through the crowd to grab some snacks that were previously difficult to reach, giving off a feeling of children attending an adult's wedding but only thinking about the meal.

Occasionally, she would stand still and listen to what Elon was saying. If you disregarded the fact that her sister was Grindelwald's student, the two of them were both children from the lower class in East Wales, and they didn't care about politics. Their hushed conversations were all about strange and interesting things.

"What does it mean for the economic growth rate to increase month-on-month and to be stable and positive?" Celia asked blankly.

"Several West is still the same as before, but East West is making money." Yuther often heard tavern patrons discussing national affairs, and Little Know-It-All was one of them.

"He's amazing! He doesn't even need a script for his speech. If I stood up there, I'd probably stammer and wouldn't even be able to finish a sentence."

“I memorized it beforehand.” Yuther crossed his arms and commented with feigned maturity, “Being a politician is tough.”

"Thank goodness, I don't think I'll ever need to give public speeches in my life, so I won't have to suffer like that." Celia mumbled through her small cake, "Youser, after you finish university, are you considering becoming a civil servant? You're much bolder than me. Dad took you to negotiate prices with wine merchants since you were little, so I don't think public speaking should be a problem for you."

"A civil servant? Our family's circumstances probably don't allow it." "Hey, even though Dad's no good, I've got you covered!" Celia said proudly, "Once I graduate from Grindelwald and become a super awesome arcane mage, finding a job for my little brother will be a piece of cake!"

Did you pass your make-up midterm exams?

"I'll beat you up."

The two chatted casually. Merlin's sculpture was in the distance among the crowd. Not all of the hundreds of guests at the banquet were listening to Elon speak. Most of the people on the periphery were women, and there were also some who, like the siblings, were doing nothing.

"Although he didn't call you, Quinn likes you, I know he likes you, he really wants to ask you to dance, he just doesn't know how to say it."

A slightly stern voice came from behind. Celia subconsciously turned around and saw a mother and daughter.

The beautiful woman exuded an air of nobility even among the many guests at the banquet. The diamond necklace on her chest was as big as a palm, its brilliance drawing envy from all. Her daughter, a girl of fifteen or sixteen, wore a navy blue evening gown that suited her like a princess in a crown. Her long pink hair was meticulously styled into gorgeous curls, and her ample bosom made Celia feel ashamed of herself.

What a beautiful girl.
Celia couldn't help but wonder, if she had the same family background, would her life be any different?

However, she wasn't envious. Although her father wasn't wealthy, his love for her and her brother was second to none. I also own evening gowns, well... but I still can't pull off those that subtly reveal skin.
The girl looked somewhat dejected, seemingly not listening to what her mother was saying, and absentmindedly glancing at the second-floor balcony every now and then.

"What's wrong?" Yuse noticed her sister's unusual behavior.

“It’s nothing.” Celia looked away. “I think I misheard you just now.”

"Wow, what a beauty." Having grown up in Axwell, Yuther's speech still carried some of the crude language of the Northern Continent, influenced by his father. "Her hair is the same color as the councilor's; could they be siblings?"

"Stop looking, that's impolite. Go over there, I see strawberry mousse."

"Didn't you say you weren't hungry?"

"Women have two stomachs, one for dessert."

Compared to her younger brother, Celia was much better raised. Perhaps she was lucky; from childhood to adulthood, she had only learned and kind teachers who taught her by example, and her character was so noble that she seemed like a royal courtier.

Although the two men weren't really interested in what Elon was saying, they could sense that the atmosphere was unusually enthusiastic; people seemed to be anticipating something. Anticipation, tension, excitement, detached observation, scrutiny—a mix of emotions swirled around Elon, but none were directed at him. His speech was short; he finished speaking and stepped down after five or six minutes, and another young man took the microphone.

With a wide lapel and cuffs adorned with gold and silver embroidery, pure white tight-fitting riding breeches, red high-top pointed leather boots, and a rapier at his waist, such an extravagant outfit makes him instantly recognizable as a British nobleman.

Although British fashion sense is viewed with mixed opinions around the world and is even criticized by the people of Ron, many people, including guests from the Kingdom of Ron, gave him the warmest applause when he took the stage.

However, a small number of people did not applaud, such as the British members of the Eswell City Council, who stared coldly at the person on the stage.

Elon had previously introduced him to Sir Anderson of Britain.

Sensing the contrasting atmosphere of ice and fire, Celia subconsciously asked her younger brother, "Is this person related to our city?"

To the native Aswellians, the concept of a nation is this mountain, while neighboring Britain and Ron are neighboring countries. Celia doesn't even know what's happening in her own city, let alone what's going on in Britain.

"Don't they talk about Britain at all in the academy?" Yuther wondered.

Thinking of her classmates who constantly and intensely insulted the Emperor and studied pornography in class, Celia said helplessly, "...They only care about arcane magic."

“King Aaron of Britain went mad two months ago—” Uther whispered, “You know about the Child of Prophecy, don’t you?”

“I know that.” Celia nodded. Although she didn’t attend church services often, she was still a follower of the Eternal Church and naturally knew about the Dragon Lord’s prophecy.

"In order to search for the prophesied son, he sealed off Britain, allowing entry but not exit without permission. All young men aged fifteen to eighteen in the country were required to attempt to pull the holy sword, and the army was deployed to search house to house. Those who did not cooperate were executed on the spot."

Celia blinked. "Did he find him?"

"No, because there are too many people wanting to pull out the holy sword. Just the waiting list alone takes a month, plus the round trip, two or three months are wasted. Now, because of this, there are protests over there again, but the army is suppressing them directly. The newspapers say quite a few people have died."

“Tsk, what a scoundrel.” Celia looked at Sir Anderson, who was quite agitated on the stage. “What’s he here for?”

"I don't know either"

After listening for a while, Yuther said uncertainly, "Uh, this guy... seems to be a royalist?"

"so?"

"We're here to beg for a favor."

Sir Anderson delivered a passionate speech on the podium; his voice carried throughout the hall without even needing a megaphone.

"Gentlemen! That despicable usurper is destroying the great Britain! Aswell and Britain are separated by only one land, and have helped each other for thousands of years. Therefore, I formally request you to support the true King of Britain and our war of rebellion in the province of Lawrence!"

"I promise, on behalf of the new king, that those who extend a helping hand will be granted twenty years of tax-free trade! You will become the benefactors of Britain, and land, money, and titles will be no object!"

"You need to know, you must know—"

His voice boomed like thunder, passionate and stirring—

"The Child of Prophecy is the hero! Britain is the future of Temurian! Investing in the Child of Prophecy is investing in the future!!"

(End of this chapter)