The Emperor's Dance
That night.
The main hall of The Feast was filled with a sultry heat, charged with a secretive, suffocating tension that was entirely different from its usual atmosphere.
It was the moment when the "true VIP-exclusive showtime"—a secret event to which only a select few who had paid astronomical sums of gold were invited—was about to begin.
This was a special stage tucked away in the deepest, most secluded corner of The Feast, its very existence known to only a rare few.
The walls were draped in luxurious black velvet hangings, and the floor was carpeted with a plush, crimson rug.
Alongside the soft glow of magical lamps placed on every table, dozens of tiny crystal spheres suspended from the ceiling reflected a dazzling array of lights, bathing the entire space in a dreamlike hue.
It was a forbidden sanctuary where the uninvited would never dare to set foot.
The air inside the hall was already stiflingly hot. Amidst the low, rumbling music, the excited murmurs of the VIPs rolled in like waves.
"What kind of ecstasy will you show us tonight, Madame Tana?"
"That beastkin wench last time was absolutely spectacular! Tonight had better live up to that!"
An old noble, clearly deep in his cups, shouted as he swirled his glass. His eyes were already gleaming with raw lust.
"Rumor has it that the woman taking the stage tonight is the most beautiful and mysterious creature in all of The Feast. I can't wait to see if she lives up to the hype. I'd wager my entire fortune just to have her!"
At another table, a young merchant boasted loudly, drawing the attention of those around him. The companion sitting beside him clicked his tongue in disbelief, but his eyes, too, were filled with curiosity.
"Hmph, she's just pie in the sky anyway. A woman like that wouldn't even grant commoners like us a single night's dream. Still, I'd love to dream it just once."
Slowly and silently, all the artificial lights in the hall went out.
Moments later, mysterious beams of light swept across the stage, crisscrossing the floor.
The magical crystal spheres installed along the walls pulsed alternately with red and blue light, painting the entire space in secretive, provocative colors.
A thick, magically conjured mist rolled across the floor, enhancing the dreamlike atmosphere, while a dizzyingly sweet, seductive, yet subtly dangerous scent of musk and ripe fruit drifted through the air.
The fragrance seemed to stimulate the deepest recesses of the subconscious, tapping into primal desires.
The languid, sensual melodies played by the musicians began to fill the hall.
The heart-thumping resonance of low string instruments and the slow, powerful rhythm of percussion intersected, gradually building the audience's anticipation to a fever pitch as the stage was set.
Behind the stage, shrouded in darkness, Madame Tana stood looking even more voluptuous and charismatic than usual.
With blood-red lips and a satisfied glint in her eyes, looking like a queen of the night, she gently but firmly wrapped her arm around Luciel's cold shoulder and whispered in a low, seductive voice.
"Luciel. It's your turn. Keep this in mind: tonight's stage isn't some cheap entertainment where you vulgarly expose your flesh. Every single movement of yours must become living art."
Art, my foot. You should have helped me practice my dancing instead of spouting this nonsense, you old hag.
Luciel cursed Tana inwardly, but outwardly, she maintained an expression of understanding.
Tana continued.
"You mustn't be too direct or explicit. Move slowly, elegantly. Act as if it's nothing, yet make it more lethal than any other pleasure—seeping into their hearts like poisoned honey."
She stared deep into Luciel's eyes and delivered her final words.
"Make them entirely yours. You can do it. No... you are the only one in The Feast who can create such a stage. Your cold gaze, your mysterious aura... tonight, those arrogant nobles will kneel at your feet like dogs."
Her gaze held a madness that transcended mere trust.
Like an artist sensing the birth of a masterpiece, Tana was anticipating a work of art through Luciel.
In the waiting room.
Luciel stood before a mirror flickering under a dim magical lamp, wearing long black mesh gloves and a form-fitting bunny girl outfit.
Her reflection in the mirror was no longer ridiculous or pathetic.
Just as she had resolved in her heart after meeting Eltar, this was a weapon she had chosen for herself.
Slowly curling her lips, she spoke in a low, sharp voice.
"Madame, don't I look like a well-trained clown kept around to make you money? No, perhaps I've already become a real clown."
Those words carried not mere resignation, but a deep cynicism toward the entire world and a twisted resolve.
It was the venomous remark that only someone clinging to the very edge of their monstrous pride on stage could utter.
Bruka patted Luciel on the shoulder, speaking in a voice that was uncharacteristically serious and encouraging.
"But you're good at this. Your gaze doesn't waver even a fraction. That's the mark of a true professional. That icy composure of yours is exactly what drives people crazy. Hang in there."
Miren stepped up beside Luciel and said with a gentle smile,
"Luciel, there's no need to be so tense. Just be yourself, and show them that cold, haughty charm of yours. They'll go wild for it. And... who knows? Maybe tonight will change your life."
Sia wrapped her arms tightly around Luciel's slender waist from behind, whispering in her usual affectionate, yet slightly anxious and nervous tone.
"Eonni, I think you look much sexier when you're clothed than when you're naked. Especially your eyes. That deep, cold gaze that looks like it could swallow the whole world is truly the best. But I absolutely hate the thought of those sleazy nobles feasting their eyes on your beautiful self tonight. You're my goddess, Eonni... I don't want to show you to anyone else."
The end of her voice trembled slightly with jealousy.
Luciel let out a deep sigh and said,
"That... doesn't sound like a compliment, Sia!"
Yet, a faint, almost imperceptible smile played on her lips. She didn't dislike Sia's pure, almost childlike jealousy. Perhaps she even found it a little cute.
Luciel replied calmly,
"Thanks for worrying, but I'm fine. In fact, I'm looking forward to it. The thought of stealing the souls of those filthy nobles tonight is quite exhilarating."
Finally, all the magical lamps on the stage flared in unison, casting an even more intense red glow.
The musicians' melody grew fiercer, heating the air in the hall to its limit.
The stage was a long semi-circle, covered in pitch-black velvet that rippled like a river of night. In the center, a smooth pole crafted from ebony stretched straight toward the ceiling.
On either side, blue magical smoke drifted up dreamily, while magically conjured red rose petals fluttered down from the ceiling like dry tears.
The scene was utterly decadent yet breathtakingly beautiful.
Gold coins and jewels thrown by the patrons were already glittering on the railings at the edge of the stage.
Luciel stepped out toward the center.
Her steps were silent, confident, and majestic.
Like a celestial maiden walking on clouds, or a black panther silently stalking its prey.
With every step she took, the very air shifted.
Even the breathing of the audience ceased, every eye locked onto her.
"Ohhh... she's finally here. They call her the 'Jewel of The Feast,' and indeed...!"
"Look at that gaze! An arrogance as if she owns the entire world... yet she looks so sorrowful! It's driving me mad!"
Low gasps of admiration escaped the nobles.
For the first few steps, Luciel swayed her body slightly to the music.
Her mesh-gloved hands caressed her thighs sensually, yet with restraint.
Once the audience's gaze was completely locked onto her, Luciel maintained a calm expression and began to slowly undo the ties of her outfit, as if performing the most tedious task in the world.
As the black mesh slid down, the skin revealed beneath gleamed like marble under the moonlight.
She perfectly orchestrated every fingertip movement, every turn of her head.
In the touch that brushed her neck and slid down her waist, there was not just sensuality, but majesty.
Her eyes were cold, yet they harbored a deep, hidden flame.
That flame ignited the most primal desires of those who watched.
This is no mere dance. This is a declaration. I am no longer your toy. Now, you will become my slaves.
She whispered those words behind her expressionless face.
The audience held their breath, and even the nobles, who represented the ugliest desires of The Feast, surrendered completely before her.
"Look at that waistline! It must have been sculpted by the gods themselves!"
"That icy gaze, yet her movements are like fire! If I could only conquer that woman, I would give up my entire fortune!"
Luciel twisted her waist slightly, exposing the line of her back, and as the mesh slipped further, her voluptuous breasts were tantalizingly revealed in the red light.
She tilted her head back, parting her lips slightly to offer a mocking, sensual smile.
That smile whispered without words:
I did not come to test your desires. I stood here to watch you kneel before me.
The music reached its climax.
She caressed the pole like an old lover, spinning her body with fluid grace.
Slowly dropping to her knees, she placed her hands on the floor and arched her back as smoothly as a cat.
Every single movement was pure art.
The audience could no longer contain themselves, dissolving into groans, cheers, and heavy panting.
"Beautiful! She is the ultimate masterpiece!"
Gold coins and jewels rained down onto the stage like a torrential downpour.
After finishing her final movement, Luciel slowly stood up and cast a cold gaze straight ahead.
That gaze spoke with absolute clarity:
I rule over all of you.
At that moment, all the lights on the stage went out, leaving only a single, intense beam of red light illuminating her body.
In that light, she stood like a goddess who had torn through the veil of night, or an avatar of vengeance destined to destroy everything.
The audience, unable to contain their frenzy any longer, shook the entire hall with explosive cheers and applause.
"Bravo! Luciel! You are a goddess!"
"I would wager my entire fortune just to buy a single night with you!"
Luciel felt, amidst the chaos, that she was not a mere commodity in this Feast, but its true ruler—or at least, she could make herself appear as one.
That night, Luciel's dance transcended mere physical movement. It sublimated into an art form that contained her suppressed lust for power, her burning desire for revenge, and her desperate will to survive.
On that stage, she carved out a new path of her own, and upon it, she began to prepare to shake the world once more—slowly, but with absolute certainty.
As the performance concluded, Madame Tana stepped onto the center of the stage with a seductive smile.
"Ladies and gentlemen! Tonight, please give a warm round of applause for the brightest jewel of our Feast, Luciel! And now, we shall begin a very special auction to win a night with this beautiful goddess! The starting bid is one thousand gold coins! Now, who will be the lucky protagonist of this night?"
The hall was instantly engulfed in a fanatical frenzy.
"One thousand gold!"
"Two thousand! She's mine!"
"Two thousand five hundred! If that's not enough, I'll wager half my estate!"
The bidding war, tangled with gold, jewels, and the pride of the nobles, spread like madness.
Amidst a suffocating silence, a gentleman whose face was concealed by an exquisitely crafted golden mask spoke quietly.
"...Thirty thousand gold coins."
At the absurdly astronomical sum, everyone gasped. For a moment, even time within The Feast seemed to grind to a halt.
Without a word, the gentleman handed Madame Tana several heavy bags filled with gold coins.
Overwhelmed with emotion, the madame bowed deeply, stepping closer to the gentleman as if to kiss the back of his hand.
"Oh, kind sir...! Luciel will surely grant you a night that far exceeds your expectations. She is the pride of The Feast—no, the jewel of this entire continent. Please, do visit us again!"
Madame Tana's voice was sweet as honey, her eyes dripping with flattery.
Yet, the gentleman merely nodded in silence. He approached Luciel and quietly draped a costly black velvet cloak over her shoulders.
"Shall we go, my lady?"
The voice filtering through the mask was low and smooth, but it carried an indefinable chill. Luciel followed him without a word.
Instead of leading her to one of the private rooms inside The Feast, the gentleman guided her out of the establishment entirely.
"I have purchased you until tomorrow. We are going to my manor."
Inside the carriage, the gentleman stared at Luciel without uttering a single word. His gaze was persistent, boring into her as if trying to strip away her outer layers, yet no emotion could be read from it.
Luciel responded with silence, merely gazing out the window at the dark night passing by.
The carriage rattled along for about an hour before finally passing through a massive iron gate and stopping in front of a grand manor.
Luciel felt it instinctively.
This man is no ordinary client.
And she had a premonition that what awaited her inside was by no means a normal night.
