"This is Ron, whom I mentioned to you! The dungeon designer who has recently become famous! The E-rank dungeon Black Whisper Caves is his masterpiece!"
Chapter 37 Count Martel
Count Martel slowly turned his dark red eyes, his gaze falling on Ron with a weighty intensity, as if trying to see through Ron inside and out.
An invisible pressure spread out.
At the same time, in Ron's vision, as if an automatically unfolding parchment scroll had clearly revealed lines of dark green data:
[Name: Martel]
Race: Vampire
[Level: LV75]
[Experience: 5837343/14424741]
[Racial Trait: Extra-long Lifespan]
Skill Slot 1: ???, Skill Slot 2: ???, Skill Slot 3: ???...
"hiss……"
Ron gasped inwardly:
"Level 75! My god, it takes a ton of experience to level up... and eight skills?! And they're all hidden?! This is monster..."
The sheer impact of this panel was no less than the presence of the count himself.
He quickly regained his composure, suppressed the turmoil in his heart, and respectfully bowed in greeting:
"My Lord Count."
Martel's thin lips curved slightly, revealing an enigmatic smile, his voice deep and pleasant:
"Carolina is always generous with her praise, but for her to speak so highly of you, little one... you really deserve attention."
He nodded gracefully to Ron, then told Carolina to “take good care of your friend,” before turning to walk toward another group of guests who were greeting him.
Ron let out a soft sigh, while Carolina winked playfully and pulled him toward the floating bar in the corner.
"Relax!"
She floated up lightly, took two glasses of liquid that looked like flowing rubies from the waiter's tray that was floating in mid-air, and handed one to Ron:
"Try this, Blood Rose Honey Wine from the Eternal Night Forest."
Ron took the glass, the cool glass seeping through his fingertips.
He leaned against the edge of the polished obsidian bar, took a sip of liquor, which was warm and slightly sweet and fishy, and his gaze swept with interest over the "people" in the hall.
Lava demons, frost giants, succubi disguised as noblewomen...
A diverse array of dungeon creatures, bathed in the glow of magic, enact a bizarre yet magnificent social dance drama.
In the most prominent position at the front of the hall, a huge, azure blue magic crystal ball with a diameter of more than two yards floats.
The crystal ball rotated slowly inside, like a cosmic nebula, while its surface clearly projected the same dungeon ranking information as that on Ironflame Square.
The names of the underground cities are like stars embedded in the surface, each shining with a different luster.
Just then, a breeze carrying the scent of powder approached, accompanied by a crisp "click, click" sound like horseshoes striking.
A tall, slender young man came up to them.
He had a handsome yet sinister face, with a pair of sharp goat horns that gleamed with obsidian on his forehead. Most peculiar of all were his legs, with short, black hooves covered in short hair below the knees.
Name: Elodis
[Race: Satyr]
[Level: LV15]
[Experience: 101/258]
[Racial Trait: Automatic Invisibility]
[Skill Slot 1: Mad Flute Melody, Skill Slot 2: Curse of Pleasure, Skill Slot 3: Empty]
The panel information popped up instantly.
As soon as the young satirical man named Elodis stood still, he ignored Ron and bowed deeply and gracefully to Carolina, his head almost touching his knees, his hoof-shaped legs curving in an unusual arc.
"Miss Carolina."
His voice carried a deliberately ornate tone:
"On such a enchanting night, to witness the brilliance of your 'Eternal Moon' is truly a great honor for me, Elodis."
Carolina stood up, nodded slightly, her manners impeccable:
Good evening, Mr. Elodis.
She then turned to Ron and introduced him naturally:
“Ron, this is Mr. Elodis, the lord of the Kant dungeon and son of Lord Bakus. His father ruled the fearsome S-rank dungeon ‘Carnival Labyrinth’.”
Ron put down his glass, gave a professional, friendly smile, and extended his hand:
"Hello, Mr. Elodis."
However, Elodis merely glanced at Ron's outstretched hand and tapped her hooves lightly on the ground with a light, rhythmic sound.
He maintained a near-perfect smile on his face, but his eyes flashed with undisguised indifference and contempt, as if he were looking at a flying insect that had mistakenly entered a palace.
His hands remained hanging at his sides, showing no intention of shaking hands.
Carolina's expression darkened slightly, but she maintained her composure and continued her introduction:
"This is Mr. Ron, a talented dungeon designer. The E-rank dungeon 'Black Whisper Caves,' which recently caused quite a stir in the Adventurers' Guild, was designed and built by him."
"Oh?"
Elodis seemed to have just noticed Ron's presence. She raised her eyebrows slightly, her usual disdain remaining, and a half-smile curved her lips.
"Black Language Cave..."
He seemed to be searching for the name deep in his memory, then drew out the words:
"It seems... I vaguely remember it? Just a trivial beginner dungeon."
The tone was as if they were talking about some novel name for a garbage dump.
Immediately afterwards, ignoring the designer he had just labeled "insignificant," he turned directly to Carolina, bowed gracefully once more, and extended a slender hand:
“Miss Carolina, this beautiful melody—”
He listened intently to the prelude coming from the direction of the dance floor:
"How could I possibly refuse? Would I have the honor of inviting you to dance with me? Let my steps follow the shimmering light of your skirt?"
Carolina's brows furrowed even more. She glanced instinctively at Ron beside her, then shook her head without hesitation, her voice clearly refusing:
“I’m sorry, Mr. Elodis. I’ve already agreed to Ron’s next dance.”
Being rejected in public, a faint, venomous shadow flashed across Elodis's handsome face, so quickly it was almost an illusion.
His gaze finally fixed on Ron, and his initial contempt suddenly transformed into an aggressive scrutiny and mockery.
“Ron…right?”
He took a small step forward, approaching with the unsettling, distinctive tapping sound of a sheep's hoof:
"What did Miss Carolina say just now? She wanted you to dance? Forgive my bluntness—" He scoffed, his laughter high-pitched and grating, filled with blatant mockery.
"Someone like you... a poor kid from the slums, knows the aristocratic dance of our underworld? It's not... something you learned from the mud, the stomping and swaying of those savages, is it?"
Every word was like a needle dipped in venom.
Carolina's face turned cold, and she was about to reprimand him when Ron calmly stood up and stood between her and the young man, Sartre.
He even had a faint smile on his face as he stared directly into Elodis's eyes, which were burning with malice.
Chapter 38 The King of Ballroom Dancing
“Oh? Elo… um…”
Ron deliberately dragged out his words, feigning a thoughtful expression, then waved his hand with genuine confusion:
"Sorry, the name is too hard to pronounce. It's not important, I can't remember it right now."
Before Elodis's face could show any anger, Ron continued calmly:
"As for dancing... since you're so interested, how about—"
He paused deliberately, his gaze sweeping over the several pairs of eyes that had already been subtly drawn to him:
"How about we have a dance contest? There has to be a way to determine who wins and who loses, right?"
Elodis's eyes flashed with ecstasy; this was exactly what she wanted!
This lowly commoner actually walked right into our trap! Trying to dance with the Sartres?
That's incredibly stupid!
Who in aristocratic circles didn't know that Sartre's dance steps were the result of innate talent and arduous practice?
Moreover, he is Kanté's successor!
"Okay!"
Elodis immediately chimed in, her voice rising slightly with excitement:
"The loser... shall leave the banquet immediately, shall we? Fair enough?"
He slightly raised his chin, and could almost see the scene of the other person being kicked out in a sorry state.
leave?
That's exactly what Ron wants right now, since he doesn't recognize any of these "monsters" present except for Carolina.
Ashamed?
Compared to dealing with these boring social engagements, what does that matter?
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