The week moved faster than Jake expected.

He spent the days preparing—not just for the feast but for the inevitable confrontation with Kunther. Training sessions with the shadow serpents, testing new combinations of his abilities, and running scenarios in his mind about how to handle a Class II Talent Rank 2 opponent without killing him but making the point stick.

On the third day, he sent word to Lady Matilda.

The message was simple: he would accept her proposal, but on his terms and his timeline. She would have his protection starting immediately, not contingent on marriage but guaranteed by his word as Raikarndel heir. The formal arrangement could be discussed after he’d dealt with Kunther.

Her relief had been palpable even through the written response.

The feast arrived before Kunther made his move.

Jake stood in his chambers while staff helped him into formal clothing that felt wrong on his body—a dark tailored jacket over a crisp white shirt, trousers that fit properly instead of being designed for combat mobility, and boots polished until they reflected light. He looked like nobility instead of a fighter, which was presumably the point.

Elise appeared in the doorway wearing a dress that transformed her completely from the pirate queen he’d met on the Darkwhale. Dark blue fabric that moved like water, fitted at the waist and flowing below, her hair arranged in a style that suggested wealth and breeding rather than years spent commanding a fleet. She looked uncomfortable.

"I hate formal events," she muttered.

"You look good, though."

"I look like bait for political marriage proposals."

She adjusted the dress with visible irritation. "Which is probably what half these gatherings are actually about—powerful people showing off their attractive agents to see if they can broker alliances through strategic coupling."

"Is that what we’re doing?"

"We’re showing up representing the bottom-tier goddess with two agents nobody’s heard of and hoping we don’t embarrass ourselves."

Elise smiled without humor. "Low expectations are our friend tonight."

Asurani materialized in the entrance hall as they descended the stairs, and Jake stopped mid-step because the goddess had brought a carriage that wasn’t bound by normal physics.

It floated three feet off the ground, crafted from wood that gleamed like pearl and metal that caught light in colors that had no names. The carriage itself was beautiful in an otherworldly way, but what drew Jake’s attention were the creatures pulling it—swans, massive and white, their wings spanning twice Jake’s height and their eyes containing the same unnatural intelligence he’d seen in the shadow serpents he manifested.

"Our transport," Asurani said, noting his stare.

"Can’t have my agents arriving on foot like common adventurers."

They climbed into the carriage—plush seats, more space inside than the exterior dimensions suggested—and the swans lifted them into the air without visible effort. The motion was smooth, completely unlike the mechanical feeling of Windrunner’s magical propulsion, as though they were riding a cloud that happened to know where they were going.

Roakan fell away below them as they climbed higher than any flying ship Jake had seen, the city becoming a pattern of lights and terraces that spread across the mountains like civilization making art out of geography.

Then they were above the cloud line, moving through air that was thin and cold and absolutely still.

"Where are we going?" Jake asked.

"The Suspended Palace," Asurani said.

"Technically it exists in multiple locations simultaneously—divine architecture doesn’t follow your standard spatial rules—but the entrance we’re using appears in the Eastern Reaches, about two hundred miles from Roakan. Neutral ground, not controlled by any single covenant, maintained by collective divine agreement as a meeting place."

Elise was looking out the window with an expression mixing wonder and wariness.

"I heard rumors about this place when I was still with Naktuna. She never took me, saying I wasn’t important enough to justify the political complications of bringing an agent to covenant gatherings."

"Well, I think you’re important," Asurani said.

"And I want people to see what my covenant is building. Two agents, both competent, both growing rapidly. That’s more than most bottom-tier gods can claim."

The journey took an hour through clouds and starlight, and when the Suspended Palace came into view, Jake understood why it had the name.

It didn’t sit on the ground. It floated in the air like someone had taken a massive structure and simply decided gravity was optional. The palace was enormous—towers and courtyards and wings spreading across what looked like miles of real estate, all of it suspended in atmosphere with no visible support. The architecture mixed styles from cultures Jake didn’t recognize, as though multiple divine traditions had collaborated on the design and refused to compromise, resulting in something that was simultaneously beautiful and visually chaotic.

Other carriages approached from different directions—some pulled by winged horses, others by creatures Jake had no names for, one of which appeared to be made entirely from condensed lightning that left afterimages against his retinas. The divine transport queue, apparently.

They landed on a platform of white marble that floated at the palace’s edge, and Jake stepped out onto stone that felt solid despite having nothing underneath it.

The air here was different—charged with divine presence so thick he could taste it, his blood sense registering hundreds of powerful entities contained within the palace’s walls.

"Stay close," Asurani said quietly.

"Don’t start fights. Don’t make promises without consulting me first. And remember that everyone here is sizing you up for weaknesses. Be polite, be confident, and if someone challenges you to anything, smile and tell them you’ll consider it."

"What about actual duels?" Elise asked.

"Won’t happen at the feast itself—Artiemes enforces strict no-violence rules inside the palace. But someone will probably challenge you outside later, and that’s your choice whether to accept." Asurani’s eyes moved between them.

"Try not to die embarrassingly. It reflects poorly on me."

"Comforting," Jake muttered.

They entered through massive doors that opened without anyone touching them, and the interior was even more overwhelming than the exterior. The entry hall was three stories tall with a ceiling painted in murals that moved—scenes of divine battles and legendary agents, constantly shifting as though the paint itself was alive. Crystal chandeliers hung in defiance of physics, their light scattering in patterns that hurt to look at directly.