Evolving by devouring from a young dragon

"The domed banquet hall," the guide introduced, his voice tinged with barely concealed pride.

"One of the landmark buildings of the Golden Manuscript Dome City, it was jointly funded and built by the Cast Gold Family, one of the thirteen major conglomerates, and the Deep Pulse Chamber of Commerce."

Tonight's Golden Cocktail Party will be held on the top floor, across five levels of corridors, tiered according to guest rank. You are a second-class VIP, seated in the middle corridor.

The shuttle platform slowly docked on the suspended pier on the top floor of the banquet hall.

As Grimm stepped onto the dock, his boots were not treading on stone slabs, but on some kind of translucent, high-strength magical material. It felt slightly soft underfoot, and each step created a faint blue ripple effect at the point of contact with his foot.

After taking three steps, he realized that it wasn't water, but rather a photosensitive reaction of the ground material itself.

The experience of just these three steps is enough for a remote tribe to buy food for a year.

At the end of the dock is a giant arched gate.

The door frame was cast from goblin alloy and its surface was engraved with three layers of runes: the outer layer was magic-resistant, the middle layer was physical impact-resistant, and the inner layer was an identification array.

Four guards stood on each side of the door, wearing not the standard breastplates that Grimm had seen before, but full suits of alloy plate armor.

The armor plates were inlaid with glowing protective runes, and the helmet's magic vision lenses gleamed with an eerie green light in the twilight.

The guards stood like iron statues, each with their hands on the handles of their magic guns at their waists, their gazes locked onto Grimm the moment he stepped onto the dock... or more precisely, locked onto the fire spirit on his shoulder.

The attendant showed a crystal token, which the captain of the guard bowed to verify. He then stepped back and slammed his right fist heavily on his breastplate: "Please come in."

The archway opened with a click.

The moment Grimm stepped into the banquet hall, a chill enveloped him from all directions.

The Magic Air Conditioning System maintains a constant temperature and humidity, keeping the temperature just right—neither too hot nor too cold.

But at this moment, Grimm didn't care about the coolness; his eyes were filled with the sight before him.

The top floor of the domed banquet hall is a huge circular space, with a diameter of at least a hundred feet.

The ceiling is a single curved piece of magical crystal, with tens of thousands of tiny magical crystal fragments embedded inside, arranged in a constellation pattern, each fragment slowly changing color.

From cool white to warm yellow, from warm yellow to pale blue, it's as if you're seeing a whole night sky above the dome.

A giant magical chandelier hangs in the very center of the dome. The chandelier's frame is made of pure silver alloy, and the lampshade is made of a single piece of transparent magic crystal. Inside, a fist-sized eternal light core floats. Every time the light core jumps, the star map on the dome changes in sync.

The circular space is divided into five levels of corridors.

The lowest level is an open central hall with dozens of round tables covered with dark gold magical silk. The silk is woven with shimmering runes that change patterns depending on the angle of the light.

This is the seat for the lowest-ranking guest.

Although "lowest grade" is only relative here, the tableware on each round table is made of pure silver inlaid with magic crystal powder, and the wine glasses are made of a single piece of crystal, with the wine inside leaving delicate tear stains on the glass.

In the center of the hall stood a champagne tower three zhang tall, its body made up of thousands of crystal glasses. Champagne flowed continuously from a suspended magic crystal ball at the top of the tower, passing through each glass without spilling a single drop.

Grimm stared for a full three breaths before looking away.

The second-level corridor was where representatives of middle-class tribes and tycoons were seated, and it was also where Grimm was assigned his position.

The circular corridor is suspended in mid-air and supported by twelve pure gold pillars, each of which is carved with an epic relief.

The goblin ancestors raised their pickaxes, the goblin craftsmen forged the first alchemical weapon, the goblin merchants crossed the desert to open the first trade route, and the goblin fleet traversed the Storm Sea...

Grimm's gaze lingered for a moment on one of the pillars.

The relief depicts a group of goblins surrounding a fallen dragon, with a huge pickaxe stuck in the dragon's chest.

He didn't know if it was a legend from the time of Gudakani, but the image made his heart skip a beat.

The third-floor corridor is where tribal chiefs and large merchant guilds are seated. Instead of round tables, there are private rooms, each separated by a floating magical crystal. These rooms overlook the central hall, but the people inside cannot be seen from the outside.

The fourth floor is an exclusive area for core members of the royal family and conglomerates. The entrance is guarded by four constructs, and entry is prohibited for unauthorized personnel.

The fifth floor is the narrowest, almost touching the dome, with only three suspended private boxes. The outer walls of each box are engraved with the highest-ranking crests of different families.

Grimm recognized one of them as the emblem of the Goldsmith family, one of the thirteen great goblin magnates.

The air was filled with the aromas of wine and food, as well as a faint hint of magic.

Soft, melodious instrumental music drifted from afar.

Grim looked up and saw that the sound was coming from the magic resonance box. Each note was like a water droplet sliding off a crystal, crisp and round.

Grimm stood at the entrance to the second-level corridor, leaning on his cane. Behind him was the floating dock, and in front of him was a scene of luxury he had never seen or imagined before.

His hands gripped the handle of his cane tightly.

The fire spirit gently shifted its paw on his shoulder and let out a soft chirp, as if reminding him to relax.

He took a deep breath and walked into the corridor with his cane.

The second-floor corridor was already filled with guests.

Long tables were arranged along the curved corridor, covered with silver-gray magical linen tablecloths, the edges of which were embroidered with the logo of the Imperial Ministry of Commerce.

Each chair is a high-backed, soft chair with tiny thermostatic runes embedded in the backrest, automatically adjusting to the most comfortable temperature when you sit on it.

Appetizers were already laid out on the table.

It wasn't the meat and bread Grimm usually ate, but something Grimm couldn't name:

Thinly sliced ​​crystal fruit is arranged in a fan shape and drizzled with some kind of luminous sauce;

The small dish contained thumb-sized magical fish roe, each one slowly glowing.

There were also three aperitifs of different colors, with the glasses themselves having built-in insulated runes, and a fine layer of water droplets condensing on the glass.

Grimm sat down in his seat.

The fire spirit jumped off his shoulder and landed on the table in front of him, tilting its head to look at the dish of magical fish roe, and gave a soft chirp.

Grimm gently reminded the Fire Spirit:

"Don't move. This isn't a tribe. You don't know who you might offend."

Fire Spirit glanced at him, chirped again, but didn't touch the fish roe. Instead, it buried its head under its wing and dozed off.

He sat up straight and began to observe the people around him.

Most of the guests around were goblins, dressed in clothes that were clearly more luxurious than those of the people on the street.

Some wore the workshop owner's mark on their collars, some had the merchant guild emblem embroidered on their cuffs, and some wore identification rings similar to those worn by Durlom on their fingers.

Between each table stood waiters in dark blue uniforms, each with a portable storage box hanging from their waist, ready to retrieve anything a guest might need.