Chapter 131

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Chapter 131: Can I

If Aryan’s capital city is rightfully considered the military and political center, then Tasmarin’s Ribe Lake is undoubtedly the economic and cultural hub on the land. The headquarters of the Southeast Chamber of Commerce and the Walke Artist Association are both located here, operating smoothly and often collaborating to achieve a good balance between business and art.

A grand exhibition without barriers unfolds throughout the city, with different neighborhoods focusing on different aspects, ranging from classic to avant-garde art. People can admire masterpieces by renowned artists in the spacious and bright exhibition halls, as well as converse with the lesser-known creators behind some quirky pieces.

"This represents people’s self-restraint in busy lives and mutual introspection," emphasized an artist.

"Oh…" Alan hesitated, "So those paint drips from the wall were not accidental…"

Alan, originally from the Amazon, had grown a small beard early on to offset his youthful looks with freckles. The Vice President of the Southeast Chamber of Commerce was not as dedicated as the President; he was here with his family for a festive outing, not for official duties. Unfortunately, his meticulously trendy attire, in vogue at Ribe Lake, somewhat revealed his wealth. Even without knowing Alan’s VP status, artists in need of sponsorship were eager to gather around him.

"It signifies people’s self-restraint in busy lives and mutual introspection," the artist reiterated seriously.

"That’s right," Alan paused, maintaining a smile, "it’s a form of art full of creativity."

"Mom, can I have an apple?" Alan’s young son’s voice could be heard in the background.

"Wait, don’t take that!" his mother Letizia hurriedly said, "That is an exhibit!"

Classical art was flourishing, and a new branch called "New Aryan" art movement was rising. Young artists were full of energy like wild grass in spring, eagerly exploring new paths. Their unconventional works were either admired or confusing to the audience.

"This is also my work, representing the uselessness of form and beauty in art. The aesthetic value of art is a result of people’s preconceptions," the artist proudly showed an apple on an armchair. "Just like the bow placed at the entrance, despite not knowing the author, the exquisite curve, aged patina on the bow, and the simple colors with hidden patterns are enough to show that the author and I are kindred spirits. After this exhibition, I must have a chat with them."

The vice president’s gaze shifted to the entrance of the exhibition hall, where the journalists’ flashes were continuous.

The media during the festival was always busy, journalists stopped at places that could be the center of attention. They documented and reported, bringing the scene to people all over the country, allowing readers and viewers to overlook the entire festive city. The emerging art of the "New Aryan" movement was showcased on a large scale in front of the public for the first time. Since these works were not restricted from being photographed like traditional artworks, major media outlets naturally rushed to these galleries like bees to flowers.

"This may look like just a short bow, but in fact, it is not!" a host exclaimed excitedly into the microphone, "It highlights the author’s thoughts, which are not confined to any form. This is a remarkable challenge to traditional art forms! It symbolizes artistic thoughts breaking away from material constraints…"

"…representing deep thoughts on war and reflections on professionalism," another invited columnist from a newspaper spoke confidently, "We can see that this work seems casually placed at the entrance of the gallery, seemingly out of place with the gallery surroundings, as if a foreign archer placed it there haphazardly. This rebellious attitude perfectly showcases the author’s desire for the beautiful ideal of peace…"

Alan almost laughed out loud, he turned to his wife, sharing a somewhat bemused look. The archer Letizia stood outside the group surrounding the short bow, finding it amusing and helpless, unsure whether to retrieve the short bow she casually placed by the door in front of everyone’s gaze.

The development of emerging art seems to require time for testing and selection.

On the fifth day of the Red Rain Festival, there was a grand parade of floats at Ribe Lake. In the morning at nine o’clock, a long line of floats gathered on the road between Ribe Lake and Red Gum County. Nearly a hundred floats from different organizations competed to impress, starting their journey towards the inner city.

The largest float, belonging to the wealthy Southeast Chamber of Commerce, was as tall as a three-story building. It was built on a powerful magical car base, with a magnificent exterior covered in gold. The logo of Southeast Chamber of Commerce was prominently displayed on top. The float was adorned with a multi-tiered miniature palace, each tier unique, resembling a grand cake. While some made fun of its appearance as flashy, everyone had to admit that it was impressive and unforgettable.

Following closely was the float from the Adventurer’s Guild, pulled by six horses and shaped like a pumpkin carriage that used to belong to a circus. True professionals sat on the horses, in the carriage, and on top of the carriage, waving to the onlookers and performing tricks at certain intersections. A sword dancer performed the skill of turning a big radish into a flower on the top of the carriage, making the audience laugh as they caught the falling radish flowers. Some debated whether the fire-spitter was an actor or a wizard, wondering if a real wizard would be willing to stand there. Before they could reach a conclusion, the float moved forward.

The smallest floats, barely taller than a person, could be more accurately described as "parade formations". People dressed in costume carried cardboard floats, tossing candy and samples from sponsors to the crowd, not hiding the fact that it was advertising. Tall individuals with giant blood stood together, dressed as ancient barbarians, pretending to swing wooden clubs menacingly. Some artists in unusual outfits followed the float procession, showcasing their performance art. If they couldn’t keep up, the patrol officers would escort them away.

The most fitting float was a moving flower, a giant hollyhock carrying a Druid, climbing the road with green stems. Its slow pace, due to its several meters tall size, still managed to keep up with the parade. This unique hollyhock was created by a Druid experimenting with new spells, unable to fight or transport, but its colorful appearance made it popular for celebrations.

The parade started at nine in the morning, with floats touring the main streets of Ribe Lake and finally arriving at the central square by nine at night to conclude the procession. Crowds of spectators lined the main streets, bustling with excitement and laughter. Many areas were packed, but thanks to the well-trained and well-prepared official departments managing the event – having practiced "how to evacuate the crowd during a demon invasion" several times – the floats caused no unexpected disruptions.

When the floats stopped, people still lingered around, unwilling to leave.

The next day was the musicians’ grand event, the first music festival without a fixed theme, only showcasing various types of music. Classical concerts were held at the grand theater, with the orchestra’s magnificent performances captivating the audience. Traditional choirs and poetry recitations took place at Saroism Hall, where the beautiful and solemn organ music blended with the clear voices of the singers. Most young people gathered at the central square, showing more enthusiasm compared to the audience at the other two venues.

"Jacqueline! Jacqueline! Jacqueline!"

They shouted Minstrel’s name loudly, with purple violet ribbons tied around their arms matching Jacqueline’s eyes. If any unsuspecting followers were present, they might have thought that a religious leader was about to make an appearance. The expensive stage lights shone brightly even in the daytime, surrounded by colorful non-toxic mist bought from the wizard. Jacqueline walked to the front with her harp, nodding expressionlessly, causing the crowd to erupt in cheers. The crowd’s enthusiasm was almost tangible, and indoors, the sound waves could have even lifted the ceiling.

This Minstrel, who had fairy blood, appeared to be only around ten years old, similar to many years ago. Her fans called her the Angel of Music. Jacqueline was still reserved in speech, but that did not affect her popularity. Initially, her singing was seen as a strategic weapon, but as the relationship between the Empire and Tasmarin improved, a merchant who regained courage in life thanks to Jacqueline’s singing volunteered to become her manager. With the help of the manager and guardian, Jacqueline’s magical singing voice quickly conquered almost half of Aryan.

"Look at the loneliness in those beautiful eyes, and the endearing cold demeanor, isn’t she an angel?" The fans said. Unable to grow up and their coldness in speech, once seen as deserving of being burned as demons, now received widespread acceptance, considered to be her unique charm—which even led to future singers imitating her and creating inexplicable specialized terms like "Triple Zero Attribute," "Legal Lolita," "Cosmic Songstress," and so on, but that’s another story.

The morning belonged to healing singers, while the afternoon in the central square was more… independent. After many years of development, the new genre of minstrels who used to be dragged out finally gained a following.

The main act with striking makeup on stage shouted loudly, with singing that was sometimes gloomy and sad, sometimes angry and high-pitched, invading and drilling into the heads of every listener like an electric drill, making hearts race, minds dizzy, and wanting to pound their chests. The Minstrel stubbornly produced the effects of death metal with a violin, creating a magical tune that surprisingly made the despairing off-key and glissando sound just right.

The musicians in the whole band were unfortunate musicians, having the profession of a minstrel and only having attacking talents. In other words, even without activating their skill effects to attack, these people’s performance was destined to make people dizzy and unable to be appreciated by ordinary people. The emergence of new music saved their music careers, turning the magical unease in their performance into a catalyst for the atmosphere, just like the spicier the chili in a hotpot, the more addictive it became. Heavy metal enthusiasts were stimulated to the point of feeling a sweet sensation in their throats, feeling the performance was in place, and their blood was boiling.

By the way, all the special effects of the afternoon stage were provided by the Witch, Plague Witch Leslie, a loyal supporter of heavy metal music, who felt deeply connected to the band’s makeup style.

On the last night of the Red Rain Festival, it was time for a fireworks display and a masquerade ball.

Colorful fireworks blossomed against the dark sky, with Aryan’s technology tree displaying magic signal flares before the colorful fireworks. Golden and silver lines slashed through the night sky, various patterns opening up in the air amidst the whistling, dazzling the onlookers. Craftsman Dwarf’s workshop configured vibrant fireworks, and the wizard’s magical fireworks even changed in the air, with people amazed by the fairy fireworks dancing in the sky and laughing at the clown fireworks tossing the balls.

The last round of fireworks lit up the sky above the whole Ribe Lake city like a fountain of silver sparkles, dazzling and covering the night sky. As the fireworks faded, the night’s festivities were just beginning. The music started playing, and people dressed in their best gathered at the outdoor dance floor.

This was Tasha’s idea, to have a masquerade ball where everyone dressed up as strange creatures and danced together. It would be fun to mingle with others disguised in all sorts of costumes, especially when some of the oddities were actually part of the crowd.

A person on stilts dressed as a giant encountered a descendant of real giants, who wore antlers on their head and tried to pass as an Orc. Many furry ears were sticking out from heads, making it tricky to distinguish between real and fake. Some lazy participants opted for a simple ear headband to complete their Orc look, while others with long Orc ears used hats and wigs to appear as something else.

"Today, I am a witch!" exclaimed a little boy wearing a pointed hat, kindly reminding a nearby girl, "This is a costume party, if you don’t dress up, they won’t let you in!"

"I did dress up!" replied the little girl, lifting her wig to reveal a rabbit ear squished underneath, "Today, I am a human!"

Dragon Knight Douglas arrived riding a dragon, drawing cheers and jeers from the crowd. Familiar faces teased him for not dressing up properly and just showing off his dragon. "How can you say that?" protested Douglas, pointing to the barely visible antlers on the dragon’s head, "We are portraying the God of Wealth and his sacred reindeer. Look, he even shrank in size, and don’t I have a bag with me?"

The mythical God of Wealth was known for distributing gifts on special occasions, yet Douglas’s pouch was empty, clearly put together on a whim. The audience laughed and mocked his outfit for not being authentic. So, the Dragon Knight quickly adapted, claiming they were the "fallen God of Wealth disguised as a regular Dragon Knight and his evil reindeer dragon."

If the God of Wealth gives gifts, then the fallen God of Wealth would receive them. Next, the dragon and Dragon Knight playfully pretended to "rob" people by asking for gifts and coins along the way. The dragon especially liked the smallest coins made of Dwarf Money, shiny and clinking when touched.

"This guy loves showing off too much!" complained members of the Griffon Legion.

The dragon flew back and forth over Ribe Lake, even though it showed no sign of fighting, the griffins still kept their distance, no matter how much their master tried to persuade them. Most Griffin Riders secretly prepared to dress up as the ancient leader of the Griffon Legion from hero stories. How rare it was! Unlike people around the world, they had real griffins as props! The riders sighed sadly, if not for the dragon, most of the Griffon Legion members probably would have dressed very similarly.

These people really had the nerve to say the Dragon Knight loves to show off.

The "ancient heroes riding griffins" didn’t have a chance to appear, but the "elves riding unicorns" were quite popular. Girls wore white long dresses, dyed their long hair golden and braided it, crafted pointed ears out of dough, and rode in on white horses – ever since the story of unicorns spread in Aryan, girls who liked white horses outnumbered those who liked warrior horses. The white (or pinked powdered white) horses had various pointed horns on their heads, and the "elves" on their backs quickly sized each other up when they met, looking at the horn first before the rider. Those girls who believed their horns were better, smiled with a hint of pride.

If the unicorn-making contest officially began, a young boy would be the winner, because he rode a real unicorn. Young Gabriel was easily embarrassed, but his unicorn partner was quite bold, not even the dragon or the crowd could deter it from playing. Gabriel nervously rode the unicorn, laughing awkwardly at others’ praise, afraid someone would discover there really was a unicorn here.

"Let’s go back early…" he murmured sadly, "there are so many people, if you are discovered, everyone will touch you, and you will be petted until bald…"

His companion ignored this, turning his long neck curiously to watch the passing crowd.

The ball did not provide main courses, but offered snacks and low-alcohol drinks for entertainment. An automatic bottle opener, a newly invented homemade magic device, grandly shot the caps of several champagne bottles into the air, spraying foam like cannon fire, making Marion next to jump. The she-wolf had been daydreaming beside the table, completely unaware that the self-service magic device on the table could be remotely controlled. Her ears twitched uncontrollably, splattered with foam.

"I really hate magic technology," she muttered, shaking her head in annoyance.

"Here," Hettie, handing the champagne, smiled and passed a handkerchief to Marion, "I quite like it."

Amazon warrior Hettie lost a leg in a previous war, but thanks to magical technology, she now has a new iron leg that allows her to move and fight like before.

Tasha was dancing at the party about thirty meters away from them.

Tasha wasn’t wearing a disguise, she stood there as herself with horns on her head and dragon claws on her feet. People recognized her as Madam Governor and respectfully kept their distance.

"Beautiful lady, are you here alone?" a surprised voice behind her said, "How can such a lovely person just stand by the dance floor? Have all the people who came before me gone blind?"

Tasha smiled and reached back.

Her hand was grasped, and she was spun around. In that moment, Tasha saw Victor’s face with demon horns proudly displayed. He leaned in, touching foreheads with Tasha.

The street vendors were making a lot of money. Devil horn hair clips were selling for the same price as beast ear headbands, with a buy one get one free offer. On this magical night, no one needed to hide.

"Respected Madam Governor, may I have this dance with you?" Victor asked with a smile.

"Haven’t you already done so?" Tasha replied.

Victor put his arm around Tasha’s waist, while Tasha’s hand rested on his back. They entered the dance floor as the music reached a new high, their eyes locked, as if the first to look away would lose.

The dragon’s claws made a clattering sound on the tiles, its sharp claws gently touching the ground like high heels. Victor danced between these sharp claws in his boots, and Tasha, looking down, thought of birds dancing between crocodile teeth. She looked up again, meeting the amber eyes and quickly dispelling her earlier thought.

That wasn’t a bird, but clearly another crocodile.

A devil with the eyes of a reptile led him, graceful in appearance but not gentle in action, fitting Tasha’s taste – straightforward and no need to pretend after a dance.

They danced gracefully, their steps not as tender as others might think, but rather exuding a sharpness of battle, intimate yet unbelievable. The handsome man with white hair and the beautiful woman with black hair, the Lord Governor and his lover, all eyes on them, but few could stare at them for long. It was too… intimate, without any explicit moves, yet their locked steps seemed to raise the temperature around them.