As twilight draped Nyvaris in a warm golden hue, a soothing voice echoed across the city. It came from the sky—a projection of Varvatos, standing tall and poised, his presence radiating both power and hospitality. Citizens, nobles, merchants, warriors, and kings alike paused what they were doing to look up at the sky.
"Welcome," Varvatos spoke, his deep yet serene voice carrying to every corner of Nyvaris. "I thank each and every one of you who made the journey from your lands to ours. Your presence honors us."
A gentle wind blew through the streets as everyone stood silently, gazing at the sky where his projection hovered.
"Let us mark this moment… the beginning of something grand. Please—look up."
And then, without delay, the sky ignited.
Boom!
Crackling bursts of magic danced in the heavens—vivid explosions of color in magnificent shapes: phoenixes soaring, dragons spiraling, blooming flowers of starlight, and shining symbols of each nation, including crests of kingdoms both small and vast. The sky over Nyvaris turned into a breathtaking canvas, with each magical firework responding to cheers, clapping, and laughter.
The crowd roared.
People raised their drinks, hugging each other, some tearing up at the sheer spectacle. Stalls opened instantly—smelling of grilled meats, sweet pastries, spiced wines, and exotic teas. Dancing broke out in the main plazas. Music filled the air—lutes, flutes, drums, and enchanted instruments all playing in harmony as if rehearsed a thousand times.
In the Royal District…
Kings and queens stood on the grand balconies of their lodgings, in awe. Queen Leona of Ulgracia whispered, "This city… it's as if the gods crafted it themselves."
King Baudric of Ingrasia raised his goblet. "To Nyvaris! To Varvatos!"
They toasted with magical golden wine delivered by maids in shimmering uniforms. Ballachia's war-hardened nobles murmured among themselves, impressed by the elegance.
"This is no mere festival. This is a display of power and serenity."
In one of the lounges, King Gazel Dwargo, sipping a rich dwarven ale, turned to Varvatos, who had joined a private gathering briefly. "You've outdone yourself, old friend. Truly. But with the world gathered here… this is the moment. Trade, alliances, mutual growth. Let me introduce you to some people."
Varvatos leaned back with a subtle smile. "I appreciate it, Gazel. But you know me. I'm not one for politics."
Even Queen Elmesia, his lover, gave him a knowing look. "They're right to ask. What you've built—what you've become—it's too important not to share."
Varvatos let out a quiet sigh. "Perhaps. But not now. Not during this. This festival is for celebration, not negotiation. Let them dance. Let them eat and drink and marvel. I'll consider matters of diplomacy after the festivities."
Despite some disappointed murmurs, most leaders respected his decision.
In the Merchant Quarters…
Traders from Falmouth, Blumund, Siltrosso, and Coleus were stunned at the opportunity. Food vendors sold out within hours. Magic item merchants found themselves trading goods with Dwarven craftsmen from Dwargon. Enchanters from Raja and Ulgracia haggled cheerfully with crafters from the Harpy Kingdom.
"It's better than a royal summit!" exclaimed a wealthy merchant from Ingrasia. "I've already sealed three deals and we haven't even reached the second day!"
Commonfolk danced in the streets, many for the first time outside their homeland. Farmers from Filtwood and Ballachia sat side-by-side with knights from Angelus, drinking frothy fruit wine and enjoying fresh-roasted meats from the street vendors.
"Did you see those fireworks?" a child from Siltrosso shouted. "I saw a griffon made of starlight!"
A grizzled knight chuckled. "I nearly dropped my ale when the hydra firework hissed at me!"
Adventurers gathered near the central plaza, discussing the Labyrinth and showing off their magical resurrection bracelets.
"I heard no one dies in there. You just pop right back to the surface if you fall!"
"And the deeper you go, the rarer the loot!"
"Count me in tomorrow!"
"Tomorrow? I'm going in tonight!"
Meanwhile, across the city, luxurious carriages continued to arrive. Fireworks continued, changing rhythm and style—an aerial opera of color and music lighting the heavens above. Magic danced along the streets, weaving into the music as enchanted streetlamps shimmered with golden hues.
The first night of the festival had begun. And Nyvaris was alive—more alive than ever before.
Day 2 of the Grand Festival in Nyvaris
Morning bathed the city in warm hues, but Nyvaris had never slept.
As the sun crested over the floating spires and towering crystalline bridges of Nyvaris, the scent of spices, fresh bread, and magical incense filled the air. The city came alive once more—not with fireworks, but with bustling energy and purpose. Bells chimed in the central plaza, announcing the opening of the Great Market of Nyvaris, a colossal circular forum carved in enchanted stone and lit with hovering, colorful lanterns.
Merchants from every corner of the world rushed in with wide eyes and faster footsteps. Stalls shimmered with magical goods not seen outside Nyvaris: fabric that changed colors based on mood, healing sweets, singing jewelry, and floating cutlery that fed the user on command.
A merchant from Coleus whispered to another from Siltrosso, "These enchantments... you'd need five court mages back home just to replicate one."
"I'm buying the whole cart," a noblewoman from Raja said, tossing a sack of gold to a startled vendor.
Blumund's traders negotiated frantically, already dreaming of selling Nyvaris spices back home for triple their worth.
Near the heart of the city, families flooded into the Glade of Gleam, a massive park where illusionary butterflies fluttered and fountains told stories through water shapes. This was Rimuru's idea—a paradise for families and children.
Parks had enchanted see-saws, dragon-shaped golem rides, and cotton candy that changed flavor every time it was bitten. A giant soft creature—a plushy golem designed after Rimuru himself—danced and hugged children as they laughed and screamed with joy.
Veldora, puffed with pride, was at the park entrance. He wore a long, regal cape and sunglasses.
"Come forth, children!" he declared dramatically. "For I, the great Veldora Tempest, am here to show you the path of coolness!"
Children giggled. One brave little girl poked his tail.
"Can you breathe fire?"
"I can do more than that," Veldora grinned, and performed a low-level light show spell, swirling sparkles of blue and gold around him.
"Wow!"
"He's so silly!" another kid shouted, and everyone laughed.
Gobta, balancing food in both hands, shouted, "Veldora-sama! Save some tricks for the arena later!"
"Bah! I have infinite tricks, Gobta!" Veldora boomed.
Nearby, Benimaru, Shion, Shuna, Hakuro, Souei, and Rigur were casually strolling through the gardens, each enjoying some bizarre food unique to Nyvaris—floating dumplings, sizzling fruit on a skewer, or cooling jelly drinks.
"Shion, you shouldn't eat that so fast," Shuna warned.
"But it tastes like... like... power and flowers!" Shion said with a glowing face.
Hakuro nodded thoughtfully. "The flavors are perfectly balanced… this is craftsmanship on a divine level."
Rigur turned to Souei. "Is security even needed here? There's magic watching every corner."
Souei smiled. "Varvatos-sama said it himself: 'I have eyes in all things. Go enjoy yourselves.' I trust him."
Meanwhile… in the Royal Baths:
Luxurious bathhouses carved into crystal caverns glowed with steam and soft light. Heated by magic, the waters could adjust temperature to one's preference. The baths were divided by class and comfort, but even the "common" ones surpassed the finest spas in the Western Nations.
Inside the Royal Bath Hall, nobles and rulers soaked in relaxation.
King Gazel leaned back in the water, sipping chilled wine served by a silver golem.
"This," he muttered, "is better than a dwarven forge after a long siege."
A noble from Falmouth chuckled, "So the rumors were true. You have a pact with Varvatos."
Gazel raised a brow. "Aye. Nyvaris and Dwargon have an understanding. One forged from trust, not profit."
Leaders from Ingrasia and Angelus leaned in.
"Can you introduce us? We wish to talk trade, diplomacy. With Nyvaris behind us—"
Gazel cut in. "He told you all already. He's not discussing politics. Not now. Not during this. You'd be wise to wait. Push him, and he may close the door entirely."
On the Streets of Nyvaris:
And then came the stir—whispers among the nobles and leaders.
"Is that...?"
"It can't be."
"She walks with him so casually..."
Elmesia, radiant in a flowing violet dress laced with starlight, walked hand in hand with Varvatos, who wore a simple dark robe. They strolled without guards, without escorts. Only Velzard, trailing a few steps behind while eating ice cream, seemed to be with them.
They passed food stalls and laughing children. Elmesia stopped to buy a sweetbread from a vendor and smiled when the baker asked her if she was "someone famous."
The merchant from Siltrosso leaned close to a noble from Filtwood.
"The rumors were true then. Elmesia and Varvatos... lovers."
Another nodded. "This changes everything. That's not just love... it's alliance. And if the Queen of Sorcery is at his side..."
They quickly hushed as the trio passed.
Elmesia turned to Varvatos. "They're whispering."
"They always whisper," he said with a half-smile.
"Let them. Today isn't about them. It's about everyone."
Velzard licked her ice cream and muttered, "I told you to wear something less mysterious. This whole walking-around-in-a-robe thing only adds to your legend."
Varvatos chuckled. "Legends are louder when you walk quietly."
Later That Evening:
The second sunset glimmered on Nyvaris' crystalline rooftops. Torch-lamps lit with blue fire. Floating orbs guided visitors to night festivities. The city buzzed louder than the first day—food stalls serving until midnight, street bards performing under enchanted stages, and enchanted paper lanterns released into the sky with people's wishes tied to them.
Rimuru sat at a rooftop café with Gobta, Benimaru, Shuna, and the others. Diablo joined silently, watching the sky.
"You're all too tense," Varvatos said, approaching them casually. "Relax. I told you—security is my business. You, my friends, are guests."
Benimaru gave a small bow. "It's hard not to think like commanders…"
Shion grinned. "But we'll try. I mean… floating beef buns? Who says no to that?"
"Exactly!" Gobta cheered, already stuffing his face.
Varvatos turned to Diablo. "That includes you. No shadows tonight. Just light."
Diablo gave a rare smile. "Understood… for tonight, I am but a man at a festival."
They raised their glasses to toast.
And so, Day 2 of the Festival of Nyvaris faded into a memory of light, laughter, mystery, and rising intrigue.