Starting With an SSS-Rank Goddess Summon!

The table went agonizingly silent.

Silas sat completely frozen with his brain working overtime to process the fact that the terrifying, flame-wielding heiress of House Bloom had just submitted a presentation on her own virginity.

Beside him, Harper’s shoulders began to shake.

A quiet muffled snort escaped Harper’s lips. She clapped both of her hands over her mouth, but it was entirely futile.

”PFFFFFT... HAHAHAHAHAHA!”

Harper threw her head back against the velvet cushions, exploding into a loud tear-inducing roar of pure laughter that echoed across the entire top floor of the restaurant.

”OH, SO YOU’RE NOT EXPERIENCED?” Harper cackled, clutching her stomach as her violet hair bounced wildly. ”Holy shit! We can literally see it... but still... Who talks like that on a date?! Are you submitting an environmental impact report or trying to get a boyfriend?!”

”SILENCE, YOU SHAMELESS VULGAR HARPY!” Seraphina shrieked, slamming her palms onto the table as her crimson aura flared violently, threatening to set the floral centerpiece ablaze. ”I AM PROVIDING FULL TRANSPARENCY! IT IS THE HEIGHT OF NOBLE EFFICIENCY! I WILL INCINERATE YOUR ENTIRE SKULL!”

”Try it, Princess! Let’s see if you can stop a lightning bolt!” Harper wheezed, wiping a genuine tear of laughter from her eye.

”Both of you, shut up,” Silas commanded, his deep voice cutting through the brewing magical explosion with effortless authority.

Both women snapped their heads toward him, freezing instantly.

Silas rubbed the bridge of his nose, letting out a slow, tired exhale.

”Seraphina. Take a breath. Harper is obnoxious, but she’s right about one thing: a date isn’t an interrogation or an audit... You don’t hand people a list of demands and biometric stats. You just... talk like normal people.”

Seraphina’s crimson eyes blinked rapidly, the fiery aura receding as her blush deepened in genuine mortification.

”Normal... people?”

”Yeah,” Harper chimed in, leaning forward and resting her chin in her hands, her mocking tone softening into something surprisingly grounded.

”You ask questions. You talk about stuff that happened during your week. You ask Silas why he always looks like he wants to sleep for three months straight, or what kind of music he likes, or how he deals with his little sister when she acts like a brat.”

Seraphina looked between Harper and Silas, her haughty expression giving way to a rare vulnerable curiosity.

She slowly unclasped her hands from the napkin, resting them neatly on the table.

”I... see,” Seraphina murmured softly. She looked directly at Silas, her eyes softening. ”Then... Silas. What was your life like before you entered the Sovereign Realm? In the lower ward?”

’Does she really have to ask about this?’

Silas paused, his golden-ringed blue eyes reflecting the flickering candlelight between them.

For the next twenty minutes, the tense volatile atmosphere of noble rivalry melted into something remarkably natural.

Silas spoke in a quiet steady tone about the reality of growing up in Sector 4... the daily grind of the scrap yards, the harsh winters where the heating wards failed, and the exhausting stubbornness required to keep Lia fed, clothed, and a lot more like life in the Academy too.

Harper listened with genuine quiet empathy, sharing stories of her own grueling, high-voltage training regimens under her father’s strict military instructors, where a single misstep meant taking thousands of volts through her central nervous system.

Even Seraphina dropped her arrogant noble facade, speaking candidly about the suffocating pressure of being House Bloom’s favorite heir... the constant political surveillance, the endless stream of arrogant suitors trying to use her bloodline for corporate leverage, and the terrifying psychotic expectations set by her mother, Lady Etilga.

For the first time since the afternoon had begun, they weren’t screaming, competing, or threatening to level a city block.

They were just three young powerful individuals who carried the crushing weight of their world on their shoulders, finding a rare moment of peace above the glowing clouds of Valoria City.

CLINK!

The soft elegant chime of a silver dome cover lifting broke the quiet reverie.

The tempo of the elven jazz quartet in the corner subtly shifted, building into a grand, celebratory crescendo as the service doors swung wide.

A procession of eight waitstaff in pristine white tailcoats marched into the private pavilion, led by the head maître d’ and a portly, red-faced man in a towering white chef’s toque... Master Bartholomew, the executive culinary master of The Celestial Zenith himself.

”Presenting the evening’s bespoke culinary showcase,” the maître d’ announced with sweeping theatrical flair.

Silver platters were lowered onto the table with synchronized, micrometer precision.

First came Harper’s dish... It was a massive perfectly charred solar-wyvern tenderloin, sliced into thick succulent medallions that hissed with residual heat, resting atop a bed of golden, cream-whipped mana-potatoes and drizzled with a rich, ruby-colored demi-glace.

Next came Silas’s side selections... the smoked astral truffle medley, which released an intoxicating earthy aroma of oak and ancient moss, accompanied by crystal goblets filled with effervescent, glowing azure spring nectar.

Finally, Master Bartholomew stepped forward personally.

With trembling, reverent hands, the head chef lifted a massive, solid-silver cloche from the central platter directly in front of Seraphina and Silas.

FWOOSH!

A heavenly plume of fragrant steam exploded into the air, instantly overwhelming the delicate floral scents of the restaurant.

Resting on a colossal platter of hand-carved black obsidian was a massive, two-pound cut of high grade Shadow-Basilisk loin.

The exterior was crusted in a coarse aromatic blend of crushed peppercorns and dried volcanic sea salt, seared to a flawless glistening medium-rare with a deep pink center that practically wept with rich flavorful juices.

Melting over the top of the hot steak was a generous golden pool of solar-garlic herb butter, bubbling softly and cascading down the sides of the meat.

Surrounding the steak was a generous mountain of thick hand-pulled vermicelli noodles, tossed in a glistening, deep-crimson fire-chili oil, garnished with crispy fried scallions, toasted sesame seeds, and crushed spirit-peanuts.

The presentation was rustic and utterly magnificent... a high-society tribute to the bounty of a dungeon hunt.

”Shadow-Basilisk Loin, hand-seared over imported volcanic embers,” Master Bartholomew announced, bowing so low his chef’s toque nearly brushed the table. ”Paired with hand-pulled spicy rift-vermicelli and churned solar-garlic butter. Prepared exclusively for the sovereign pleasure of House Bloom and Lord Graves...”

Seraphina’s crimson eyes glittered with pure, triumphant joy. ”Magnificent work, Chef.”

”A thousand honors, Lady Bloom!” Bartholomew breathed, practically crying with relief as he and the waitstaff bowed in unison and retreated toward the service station.

Harper didn’t wait a single second.

She snatched her gold-plated fork and knife, expertly carving off a thick, juicy piece of the solar-wyvern tenderloin. She popped the meat into her mouth, chewing enthusiastically.

Her violet eyes rolled back in pure bliss.

”Mmmmph!” Harper groaned, slamming her fist lightly against the table. ”Holy hell, that’s good! The char on the crust is completely insane! Silas, you have to try this wyvern meat, it literally melts on your tongue!”

Across the table, Seraphina picked up her own silver fork.

She delicately sliced a small, tender piece of the Basilisk steak, ensuring it was generously coated in the melted garlic butter and a few strands of the spicy roasted noodles, and lifted it to her lips.

She took a bite.

The intense richness of the dense monster protein exploded across her palate, perfectly balanced by the aromatic punch of the roasted garlic and the fiery, addictive heat of the chili-spiced noodles.

It was bold, hearty, and packed with an undeniable flavor that completely eclipsed the delicate, flavorless foams typical of noble cuisine.

”It is... extraordinary,” Seraphina voiced her approval, her eyes lighting up with genuine delight. ”The texture is remarkably firm, yet effortlessly succulent. The spice carries an exceptional kinetic resonance.”

Hearing the noblewoman’s praise, the head maître d’ and Master Bartholomew, who were watching anxiously from the kitchen corridor, practically collapsed into each other’s arms in tearful celebration.

Silas reached for his own fork, carving off a generous slice of the steak and taking a massive bite of the spicy noodles alongside it.

The meat was tender, rich, and bursting with flavor.

The noodles had the perfect chewy snap, coated in a deep, layered chili oil that left a pleasant, tingling burn across his tongue.

It was, without question, the most flawless piece of cooked meat Silas had ever tasted on Earth.

Yet, as Silas chewed, an amused thought crossed his mind.

’It’s good. Really damn good,’ Silas thought, a fond smirk touching the corner of his lips. ’The ingredients cost more than an apartment building... but honestly? I still prefer Martha’s cooking.’

Before Silas could take a second bite, the rustle of silk drew his attention across the table.

Seraphina had stood up slightly from her seat.

She leaned gracefully across the white linen tablecloth, her plunging crimson neckline dipping daringly low as she held out a silver fork.

Speared on the tines was a perfectly cut, glistening piece of medium-rare basilisk steak, dripping with golden garlic butter and twirled with spicy noodles.

A deep radiant blush covered her cheeks, but she held her chin high, looking directly into his golden-ringed blue eyes.

”Silas,” Seraphina commanded softly, her melodic voice trembling with a mixture of immense pride and nervous vulnerability. ”Open your mouth... As your prospective wife, it is my ancestral duty to ensure you are properly nourished with your favorite dish.”

Silas blinked, staring at the hovering fork. ”Seraphina, I have two functional hands and my own fork.”

”Silas Graves,” Seraphina hissed, her red eyes narrowing in desperate blushing insistence. ”Do not disgrace my offering in front of the waitstaff... Eat it.”

Silas let out a defeated breath, leaning forward and accepting the bite from her fork.

The rich savory meat and spicy noodles filled his mouth, the intense flavors bursting across his palate.

He chewed and swallowed, giving her a slow, approving nod. ”It’s great. Thank you.”

Seraphina let out a breathless triumphant gasp, her entire face glowing with ecstasy as she settled back into her seat like an empress who had just conquered a new continent.

”Oh, hell no!” Harper’s voice cut in instantly.

Before Silas could even turn his head, Harper leaned her entire body against his side, spearing a massive steaming chunk of solar-wyvern tenderloin and shoving the fork directly against his lips.

”My turn!” Harper declared boldly, her violet eyes flashing with fierce competitive fire. ”Wyvern meat has three times the kinetic mana density of basilisk! Open up, handsome, you need protein for endurance!”

Silas stared at the giant piece of wyvern meat hovering an inch from his nose.

Knowing that refusing would only trigger another round of screaming, he opened his mouth and took the tenderloin straight off her fork.

The wyvern was incredible... smoky, intensely savory, with a delicate citrus undertone that cut through the richness.

”Amazing,” Silas muttered, chewing steadily.

”Hah! See?!” Harper gloated, shooting Seraphina an insufferably smug wink. ”He liked mine better!”

”He did not, you unrefined woman!” Seraphina snapped. ”Basilisk is his designated preference!”

Silas rolled his eyes, picking up his own fork.

He carved two generous portions from the central platter, spearing a piece of truffle-crusted meat on one fork and a forkful of spicy basilisk on the other.

”Here,” Silas said flatly, holding one fork out toward Harper and the other across the table toward Seraphina. ”Eat, and stop arguing before the food gets cold.”

Both girls froze.

Harper’s jaw dropped slightly, a sudden bright pink blush rushing across her cheeks as she leaned in and gently bit the truffle meat from his fork, humming softly with immense satisfaction.

Across the table, Seraphina’s eyes widened into saucers. She looked at the offering as if Silas had just handed her a divine imperial scepter.

Her heart fluttered violently against her ribs as she leaned forward, delicately parting her glossed lips to accept the spicy basilisk bite from his hand.

”It... it is exceptionally flavorful,” Seraphina whispered, clutching her chest as she swallowed, her crimson eyes locked on his face with starry-eyed adoration.

...

Standing quietly at the pavilion threshold, Reginald adjusted his gold-rimmed spectacles.

The veteran butler pulled his leather-bound surveillance journal from his coat pocket, clicked his pen, and meticulously wrote down his latest observation in elegant script.

’Haah... what a vibe it is to be young.’

Forty-five minutes later, the colossal feast was reduced to empty, polished silver platters.