A Feast

It is time for me to get back to the story while Remilia's busy manipulating Johan's fate. In this chapter, we will see the Smashers take a break inside the palace and have a nice feast. So, in other words, a lighter chapter overall. Expect to witness something else at the end, however. On with the show!

They say that he died in an accident, but I cannot be so certain. Why do I feel like the stars are lying to me when they shouldn't be doing such a deceitful action? I feel like the government is not showing me everything I need to know, especially regarding my younger brother's death. I hope to avoid thinking that the kingdom is conspiring against the family, but I may find that task difficult to fulfill in the long run.

As a last note, it is now my duty to protect her from future harm.

-Unsigned letter to Svante [surname redacted]

Inside the palace…

Swish…

"Ow," Fox moaned. The needle that entered his neck provided a short dose of pain before introducing Vit Hjärta into his system to eliminate the presence of Igel in his blood. A woman in green medical robes was the one caring for his injured form and had already managed all wounds with the marriage of science and magic. The commando's old uniform had been replaced with a set of standard medical garments, with the former having been taken away for some repairs. His room was a simple cube of limestone and steel, complete with the usual equipment associated with a patient's room. A nearby window provided a view of Björnstad, which was still wounded from the longtime siege and now subjected to the light of a red moon in the sky, whose body was emerging amid departing clouds. Its light cast a scarlet aura upon the numerous streets and buildings of Rosträdgård's largest city; the fact that the medical wing was remarkably high in the atmosphere relative to most other buildings only amplified the fullness of the view. Terramythica's other moons were still obscured by thick clouds.

Well, getting struck with a needle isn't too bad, at least compared to the crap I've endured so far. Fox felt his body relax as the needle exited his skin and his mind ascended into a state of temporary tranquility. This was a much-desired moment for him, especially since he would not be returning to the Smash Mansion for a few days at minimum, perhaps not at all if his death were set to become reality. As the nurse finished tending to him and left afterwards, the vulpine Smasher noticed Stefan entering the room with his mother behind him.

"Excuse me, sir," the prince greeted, "But my mother and I need to perform a short spell with you to decipher your identity like we are doing with other members of your group."

"Oh, right. You don't know who I am yet. Plus, if I were to end up in deep trouble, it would be nice to have a telepathic link with you two." The queen and her son held each one of Fox's hands before creating a golden glow with their magic. A sea of numbness soaked the Smasher's body with a wave of unfeeling emptiness, almost an exact replica of what he had experienced during his initial encounter with the Rosträdgårdian princess at the Smash Mansion. He was hardly bothered by this development; in fact, it was a pleasant respite from the pain invading his wounds like a spreading fire. It was no surprise, then, that he felt some disappointment in his mind when his body returned to normal and no longer carried the golden light from either monarch at his sides.

"I see," Stefan sighed. "You are Fox McCloud, leader of a mercenary group in a distant galaxy. You twice defeated a mad scientist who sought to invade your home planet, to say nothing of other threats entering your galaxy."

"The one and only." Fox cracked a light smile as the prince reminded him of his major accomplishments. "Now that you know me better, would you like me to do anything else for you?"

"We would like to invite you to a small dinner tonight," Ingrid responded. "You and your allies are welcome to attend if any of you are interested in enjoying the finest delicacies in Rosträdgård. Of course, it is not a required event."

"I'm more than happy to go, Your Majesty. Besides, I haven't eaten anything for several hours now, so it would be nice to have some food in my stomach. When does the dinner start?" Fox shifted his head around for comfort, ignoring the dull pain from the syringe's earlier entry.

"The dinner will start in two hours, Mister McCloud. That should be enough time for you to rest and wait for your old clothing to be returned."

"Thank you very much." As the mercenary watched both monarchs exit the room, he began to daydream about his family and close friends in Team Star Fox. Now that he was far away from the Smash Mansion, memories concerning past experiences with them flooded his mind. Given the severe danger of the adventure, it was possible that he would never see any of them, excluding Falco, again were he to die the next day in combat. Prior to leaving the mansion, he privately promised to return to his family and friends once the Svärtad Orm's resurrection was permanently halted. And from this point onward, he was going to do everything he could to ensure that his promise was not shattered.

He would return a triumphant hero, no matter the cost.

"I won't let you down…"

Two hours later, inside the dining room…

"Can't-a wait to start-a eating," a tired Luigi, who had placed his Poltergust elsewhere in the palace, sighed under his breath. He was quietly waiting for the other Smashers to join him in the nighttime feast that would sooth them in body and mind. His location held the same style of architecture as the rest of the palace, but the details were quite different compared to the main hall. A stained-glass painting of a woman, a replica of the image encountered by Falco on Venom's forgotten temple, was present on a portion of the domed ceiling above him; nearly all crucial details were preserved by the unseen and long-deceased artists, with differences being limited to natural brightness of colors and the more accentuated expression on the woman's face. A nearby chandelier provided some warm light to illuminate the glassy canvas. Windows providing a view of the city from several angles were present, coupled with lights projecting a violet-pink aura upon the perimeter of the floor. The table to which the plumber remained close was circular, dotted by white napkins and silverware along its circumference, and decorated with a red cloth depicting the kingdom's coat of arms. A wave of marble stretched across the floor, offering a reflection of the ceiling.

"Hope the food is as-a good as-a Stefan claimed." Before he could ponder on anything that was drifting in his river of consciousness, the door farthest away from him—to his left—clicked open.

Click…

"Hey, bro. Glad you came here; I thought-a nobody else was-a going to show up." Luigi caught the sight of his older brother entering the room with the intent to eat delicacies from another world.

"You know me, Luigi," Mario replied while cracking a slight smirk, "I like-a eating food, especially stuff I've-a never tried before. I haven't-a seen Rosträdgård's cuisine, so this-a should be a treat for me." Seconds transformed into minutes while the brothers remained in their chairs, and therein began the flow of Smashers from other areas in the palace. King Dedede was among the first ones to arrive, accompanied by Pichu, Roy, and Falco; the greedy king's appearance prompted a certain memory to leap into the older plumber's mind, resulting in the performance of an action that should have been executed a few days ago. If there was some punishment to be dealt, Mario believed, then this night was an opportune time. He swiftly stood up and approached Dedede, then…

BLAM!

"OW!" the king yelped. His nose was struck with a straight punch, and while the force behind Mario's attack was not enough to topple him, it visibly staggered him and only added to the pain of multiple acidic burns in his mouth despite previous medical treatment. Falco, Pichu, and Roy nearly shuffled backwards, surprised that Mario had supposedly attacked Dedede for no apparent reason, and the dumbfounded Luigi merely remained in his seat.

"What the hell was that for?!" The penguin-like king raised his voice to better express his agitated state despite the burns in his mouth cursing him with piercing pain.

"Well, one of your-a stunts at-a Port Town nearly got Peach killed, which is-a why she had to become a cyborg. I just-a wanted to give you my little warning to not-a do that crap again. You're lucky I'm-a generous with you this-a time, but I won't-a be so merciful in the future." Mario had an ironic yet bitter smile on his face while giving his explanation, and his voice had a bit of a playful tone, only darkening to a far more ominous state at the cold end. As he returned to the table and sat next to Luigi, the two Smashers standing next to the king remained still until one of them spoke his mind.

"Of all the random moments so far," Falco muttered, "I was least expecting Dedede to get socked in the face prior to a hearty dinner. But, then again, if what Mario says is true, then maybe it's not so random at all."

"That is true," Roy added. As he and his cohorts joined the brothers at the table, they noticed nearly all Smashers arriving over the next few minutes to join them, excluding the still-missing Links, Zelda, and Ganondorf; since he could not eat, R.O.B. stayed to the edge of the room. All Smashers who had experienced clothing damage were compensated with repairs to their outfits, and all those with wounds were previously treated by the palace's medical staff. Peach was wearing a plain green dress with white flats and dark leggings, and such an outfit was immediately observed by Mario as she approached him; her cybernetics were shielded by an incorporated holographic field over her metallic exterior.

"Where did you get that-a dress from?" was the plumber's question.

"When the queen came to me in one of the common rooms with Stefan," she answered, "I requested a uniform for this event to add a fashionable flare to my appearance. As much as I enjoy my new cyborg look, I want to have something that may better compliment this environment."

"And it-a fits you well." As the Smashers filled in the seats, they were greeted with the appearance of the remaining members of the royal family, Svante, Gustaf Larsson, and several members of the Rosträdgårdian Black Guard. All of them occupied the seats that were still empty, thus completing the circle of living beings around the table.

"Dear travelers," the queen announced, "I thank you all for attending this feast tonight. This is a much-appreciated action on your part, for since the beginning of the war, very few visitors from other parts of Terramythica would dare to approach this city for fear of their lives. From what my son told me about your group, you risked your lives to protect innocent souls of other realms from the dastardly plots of the Orm's Lords, and even that barely scratches the surface regarding what many of you have done to fight back other villains of years past. For your efforts, and to ensure that you earn a vital moment of rest, you deserve a welcoming banquet as an example of Rosträdgårdian hospitality."

"We hope the banquet provides energy for tomorrow's struggles to you," Stefan continued. When his voice refused to echo anymore, the doors which led to the kitchen were silently pushed open by cooks in red robes. Mario kept his head down while dishes of Rosträdgårdian cuisine approached the table, but his cohorts immediately stared at those delivering the food, some more excitedly than others.

"For tonight's dinner," Ingrid noted, "You will taste one of the finest dishes to be served to royal families since the beginning of the kingdom."

"What's it gonna be, Your Majesty?" Falco asked, hoping to find out.

"You will be tasting surstömming, fermented herring which is highly valued even among Rosträdgårdians and served alongside boiled potatoes and salad. For beverages, you have the option of water, milk, trocadero, or—if you are old enough—akvavit. Akvavit is a distilled form of liquor fermented from potatoes and seasoned with herbs, while trocadero is a sweet drink created from apples and oranges." As the cooks served food to everyone at the table, they asked each person what his, her, or its preferred drink was. Mario, Falco, Roy, Captain Falcon, and Gustaf chose the akvavit. Stefan, Ingrid, and all the Pokémon—including Red's three partners—chose the trocadero, and the rest of the group was evenly split between water and milk. When the food and beverages were delivered, Ingrid initiated a prayer to the namesake of the Staff of Björn. She and other Rosträdgårdians lowered their heads in the process, with the Smashers remaining silent and still.

"To our Lord Björn, bless the food before us so that we can enjoy our dinner with absolute peace and gain energy for tomorrow. May your Spirit also shield us from harm and all forms of evil while we celebrate our feast, this we beseech in your Name. Amen." The last word was echoed by her son and colleagues. Afterwards, the Rosträdgårdians and their Smasher allies began to eat their dinner. All persons, even many a hungry fellow like Bowser and excluding R.O.B., ate with dignified formality. As the food on all plates dwindled, quiet conversation slowly emerged from many mouths simultaneously.

"Y'know," Falco sighed to Fox, "I'm expecting some weird stuff to probably happen in the future. You know about that one tournament at the Smash Mansion where our attacks got swapped and hybridized?"

"Oh, yeah," the vulpine commando confirmed. "It was very weird but also fun in a way. I was chuckling my head off when you were using Yoshi's moves against Pichu."

"What're ya folks talkin' about?" Wolf, having overhead the conversation, remarked.

"Oh, we were just starting our conversation about a certain tournament in which someone—and I won't give out names here—screwed up the old portal system at the Smash Mansion, forcing us to use moves normally not associated with us and even hybridizing our own moves with other attacks. You weren't there when it happened, and I don't think anyone's told you about it."

"I'd love to know the story, McCloud." The lupine commando leaned his body towards where his two rivals were at. "Tell me more."

"Alrighty, here it goes…" Falco stated. As he started the explanation to his story, Mario and Peach were in a conversation regarding the latter's near-death and subsequent conversion to a cyborg body.

"When I first-a heard of what-a happened to you," the plumber quietly recalled, "I… I lost it. I assumed that-a Captain Falcon was responsible for your-a near-demise, rejecting everyone else's attempts to calm me down-a. I even gave-a Bowser one sucker punch when he thought it was-a funny to start flapping his big jaw. It-a wasn't until after my group-a defeated Agnetha's monster that a sense of forgiveness overcame me."

"It wasn't Falcon's fault in the first place," the princess clarified. "Dedede, apparently upset that he allowed Jigglypuff and R.O.B. to get captured, decided to disobey Falcon and take the rest of us on a rescue mission. We did get our two missing partners out of an old factory on the outskirts of Port Town, but on the way to safety, a bomb swallowed the back of the Falcon Flyer and me with an explosion. I was barely clinging to consciousness when Dedede escorted me and R.O.B. from a fiery death, but I could tell Falcon was not happy with him. At his estate, he was yelling at him for what had happened to the Flyer."

"And who saved your life-a?"

"A kind man named Doctor Stewart, one of Falcon's colleagues. He and his team were part of a government-sponsored program to create combat cyborgs for military organizations. At Falcon's request, I had the surgery done on me, albeit with the others having to send a copy of the Smash Brothers charter to confirm the legitimacy of our group. At first, I was uptight about my appearance and how everyone else would be able to accept me, but I calmed down very quickly and chose to not worry about it. Besides, it was quite a blast destroying Lords with mighty weapons at my side… and humiliating Bowser." For the last few words, the princess lowered her voice to avoid the Koopa King's ears.

"Right-a. Well, I guess I should-a confess to why my initial reaction was the way it was-a. Before my outburst, I was-a so afraid that you were going to be lost-a to me like… her."

"Her? What do you mean by…?" Her voice was cut off when, after observing the older plumber's face through her cybernetic heads-up display, she remembered the one incident that had torn through the Smash Mansion and other worlds before the Subspace crisis. "Oh, I understand now. You lost her during that incident seven years ago."

"And here's the worst-a part. She and I were supposed to have a nice-a trip in New York, perhaps-a start the road to a wedding, but that-a damn clone of Bowser ruined it all for me. As-a much as I enjoy being with you, she was the one with-a whom I wanted to be married, and he gleefully stole her from-a me." Mario barely succeeded in suppressing the emotional demon that was his burning anger. His voice darkened to what was nearly a grudge-laced tone, and his mind was close to gritting rows of teeth together.

"It was indeed a tragedy, and I understand how much it impacted you. You were so upset such that you ate much less than usual and refused to leave your room outside rare instances, and when the actual Bowser thought it was funny to poke fun at your expense, you lashed out in extreme fury and nearly killed him."

"I've-a already lost her, Peach, and I'll be damned-a before I lose you as well. Anyway, let's-a keep eating." Relaxing his mental state, the plumber continued to consume his dinner, as did the cybernetic princess. Across the table, Pikachu was speaking to its smaller cousin, with Lucario also involved in the conversation.

"Pika?" it asked, curious on how Pichu displayed improvements during the training simulation at the Smash Mansion.

"Pichu-pi," the younger Pokémon squeaked, implicating a teacher. "Pichu, chu."

"A teacher, you say?" the Aura Pokémon added. "Who was it?"

"Pichu-pi. Pichu." The smaller rodent only implied the identity of its teacher, not outright exposing the name of him, her, or it. "Chu, Pichu."

"Interesting… If that is the case, then may your improved abilities serve you greatly on this journey." Lucario continued its conversation with the two rodent Pokémon. Not too far away from the trio was Marth, who mostly kept to himself. He was highly about succumbing to his transformation at the worst possible moment. His food was the most pleasant thing he had ever tasted, maybe even surpassing any form of cuisine at the Smash Mansion or even Altea, but it was not enough to remove his mind from the terrifying possibility of becoming a bloodthirsty monster capable of slaughtering everyone in this room. He desperately needed something to keep himself stable soon or he would risk killing allies against his own will. After remaining silent for minutes, he made a request to Ingrid.

"Your Majesty, I need to stop my transformation into a vampire. I can't afford to transform into a murderous creature."

"Mother," Stefan confirmed quietly, "Marth was bitten by a vampire from the Orm's Lords and is now transforming. Do you have anything that can stabilize him?"

"I do," she replied. "Or rather, Grandmaster Larsson does." With a faint voice, she ordered the immortal Gustaf to perform a spell on the Hero-King. The leader of the Black Guard performed a shower with an orange mist that felt soothingly comfortable to the blue-haired man; the two Smashers next to Marth—Rosalina and Young Link—pulled away slightly in response to the magical display.

"I feel at ease," the king whispered. His body was no longer plagued by urges of bloodthirst, and when he noticed his reflection on a plate, his eyes were revealed to be coated with a violet aura. This was an immense moment of relief for him since he could safely continue the journey without the risk of harming other Smashers. With nothing better to do, he resumed his dinner like normal. To his left were the two PSI users, already engaged in conversation with Rosalina and the Kongs.

"When I finally decide take a break from my business in the Smash Brothers," Ness spoke, "I'll try out for a baseball team at the local college after applying to be a student. While I'm there, I hope to get a degree in sports medicine."

"You have a bright ahead of you, young Ness," the star guardian remarked positively. "May the stars guide you toward the path of greatness."

"What about you, Lucas?" DK asked. "What do you plan on doing when you take a break from being at the Smash Mansion?"

"I… I'm not entirely sure," the younger psychic stammered. "Maybe I want to get involved in the world of philosophy or something like that. But… But I'm not entirely sure."

"Hey, no rush, man. You still have plenty of time to decide what your future's gonna be like. Get what I'm sayin'? Old Cranky Kong didn't start his scientific studies until he was in his fifties, and now he's making quite a living in the jungle."

"Y'know," Diddy added, "Once I get the time, I may look into music theory. Maybe it can help me compose some of the best rockin' music the jungle will ever see."

"Jeff once joked that music theory was just a theory," Ness quipped. "And I was initially confused, this is, until he elaborated about what a theory means in science, which is quite from how we use the term in a colloquial context. I swear, the next time I'm reminded of his joke, I'll just say that a certain theory of science is only a colloquial theory to confuse people." His comment was met with a slight fit of laughter from the Kongs and Lucas. A few seats away, Yoshi, Jigglypuff, Ike, and Kirby were enjoying their food to the fullest.

"It's been a while since I have eaten anything that reminds me of home," the swordsman commented before taking a slice of boiled potato.

"Yoshi like food very much," the dinosaur squeaked joyfully, with both puffballs nodding in agreement. Between Ike and the Mario Brothers were the two bounty hunters, stoic as they usually were. They kept to themselves while enjoying the rich taste of the herring and its complementary food items. Captain Falcon raised his visor slightly to avoid a mess on its glass surface, and Samus was still in her Zero Suit—free from the confines of her bulkier set of mighty armor. Beyond Peach's location were Snake, Olimar, and Mister Game & Watch, who were also enjoying the food. Olimar used a tube from his sack to safely transfer food to his mouth.

"Tasty," the soldier complimented. "I think the Smash Mansion should get some ingredients to make something like this. What do you think?"

"Beep," the flat man agreed. His method of eating was choppier compared to everyone else, but it made his dinner experience no less comfortable. Next to him were Red and his three Pokémon, all of them enjoying their food.

"Saur," Ivysaur, the Grass-type partner to Red, remarked. Its skin was bluish green with dark patches, and on its back was a pink flower with green palm leaves. Its eyes were distinctly red and positioned just above the fanged mouth.

"Man, Queen Ingrid wasn't kidding when she said that this dish was highly valued," the trainer expressed. "I would like to have more of it on the next trip to this kingdom."

"Rargh," was Charizard's expression of agreement with its owner and friend. The Flame Pokémon and its cohorts deeply enjoyed the food like there was no tomorrow; considering that nearly everyone else was also satisfied by tonight's dinner, that was a grand statement. One of the few fighters who had a less positive perception of his Rosträdgårdian dish was Bowser, who was seated next to Charizard.

What is this crap? I can barely swallow it without having the urge to gag. Such a thought remained on his mind while he struggled to avoid vomiting or appearing disrespectful to tonight's hosts. The herring tasted bitter to his tongue, and the potatoes and salad were no better despite not provoking strong reflexes to gag as frequently due to their weaker aroma and flavoring. His son also was not enamored by his dinner, though he was more tolerant of it than his father. Wario, who was to the left of the Koopas, enjoyed the herring and potatoes but found the salad to be subpar. The Ice Climbers, Sonic, and Roy filled up the space to his left, and the Dream Landers were between Young Link and Jigglypuff, the latter of whom was seated next to most of the other Pokémon. All of them except Sonic enjoyed their food to the fullest; the hedgehog was accepting of the potatoes and salad, but he—like Bowser—took issue with the taste of Rosträdgårdian herring.

"Not what I was expecting," he sighed with a dour tone. Filling the gap between him and his Rosträdgårdian hosts were the commandos from Lylat, who were just approaching the end of Fox and Falco's story.

"And that was how our tournament went," the ace pilot concluded. "It was quite the ride and one of the few interesting things that happened before that ugly Bowser clone reared its head into the Smash Mansion and other areas."

"It was crazy but funny," his vulpine friend continued. "I told Marcus this story once, and after I showed footage from my matches to him, he couldn't stop laughing for days."

"I wish I'd been there," Wolf grunted lightly. "It would've been totally hilarious for me to watch you make use of big, bad Bowser's moves, Foxy."

"That was Marcus's favorite moment of the footage: me having to rely on Bowser's sluggish attacks and hybridizations involving my own and those of him. It was so awkward that some Smashers at the time decided to make jokes about it." While the story was finished, the monarchs were engaged in conversation with Svante and Gustaf about recent events.

"You may have noticed the withdrawal of enemy troops from this city," the elderly man noted. "The Lords are up to something with their move, but I cannot be sure what exactly they are planning."

"Are they calling off the siege?" asked the prince. "I cannot imagine that they would be surrendering now, for they are still assailing many other areas throughout the kingdom and even outside its boundaries. We lost contact with our aerial base in Vindfält during the Smashers' return, which is especially problematic due to its status as a crucial place for us."

"We had significant successes against the cultists in the past," Gustaf stated, "And some of our communities are even safe now because of them. Nevertheless, we still have much to do. As for Vindfält, we must send more reinforcements as soon as possible. And for the siege, it is possible that the cultists are giving up on it, but we must be careful to avoid falling prey to hasty assumptions."

"Lastly, the Isola del Inferno is the center of a naval fight between the Lords and a coalition between us and friendly nations," Ingrid added. "We also have aerial forces there, but they are locked in a stalemate. It is vital that we reclaim as much military property as possible to overwhelm the cultists and allow the Smash Brothers to rescue my daughter. We also should heal this city and remodify the barrier before trouble strikes us."

Svante brushed his hair before extending the talks. "Now would be an opportune moment to repair the palace's defense system and, if possible, patch things up." While he continued to speak, most of the Smashers were finished with their dinner. Only a handful of them had yet to complete that process. Mario, having eaten the last of everything on his plate, took a sip from his alcoholic drink during his quiet moment of relaxation. The rich flavor swelled his mouth with an exotic taste like nothing else he had consumed in his years of existence; it was a mild euphoria for him, a small moment of warmth in a cold and painful world, but it was a moment worth remembering. There was no other form of liquor that had provided such greatness in flavor, not even what the Smash Mansion had.

"Wish I could get-a more of this in the future," he sighed pleasantly. Meanwhile, his nearby brother swallowed the last of his water, relieved that he was not as dehydrated anymore. It was slightly upsetting that his glass was empty, but he could simply ask for more once it was time for him to sleep. Thus, his emotional state did not drop into a more caustic type of sadness.

"Mario," he mumbled, "What do you think of our-a dinner here?"

"It's-a some of the best food I've-a tasted in a long time," was the response. "I feel like-a coming back here and-a eating more of it once we close the book on the war."

"Good to know. As for me, it's-a… It's-a…" The younger brother fell silent for at least five seconds.

"What, you don't-a like it?"

"No, no. It's-a great, but it kinda reminds me of what-a Mamma would sometimes make for us-a. Do you remember that-a herring dish she made when we were teenagers?"

"I do. It was-a great to have as-a dinner." Within the next few minutes, the Smashers and their Rosträdgårdian allies finished their food, leaving plates that were mostly devoid of items, edible or otherwise. Ingrid, noticing that her guests were ready for one last phase of the gathering, created an announcement after cutting off the talks with her native cohorts.

"I see that you all have finished your food," she stated. "I sincerely hope it has nourished your bodies and will continue to do so for the night. With the main course complete, we can now move on to the desserts." Her eyes signaled the chefs in the room to retrieve the sweetened dishes for all participants of tonight's gathering.

"What kind of desserts do you have for us?" Ike asked. Privately, he was curious about whatever the Rosträdgårdian kingdom had to offer in the category of sweeter foods.

"There are three options for tonight: a cinnamon bun cake called butterkaka, blueberry yogurt cake, and oatmeal crisp cookies or havreflarn. Of course, if you do not want desserts, you are more than welcome to opt out and let your bodies digest what you have eaten. However, I sincerely recommend that all of you stay here until the feast is over." The assigned chefs reentered the room with all three options on their carts alongside containers designed to carry used plates and silverware. While the Smashers and their hosts gave up their old porcelain food carriers, they also cast their demands regarding the upcoming desserts; of them, only Bowser, Charizard, Gustaf, and Fox politely refused to choose anything. The rest of the group was almost evenly divided on selecting one of the sweet dishes.

"This looks-a delicious," Mario remarked almost eagerly. He had chosen the butterkaka and was now staring at the many cinnamon rolls that contributed to the sweet architecture of his dish.

"I can't wait to dive right in," Falco sighed, ready to consume the blueberry yogurt cake in front of him. He and the other Smashers waited for the chefs to leave before eating, but not before some of them received refills for their drinks. Soon after, nearly the entire group was enjoying sweetness that entered many a watering mouth, and even the few Smashers who did not enjoy the main dish in whole or in part found much comfort in their desserts. All Rosträdgårdian characters at the table also enjoyed their food, but the fact that the distinct tastes of each dessert had already been exposed to their tongues for years lessened the intense pleasure felt by them. Stefan was provoked into recalling a memory of eating a larger blueberry yogurt cake with his younger sister after scooping a small part of his current dish and sliding it into his mouth; at an earlier time, Lillian was gravely ill and barely clinging to life, so the older prince crafted the larger cake as his gift to her during recovery. When he tasted it himself, he was greatly enamored by what he had created long ago.

It was like a red rose in the form of a delicious dessert, albeit forged by human hands. He never truly forgot that first taste, and it had remained on his mind since then. Lillian had also greatly enjoyed the cake, and it brought about a warm smile to her face, a sign of her strong hope in the face of a deadly affliction, as well as a strengthening of the bond between brother and sister.

Lillian, I will bring you back to the kingdom. When peace returns to the world, we will have a cake together. I want to bring a smile back to your face.

Such were his thoughts while he swallowed pieces of the cake with gentle motion. Meanwhile, Ingrid was discussing with Gustaf and Svante about how to proceed with the war.

"Grandmaster," the queen spoke to the vampire, "I received a message from the Orchidacelian president hours ago. He stated that the capital city of his country was recently breached by the Lords and demanded my assistance via the Black Guard. Tonight, I need you and your division to reinforce the city as soon as possible."

"I shall do my best," replied he. Having already finished his dinner, he left the dining room with a Black Guard member who had finished his havreflarn.

"Svante, I want your division to head out to the Northern Plains and reclaim the aerial base before it is too late. If you want, I am going to send some of our guests with you for assistance."

"And what of the enemy at the Isola del Inferno?" the older man asked. "It is only a matter of time before the Lords commit a horrible crime with your unwilling daughter."

The queen brushed her hair before addressing Svante's concern. "Once the bases at Vindfält and the Northern Plains are reclaimed and major points in the kingdom are no longer under attack, I will send our full aerial might to wear down the enemy. In the meantime, we will hold our position with whatever we currently have. Besides, the Lords cannot resurrect the demon without the staff." With nothing else to do, she and everyone else at the table continued to eat until there was nothing left to consume. Drinking glasses were soon deprived of water, milk, sweet liquid, and wine, and the newer plates were stripped of their edible items. R.O.B., the only Smasher to not involve himself in the feast, was staring at the wounded city from a floor meters from the ground and came to be reminded of the destruction that had left many of his old comrades beyond the point of rescue. He had not been able to help them, and that fact tormented his emotional systems—however limited they were—for years and continued even to now.

But he was not going to let the same fate befall the Rosträdgårdian peoples.

"I will do my best to keep them safe, no matter the cost," he quietly swore. His mechanical eyes redirected their attention to the group, whose members were ready to depart and rest for the night. The light-haired queen provided one last announcement to her foreign guests before any of them could exit the elegant dining hall.

"Now that you have finished your dinner, I want your group to enter the guest rooms in the few floors below the throne room. You will know you're in the right location when you see escorts in red robes; they are waiting in a hall with the statue of the Staff of Björn's first maiden, right by the rooms." On cue, most of the Smashers proceeded to leave the room, seeking comfort in sleeping. Only three of them willed themselves to stay behind for asking questions that Ingrid could possibly answer.

"Your Majesty," the plumber in red stated, "I have-a some things to ask-a."

"What would you like to know, dear Mario?" replied she.

"One thing I've-a noticed when confronting the cultists in the Mushroom Kingdom is-a some kind of black goo in a location where my team and I had-a fought them, and it was-a present in areas where they were killed-a. Do you know the reason why?"

Ingrid stared at the stained-glass portrait above her. "The exact cause is unknown, but there have been rumors which claim that the black goo is an ominous omen, one that is said to signify bad luck to opponents of the Lords. Others say that the goo is used by the cultists to mark where their comrades were killed, and few of them state that the goo is directly produced by those who were slaughtered."

"That's-a… interesting. And-a what about the staff pieces? How did they end up-a in worlds outside this one?" While speaking, the stuffed Mario noticed the lone group of chefs removing all plates and silverware from the table before returning to the kitchen.

"Every century, the High Sages of Rosträdgård relocate the pieces to prevent theft at the hands of evil forces; in more recent times, they have been placed in other nations across Terramythica as more evildoers sought to reunite the staff and, in the most recent switches, dimensions outside this one. This mechanism is to ensure that, even if the Pure-Hearted Soul is kidnapped or used with the intent of awakening the evil Svärtad Orm, the resurrection cannot occur."

"On the way to their hideout in my home," Marth added, "One of my partners, who is currently missing, noticed a blood ritual being performed by the Lords. I would like to know why they do something like that."

"Besides offering blood for the vampires in their circle, they perform blood sacrifices based on the belief of supposedly strengthening the Svärtad Orm and satiating its thirst for blood. One aspect of the legend regarding the creature is that those who were loyal offered violent sacrifices to give blood for the monster, which it would eagerly and swiftly consume. Vampires are the most proficient in blood magic, and despite the kingdom now offering equal rights to all citizens after years of social inequality, some of the radical members have joined the Lords in the hopes of boosting the creature's body upon resurrection."

"Those fanatics also have suits that can render them invisible to the naked eye," Falcon spoke.

"Yes, that is true. Barring the Plågoande and other related creatures, which were genetically engineered through science and black magic, most of the equipment used by the Lords originated with Rosträdgårdian technology and later came to be repurposed for malicious deeds. The suits were originally used by the Black Guard to become invisible without the need to utilize each member's magic pool, and the Drakar were based on older models of Rosträdgårdian air units. The Drakar and other war machines were modified by Magnus Hedin, who has a noted fascination of the vehicular sort, and several supplementary items were provided by Johan Eriksson, who is well-versed in trickery and creating new spells for his commanders.

"Of course, I've seen Magnus's skills in racing. He had a massive vehicle for the F-Zero competition. He was very brutal and effective; I can tell you that."

Ingrid eyed the three Smashers in front of her. "Lars Isberg is rumored to be the prime necromancer for the cultists and the one behind the creation of monstrous creatures, and Lina Lindqvist oversees the vampires and is a prime perpetrator in the blood sacrifices. As for Agnetha Lindgren, she is the High Priestess of the Lords, second only to the mysterious leader in authority. Rumor has it that she received her position due to possible nepotism from the masked man."

"Fascinating," Marth remarked. "But there is one thing I must ask; what motivated them to join the Lords?"

"…" The queen fell silent and exhibited a face of discomfort, almost as if she did not want to talk about the subject. Besides the complicated nature, she also felt that revealing all information now would be digging into a taboo area of the kingdom's history. Confronted with the question, she decided to quietly respond with:

"It is… complicated. You will understand in due time. For now, I want the three of you to head for the guest rooms."

"Understood-a," Mario replied. He maintained a straight face while leaving with Falcon and Marth, yet he was secretly confused by Ingrid's refusal to show a straight answer. What was restraining her from revealing the truth, he believed? And he and the others understanding "in due time"? What of that remark? Maybe he would know in the future, but not now. Besides, he needed some rest throughout the dreary night. Falcon and Marth, meanwhile, were disappointed with the queen's response, for they had been hoping to understand the catalyst behind the five captains joining the Orm's Lords.

But there was still hope, and by diving into the heart of the terrible war, they could figure out the true reasons for seeking a monster's resurrection.

Isola del Inferno…

"I will not be denied glory anymore. I shall prove that I am worthy of being a captain in the Orm's Lords." Such were the words of Magnus Hedin as he stood outside the palace of the Lords, isolated on a small hill with rivers of lava pouring in many directions—some of them forming deep lakes—and poisonous gases leaking from volcanic shafts. Next to him was an aerial vehicle loosely resembling that of Lars, with the only differences being a red body and more weapons. In addition to Lars's usual repertoire, the ship possessed a powerful railgun at the front and twin missile launchers at the sides. Underneath the body was a cabinet filled with powerful bombs.

"If he thinks I will allow both that vampire bitch and that goofy piece of shit to steal the limelight from me, he is sorely wrong. I shall take Vindfält on my own and then destroy as much of Björnstad as I can. My servants in Port Town were helpful in managing the base while I was away, but I now have nobody else to trust except for the few who are willing to secretly assist me in my mission. Fuck all the objections thrown at me; I will gladly prove those who doubt my prowess wrong, and when I get the chance, I may even kill both Eriksson and Lindqvist. Perhaps I can drive an iron stake through her heart before turning my attention to him, the greatest source of my raw fury. I will place him through the very same agony he inflicted upon me and leave him BEGGING for mercy before I end his life. With both out of my way, I can convince the leader that they were killed during the attack in Vindfält and let him promote me to a greater status. Nobody will stop me!"

Click…

His husky form stepped into the vehicle before activating the ignition sequence and departing from the island. But his departure was not unnoticed. Lars Isberg, who was returning to the base after stealing supplies from elsewhere, caught his co-captain's vehicle in the corner of his cockpit.

"What is Hedin doing?" he muttered to himself. "I sincerely hope he does not commit an error that will compromise the strength of our organization. After all, he is talented in his own way, and it would a shame if he were to be removed from our circle." As his vehicle approached the palace's hangar bay, the steel doors with the insignia of the Lords opened, sliding past volcanic rock and exposing the very cold environment inside. With enough space for parking, the elderly captain settled his ship on the concrete floor before disabling its engines. While the exit hissed open, he entered the back cabin to retrieve boxes of stolen materials for his personal works as well as activities by other members of the vicious cult.

"I may need to speak with my master regarding Hedin's departure and possible betrayal."

It was very kind of Queen Ingrid to give us a place to stay during our battle with the evil cultists. May my body and my dear child earn rest throughout the night…

-Rosalina

Okay, it's finished. Now, I just need to get it uploaded…

Click…

Johan: Hiya, J.C.! Remilia wanted me to see you. What'cha doing-

WHAM!

You think I am about to let you go scot-free, motherfucker? Did you sincerely believe that I wouldn't respond to your antics in a brutal manner?! *takes sledgehammer to attack Johan*

WHAM!

First, you commit that noisy attic with your stupid horn…

WHAM!

…then you decide to send an unstable vampire after me so that I could be put through a danmaku shower…

WHAM!

…and you finally get me killed by directing a stray spell in my direction! There is no excuse for antagonizing me with such harmful actions!

WHAM!

Johan: Look, I'm sorry! I regret everything I did to you! Those were originally meant to be harmless jokes, but-

SHUT YOUR FUCKING MOUTH!

WHAM! WHAM! WHAM!

*gasping for air* That takes care of him… for now. Do not worry, folks, he isn't dead. But he will be out for a while. As for the story, R&R, and I will see you all later.