Wizard: Unlimited Profession Slots Chapter 692 - 326

"Before starting our meal, allow me to present tonight's selection of dishes to all of you."

With elegant poise, Cassandra lifted a menu crafted from animated parchment, where the words appeared to shift their details based on the viewer's inner feelings:

"Each item on the menu this evening carries a unique background and deeper meaning."

The initial course arrived promptly.

A platter of apparently commonplace crimson berries lay before them, yet Ron spotted an oddity right away.

Tiny openings covered the skins of these berries, and they exhibited gentle respirations.

"Behold the ’Blood Fruits’, originating from the Tree-man clan in Nodra Forest."

A hint of pride colored Cassandra's introduction:

"Tree-men rely on these as their primary sustenance, packed with potent vital essence and shards of recollections."

She sliced into one berry softly, releasing a pale emerald vapor at once.

Forest freshness permeated the atmosphere, blended with a peculiar hint of rot that defied easy description.

"Once eaten, it bestows briefly the Tree-men's sense of vitality and allows immersion in the embedded memory pieces." Cassandra went on to elaborate:

"Naturally, much of this involves demise and agony, though gems of useful data emerge too."

Ron sampled a tiny portion and sensed a torrent of jumbled memory bits surging through his thoughts:

Woodland merriment, an abrupt blaze of horrifying fire, wails of Tree-men in hopelessness, and... the impassive visage of the invader.

"What fate befell the Nodra Tree-men?" Uther asked steadily.

"Resistance was their choice." Cassandra's voice grew icy:

"Sadly, the Nodra Forest now lies as charred wasteland.

Still, sufficient life samples were saved, encompassing seeds from these Blood Fruits.

In time, revival in a better habitat might be possible."

This revelation caused Eve's grip on her silverware to quiver faintly: "The whole race is..."

"Wiped out entirely by my doing." Cassandra stated bluntly:

"Their society lagged too far to offer worthwhile advances for us. Retaining them merely squandered assets."

The following course evoked profound unease among the diners.

A transparent fish thrashed about, its pulsing heart and circulating blood plainly seen inside.

More chilling still gleamed the spark of awareness in the creature's gaze.

"Meet the ’Thought Fish’, hailing from the brainy underwater folk of Crystal Waters."

Cassandra employed a custom fork to secure the wriggling specimen:

"Human-level smarts define them, enabling intricate reasoning via natural electric signals."

The prongs sank into the fish's form, eliciting a cry eerily like a person's shriek.

Its gaze flashed wildly, as though lost in a last reflection.

"Devouring a live Thought Fish boosts mental function briefly and sharpens analytical skills."

Undeterred by the grim looks around her, Cassandra pressed on:

"Vitality is key; benefits dwindle fast post-mortem."

"Cassandra..." Uther growled in fury, "This amounts to vivisection, not a feast."

"Does it truly matter?" The witch shot back, bewilderment in her stare:

"Don't we eat living beasts routinely? Merely because these have awareness, do they merit exemption?"

Gracefully, she savored a morsel of the fish: "Intellect ought not exempt one from fate, particularly when it aids no superior society."

The plate's fish twitched feebly, stirring tangled feelings within Ron.

Logically speaking, Cassandra's argument held no faults.

Yet, witnessing the dimming light in those eyes stirred an instinctive revulsion in him.

The final dish's arrival halted all motion in the dining hall.

An unremarkable basin of dense broth featured buoyant, see-through orbs on top.

A nearer look revealed each orb housed a tiny cerebrum, with subtle nerve pulses persisting.

"Behold ’Wisdom Soup’," Cassandra declared with rare gravity:

"Derived from the cerebrums of the ’Scholar Species’.

This aware kind dedicates itself utterly to hoarding wisdom; eons of evolution granted their minds supreme capacity for data retention and computation."

The ladle rose in her hand, swirling the broth lightly:

"One scholar's full lifetime of lore resides in every orb.

Sipping this broth might yield snippets of that wisdom."

Those pulsing brains in the soup churned a fierce queasiness in Ron.

Nevertheless, a dreadful truth dawned on him then.

Viewed through utility alone, Cassandra's reasoning stood impregnable.

"I believe I've grasped the Tower Master's purpose."

His words came level, devoid of any feeling:

"The mighty claim dominion over the feeble's every facet—life, intellect, essence itself."

"Precisely." Cassandra approved with a nod:

"You get it, as I expected. This governs the cosmos—the robust endure, the powerful dominate."

"Yet one query lingers." Ron persisted: "Should this exploitation endure, into what monsters shall we evolve?"