CHAPTER 93: DINNER HALL

[HOST STATUS]

Name: Tatehan

Level: 6

Species: Human (Enhanced)

Knowledge: 85/100

Repair points: 28/100

[ABILITIES]

• Gravity Manipulation - Level 7 ]

• Regeneration (partial) - Level 5

• Enhanced Durability - Level 0.7

[Inventory:]

[Shadow goblins core: 2]

[Chakrams]

[Map]

[Sharp sword]

[Knight armor]

[Your Backpack]

[Pistol]

Tatehan examined his stats. He realized that he had sure received a lot of knowledge points prior to when he first arrived on mars.

And he even felt that it was evident to an extent, he was able to process words much more quicker and efficiently than before.

The only thing lacking at this point was his repair points. He had spent about two months on mars and he still wasn’t at 40 percent, the required threshold so he could summon the spaceship into his system space (inventory...)

Although majority of the two months had been spent in coma, it was still a significant of time gone.

An hour later, after laying on the bed, resting and looking through the window, he heard a firm knock on the door.

He dismissed the glowing interface with a thought and stood up, wincing slightly as his ribs protested the movement. The partial regeneration was working, but he was still sore.

"Coming," he called out, walking toward the door.

He pressed the panel, and the door slid open with a soft hiss to reveal Kessa standing in the corridor. She had removed her helmet, revealing sharp features and dark eyes that assessed him quickly.

"It’s time for dinner," she said simply. "Are you ready?"

Tatehan nodded. "Yes, thank you." He sure was using a lot of Thank yous since he came here.

He stepped out into the corridor, and the door slid shut behind him automatically. Kessa turned and began walking down the hall, and Tatehan fell into step beside her.

They walked in silence.

The corridor was quiet, their footsteps barely making a sound on the polished stone floor. The amber lights overhead cast everything in a warm glow, but there was something about the silence that felt almost deliberate, as if Kessa was the type of person who didn’t speak unless there was something worth saying.

That was likely it, if it was Riven or the spaceship AI, they would have probably engaged in a conversation.

Tatehan was fine with that though. Not that there was anything to discuss with this stranger.

After a short walk, Kessa stopped in front of a door three rooms down from where Tatehan had been. Tatehan realized that it was clearly Riven’s room.

She knocked twice, firmly but not aggressively.

A moment later, the door slid open, and Riven appeared. She had clearly taken advantage of the washing facilities as well. Her hair was damp and pulled back, and she’d changed into clean clothing from the wardrobe—simple dark pants and a fitted gray shirt that looked practical and comfortable.

She looked refreshed, though Tatehan could see the lingering tension in her eyes. The fight had affected her too, even though she hadn’t been the one in physical danger. There had been some pressure, since she was a fundamental part of the fight.

"Ready?" Kessa asked.

"Ready," Riven confirmed, stepping out into the corridor.

The door slid shut behind her, and the three of them began walking together, Kessa leading, with Tatehan and Riven following side by side.

Again, silence.

Tatehan glanced at Riven, and she glanced back at him. There was a brief, unspoken exchange, a mutual acknowledgment of the strangeness of their situation. Hours ago, they’d been fighting for survival. Now they were being escorted to dinner like honored guests.

They reached the end of the corridor and passed through another heavy door that led outside briefly. The cool evening air hit Tatehan’s face as they crossed a short open courtyard. Above, the Martian sky was now fully dark, dotted with unfamiliar stars. The compound’s lights cast long shadows across the ground.

Kessa led them toward a large building on the opposite side of the courtyard, easily the biggest structure Tatehan had seen in the compound so far. It was built in the same dark metallic style as the others, but with more elaborate red accents around the entrance. Two guards stood flanking the doorway, and they nodded respectfully to Kessa as the group approached.

The doors were already open, and warm light spilled out from inside.

They entered.

The main hall was impressive. The space was vast, with a high vaulted ceiling supported by thick beams of that same organic-looking metal. The walls were decorated with various weapons mounted in display—swords, axes, spears, and some firearms that looked both ancient and futuristic at the same time. Banners bearing the Red Crest Clan’s symbol (a stylized red emblem that resembled a rising sun crossed with a blade) hung at intervals along the walls.

The floor was made of smooth, dark stone, polished to a dull shine. In the center of the hall was a long table, easily capable of seating thirty people, though tonight only a portion of it was set for dining.

The commander sat at the head of the table in her hovering chair, which had been lowered so she was at an appropriate height. Around the table sat perhaps a dozen other people, a mix of warriors, guards, and what Tatehan assumed were senior members of the clan. They were tall, bulky and hefty, some with beards engulfing their faces like Mub and others none. Tatehan saw not a single lanky person there.

Thinking about it now, he wasn’t sure they were any lanky person here. Of course he had spotted some at the hall but he couldn’t see any as guards or warriors. The few he had seen that were kind of lanky had some muscles to accompany their build.

They were talking amongst themselves in low voices, but conversation quieted as Tatehan, Riven, and Kessa entered.

All eyes turned toward them.

Tatehan felt the weight of their gazes—curious, assessing, some respectful, others wary.

The commander gestured to two empty seats near the middle of the table, across from where she sat. "Please, join us. Sit."

Kessa bowed slightly to the commander, then turned and left without a word, her duty completed.

Tatehan and Riven walked to the indicated seats and sat down. The chairs were surprisingly comfortable, made of the same dark material as everything else but cushioned with fabric.

"Welcome," the commander said, her voice carrying easily across the hall. "I’m glad you could join us. Tonight, we eat not just as a clan, but with a guest who has earned our respect."

’A guest who had earned their respect?’ Tatehan thought.

Seemed they valued power here. The moment you fail you are forgotten. They didn’t even bother to organize some sort of ceremonial burial for Mub. That was to show how easily one was forgotten here— especially for Mub who had died a very shameful death.

There were murmurs of acknowledgment around the table, though Tatehan noticed a few faces that looked less than thrilled about his presence.

"Let the meal be served," the commander announced.

Almost immediately, several people emerged from a side door—servers, Tatehan realized, though they wore the same practical clothing as the warriors. They carried large platters and began setting them on the table with practiced efficiency.

The food was substantial and hearty.

The main dish appeared to be roasted chicken—or at least, something very similar to chicken. The meat was golden-brown and glistening, seasoned with herbs that gave off a savory, slightly spicy aroma. It had been carved into portions and arranged on large serving plates.

Alongside the chicken were various side dishes: roasted vegetables that looked like a cross between potatoes and carrots, their edges caramelized and crispy; a grain dish that resembled rice but had a slightly reddish tint; and what appeared to be some kind of flatbread, still warm and giving off a fresh-baked scent.

There were also bowls of what looked like a thick stew, dark and rich, with chunks of meat and vegetables visible in the broth.

Pitchers of water and another beverage, something amber-colored that might have been ale or some Martian equivalent, were placed at intervals along the table.

It was more food than Tatehan had seen in days, and his stomach growled audibly in response.

The commander gestured broadly to the spread. "Eat. There’s plenty, and you’ve both earned it."

Around the table, people began serving themselves, passing platters and filling their plates. The atmosphere became less formal as the meal began, conversations resuming in smaller groups.

Tatehan reached for the chicken, serving himself a generous portion, along with some of the roasted vegetables and grain. Riven did the same, though more cautiously, clearly still uncertain about their situation.

As Tatehan took his first bite of the chicken, he was pleasantly surprised. It was tender and flavorful, the seasoning perfectly balanced, savory with just a hint of heat. The vegetables were crispy on the outside and soft inside, and the grain had a nutty, satisfying taste.

It was, without question, the best meal he’d had since arriving on Mars.

Around him, the clan members ate and talked, and for the moment at least, Tatehan allowed himself to simply exist in this strange, unexpected moment of peace.