Chapter_10: Royal Mansion

As the night enveloped him in its darkness, the stars shimmered above, casting an ethereal glow over the surroundings, and the very atmosphere seemed to undergo a subtle transformation.

Ascending another staircase, 'What really happened to Cliffe and the others? ' he wondered, worrily. With each deliberate step, a sense of unease crept over him.

Upon reaching the top of the staircase, Ragnar was met with the sight of a central fountain, surrounded not by shops but by the headquarters of the royal guards in the district.

Examining the area, Ragnar's eyes swept across every direction. Casting a glance to his left, he discerned the exit of the district.

"It's the exit," Ragnar murmured in a low tone, a sly smile playing at the corners of his lips.

He swiftly made his way towards the exit, maintaining a calm and deliberate pace. However, as he approached the exit, a group of guards crossed his path.

"Sir, are you from the higher districts?" one of the guards inquired in a hushed tone.

Ragnar halted, his confusion evident. "Yes, I was asked by Lady Ana herself to buy these things," he responded, displaying the bags and the sledgehammer holder.

The guard swiftly leveled his lance at Ragnar's face, fixing him with a penetrating stare. "I haven't seen you in the castle; are you absolutely certain you were asked, or are you simply a deceiver attempting to infiltrate the castle?" he demanded with a steely gaze.

As Ragnar cautiously stepped back, the guard advanced, prompting Ragnar to swiftly assume a defensive posture.

"I'm certain, and I was specifically tasked by Lady Ana today. I can assure you of that," he insisted, his tone betraying a hint of panic.

As Ragnar panicked, he recalled the note from Lady Ana. Hastily, he retrieved the note and unfolded it, triggering a look of confusion from the guards.

Unfolding the note, he promptly presented it to the guards. "Here it is, proof that I was asked by Lady Ana herself," he stated in a hurried tone.

The guard in front seized the note, while the others gathered around to examine it. Reading the note, they observed every single word and what the writing looked like.

One of them glared at Ragnar, finishing reading the note. Despite having read the note, anger and disbelief still smoldered in the guards' eyes as they glared at Ragnar.

"Do you truly expect us to believe that Lady Ana wrote this for you?" one of the guards sneered at Ragnar.

The guard in front shifted his lance to his side and swiftly lunged it toward Ragnar's throat. Reacting with lightning speed, Ragnar evaded the blade by a hair's breadth, stepping back just in time.

"You!" the guard growled as Ragnar dodged his attack, preparing to unleash another blow.

The guard delivered a menacing blow aimed at Ragnar's chest, a sly smile playing on his lips. In that moment, Ragnar felt a surge of hopelessness, desperate to retaliate but worried about escalating the situation.

Swiftly evading the blade, Ragnar leaped back, creating distance from the guards.

"Wait! You must believe me; Lady Ana truly ordered me." Ragnar's voice echoed with palpable concern.

As the guard taunted Ragnar, he sneered, "Do you really expect us to trust you? You're a big one; it might take me a while to land a hit."

Repositioning his lance, the guard lunged toward Ragnar, aiming at his chest. Ragnar, feeling helpless, attempted to evade, but the guard's speed left him unable to react in time.

However, just as the guard thrust his arm forward, a rock deflected the lance, altering its course. The guards and Ragnar alike were left bewildered by this unexpected turn of events.

Each of them turned their gaze toward the source of the rock and beheld a man with long, blonde hair and a pallid complexion, clad in royal guard attire and steel armor, with a long blade at his side.

Behind him stood two men, also in royal guard attire. One had dark hair and a scar on the left side of his forehead, with a large blade at his side. The other wore a steel helmet and carried a lance longer than the others.

The guards were utterly shocked by the appearance of the three individuals. The guard facing Ragnar spoke with fear, "Sir Lancelot, this man is a threat to us; he has been attempting to infiltrate the castle."

"Unacceptable. Ragnar, Lady Ana has been waiting for you. Is this the reason for your delay?" The man wearing the helmet removed it, revealing himself to be Damian all along.

The guards were further astonished upon realizing that Ragnar had been truthful. "Sir, we sincerely apologize; we mistook him for a criminal," the guard said in complete shock.

The guards promptly lined up and began doing pushups, while the man with dark hair laughed at them. Damian quickly urged Ragnar, "Let's go; Lady Ana is waiting." He then swiftly led Ragnar up another staircase and out of the Lowfire district, with Lancelot following close behind.

As they moved, the man with dark hair called after the guards, "Do 500 pushups, or I'll make you do 1000 tomorrow."

They hastened through the districts, finally reaching the pathway leading up the mountain to the castle. They ascended quickly, except for the man with dark hair. "Adriel, we need to move faster; stop dawdling," Lancelot urged, shooting a glare at Adriel.

"Yeah, yeah, I'll pick up the pace," Adriel retorted as they continued their ascent.

Along the way, the men noticed the imposing sledgehammer holder on Ragnar's back. "Is this the Acherontian Crusher, Ragnar?" Damian inquired, running his hand over the ornate and valuable holder.

"Yes, I acquired it from Merlin," Ragnar confirmed as they walked.

The men were taken aback by the glistening gems adorning the holder, each one catching the light and sparkling. "So this is the weapon that Apollo will receive tomorrow?" Lancelot asked, curiosity gleaming in his eyes.

"Tomorrow?" Ragnar inquired, turning to Lancelot.

"Tomorrow will be the day when Apollo becomes a Royal Guardian. It's quite surprising that Apollo is the one chosen, considering how hard he has worked to achieve this goal," Lancelot replied with a smile.

"Indeed, he is the most dedicated among us," Damian added, smiling at Ragnar.

The men continued their ascent up the mountain. Ragnar gazed at the view, taking in the serene darkness and the few lights that dotted the Lowfire District at such an early hour. He then slowly retrieved his pocket watch to check the time.

"It's already 6:12 HU," Ragnar said as he checked the time.

As they ascended the mountain, the trees swayed, and the wind swept around them. The towering steel gates of the royal castle came into view, and their expressions shifted to excitement.

"Is that the castle gate?" Ragnar asked, pointing with curiosity.

"Yes, those massive steel gates are the entrance to the royal castle," Damian confirmed, gazing at Ragnar.

As they ascended, their pace quickened with each step, drawing nearer to the imposing gate. Ragnar's gaze met the moon, which cast its ethereal light upon him, while the stars illuminated the path ahead.

Finally, they arrived at the grand royal gate, a formidable structure of steel. Six guards stood in formation, ready to protect and repel any unwanted visitors.

The four of them positioned themselves in front of the steel gates, with Lancelot taking the lead. Clad in steel armor, the guards smiled at Lancelot, who, in turn, nodded back with a sly smile.

"Gideon, it's good to see you. Best of luck tomorrow," Lancelot said kindly, nodding.

Gideon, a dark-skinned man with greenish hair, returned the smile as he and the other guards straightened their postures.

Upon passing through the royal gates, the four men were enveloped by a sprawling, verdant garden. A kaleidoscope of colorful flowers and aromatic herbs greeted them, creating a vibrant tapestry of natural beauty that stretched out before them.

The garden was illuminated by elegant light poles, casting a soft glow over the stone pathway that led to the castle. As they headed towards the castle, Ragnar's gaze swept over the expansive garden, marveling at the sheer expanse of the castle grounds.

During their walk, they encountered another group of guards, each armed with blades at their waists. Lancelot quickly took notice and inquired, "Where's Guinevere, Davi?"

The guards promptly turned their attention to Lancelot, and Davi, a guard with straight brown hair, responded, "She's in the dining hall, engaging in conversation with the royal family during their dinner," gesturing toward the castle.

After responding, Davi quickly noticed Ragnar staring at him in confusion. "Who is that man?" Davi inquired, pointing at Ragnar.

"Don't be disrespectful, Davi. He is Ragnar, the one who was saved by Lady Ana after being attacked by ghouls," Lancelot explained.

"Oh, I didn't mean to disrespect you, Ragnar. It's a pleasure to meet you." Davi extended his hand for a handshake, which Ragnar accepted with a smile.

"Lancelot, you must hurry; Mr. Smith is waiting for all of you. See you next time." Davi waved as they continued on their separate paths.

The men continued their ascent and finally arrived outside the main castle, a modern and white structure. Even more guards awaited them, to whom Lancelot smiled, receiving nods in return.

The guards straightened their postures and secured their blades as the four men entered the main castle. They were greeted by luxurious and modern designs, with every corner of the castle exuding captivation.

Expensive paintings and vases adorned each side of the wall, their captivating colors drawing the eye. Chandeliers hung gracefully from above, casting a gentle sway as light filled the room.

Ragnar, still in shock from the decorations, turned to Damian and asked, "Where are we heading?"

"We're heading to the dining room; Mr. Smith is already waiting for us," Damian replied hurriedly.

As the men hurried through the castle, they encountered various staff members, including maids, butlers, and royal guards. After walking in a straight line for a while, Lancelot turned right, with the others following suit.

Lancelot came to a halt, and the others followed suit. Before them stood a massive wooden door crafted from rare and beautiful Petter logs, known for their crimson hue and durability. Two guards flanked the door, swiftly opening it upon seeing Lancelot.

Adjacent to the door was the expansive dining room, adorned in white with intricate designs. Maids, butlers, and guards watched as the royal family enjoyed their dinner.

As the men entered the room, an ivory-haired woman sat at the far end, dining with impeccable elegance. Her small mouth widened as she delicately consumed her pork, and using a towel, she dabbed the sauce on her lips. A sly smile played on her lips as she fixated her gaze on Ragnar.

"Ah, Ragnar. I see you've finally arrived."