Morning light swept over the snow-covered spires, bathing a majestic yet understated palace in a pale gold chill, rendering it like an exquisite painting.
In this tranquil and warm light, the privy minister, Dagro, stood at the threshold of the palace's Audience Hall, his lake-deep gaze drifting toward the palace gates in the distance.
Fine snowflakes, tiny as dust, still drifted through the air.
Retracting his profound gaze, the privy minister, who held an exalted status within the Katar Kingdom, turned his head slightly. Behind him, across the long red carpet and up the high steps of the dais, sat King Weis, silently upon his throne.
In the dim shadows, his full head of white hair was exceptionally striking, making him appear so frail and aged that he seemed like an old man on the verge of death at any moment.
Dagro did not look directly at King Weis; instead, he lowered his gaze toward the bright red carpet and spoke with a deliberately somber tone.
"Heavy snow fell suddenly upon Katar last night. In my humble opinion, there may be grievances among the people, though I do not know which case they stem from."
His words carried a hidden meaning, one that was not difficult for King Weis to discern.
King Weis did not answer; his only task now was to wait.
Dagro did not speak further. As a long-time friend of King Weis, he understood the King's current state of mind very well.
Princess Ruiya was his only child and dearly beloved, yet she had gone missing multiple times recently, causing this elderly father to age significantly in just two short weeks.
Dagro could also deeply empathize with the pain of losing a child.
After all, he had just received news of his eldest son's passing yesterday.
The eldest son of the Kritov family had actually been assassinated by enemy spies within the Duke's Manor, and he had failed to notice anything amiss until it was too late. This was not only a disgrace to the Kritov family but also a failure of his duty as a father.
He wondered if he should show more concern for his younger son now, even if that boy was quite a headache at times.
As he drifted into thought, a commotion suddenly erupted at the palace gates. The royal knights on either side, clad in silver armor, raised their silver spears in unison before slamming them heavily against the ground, the weighted sound making the earth tremble.
The royal knight commander walked at the forefront. Having already received word, he did not make things difficult for the people from the Sin Hunting Bureau.
He offered a salute to the group and then looked toward the white-haired girl being escorted by several hunters. She was wearing heavy restraining armor and several layers of thick shackles.
The royal knight commander paused. Even with his vast experience, he had never seen such a display used on even the most heinous of prisoners.
It was as if the people from the Sin Hunting Bureau were escorting an extremely terrifying criminal.
Yet no matter how he looked at her, she seemed like a perfectly normal girl, albeit with a rather stunning appearance; beyond that, there was nothing particularly memorable about her.
"Vice Chief Chalias, is all this really necessary?" the royal knight commander asked, looking quite helpless at the middle-aged man leading the Sin Hunting Bureau—the vice chief, Chalias.
Chalias gave a simple, honest-looking smile. "Of course it is. After all, she is a cultist, and very likely an existence at the bishop level. We must take precautions."
"Alright, release her," the royal knight commander said with a darkened expression. "Tying her up like this is unseemly. His Majesty wishes to consult her, so she must be treated with due courtesy."
"Is that really wise? In case she..." Chalias didn't finish his sentence, but the worried look on his face made his thoughts clear.
The royal knight commander remained indifferent and said calmly, "While I wouldn't dare claim to be invincible, how powerful do you think this girl would have to be to assassinate His Majesty under the watch of Duke Dagro and myself?"
"Unless a peerless-tier mage were to take action, but that level of mage..."
The royal knight commander let out a cold snort and didn't finish, because he didn't need to; Chalias already understood his meaning.
A peerless-tier mage was one between level 70 and 80. In this era where the gods had vanished, there was only one person on the entire continent at that level.
The Pope of the Original God Church.
The royal knight commander's meaning was clear: with him and Duke Dagro present, no one could harm His Majesty.
Chalias did not press his point further and ordered the other hunters to release Grinya's restraints.
"We have checked; she has no weapons on her. You can rest assured on that point," Chalias said.
"Good." The royal knight commander nodded. He glanced at Chalias and the others. "You all wait outside for now."
"We can't go in?" Chalias frowned.
"You're a royal-tier mage bringing in so many top-tier combatants. What exactly are you planning to do?" The royal knight commander gave him a strange look.
"Are you trying to start a coup?"
Chalias choked on his words, speechless. He could only wave his hand quickly, signaling for the royal knight commander to take Grinya away.
Stepping through the palace gates and walking across the vast plaza, Grinya felt her heart grow more uneasy with every step.
She was about to meet His Majesty the King.
This was something she wouldn't have even dared to imagine before. After all, those qualified to meet the King were people far above her station. For an ordinary person, catching even a glimpse of the King was a luxury that only came with extreme luck.
And now, she was treading upon the white jade tiles of the palace, about to face the supreme ruler of this kingdom.
Her heart felt an unprecedented level of nervousness, perhaps even more than when she had faced the Great Evil God.
After all, a god was something distant and unreachable to her, whereas the King was someone she had been taught to respect since childhood.
"It's okay, Grinya. You have to believe in yourself."
"You must not be nervous."
"Imagine the King is a winter melon. Yes, imagine he's just a winter melon!"
"Winter melon, winter melon, winter melon..."
She took a deep breath and gradually calmed down.
Her gray eyes regained their strength, and with steady steps, she followed the royal knight commander to the Audience Hall.
Grinya looked at Dagro standing at the door. Those familiar golden eyes made her pause for a moment.
Is he... Buze's father?
As Grinya stared in realization, Dagro met her questioning gaze and knit his brows.
Being stared at directly by a commoner made him feel as if the very air had been fouled; it was quite unpleasant.
Dagro let out an imperceptible tsk.
Grinya: "..."
She felt like she had just been snubbed.
"Criminal Grinya Loran, in the presence of the Supreme One, why have you not knelt!" the royal knight commander barked.
Grinya's body jolted. She snapped back to her senses and looked toward the throne atop the dais, where the King sat, appearing immensely majestic in the dim light.
A primal fear from the depths of her heart made her subconsciously fall to her knees.
Her face was pale as she spoke blankly,
"G-Grinya... greetings, Winter Melon Majesty!"
"..."
Inside the hall, there was a long, dead silence.
Dagro and the royal knight commander simultaneously stared at her as if they were looking at a monster.
Having realized her slip of the tongue, Grinya was now filled with bitter regret.
If she could, she really wanted to just stab herself and end it all right there.
Rate on N.U.
