The silver-haired girl nervously ran her hands through her hair, “During that time, I did all kinds of work… maid, cook, laundress, any job I could find to earn a living.” She gave a near self-deprecating smile, her violet eyes flickering.
The less food, the weaker I became, the harder it was to find work, and then…”
She gripped her clothing tightly, head lowered, “The feeling of hunger… it was like the entire world was being sucked away, slowly collapsing. There was nothing, not even garbage. The fields around Mez were ruined by torrential rain. Do you know? When you dig up tree roots, the white layer inside is actually quite edible. But eating too many roots, leaves, and bark makes you swell up, unable to move…”
Melissa suddenly stopped, “Sorry, talking about such unpleasant things.” She tugged at her mouth’s corner, “Anyway, I survived… I was rescued by people from the temple.”
“The temple was also struggling then, but they tried their best to help disaster victims. I was lucky to be helped; some people died in roadside ditches and never got up again,” Melissa shivered as if soaked in mud again, “Afterward… I was assigned to work for Mrs. Shiwen.”
Shiwen? This seemed to be the patron Bella had mentioned. Naily’s eyebrows involuntarily furrowed.
Melissa slept through the entire night without any abnormalities and was ready to set out early in the morning.
She and Melissa left Water Cart Lane, crossing the streets of the old city that had not yet fully awakened, heading towards the high ground in the northeast corner of Mez City. The golden dawn barely leaked through the roof tiles, and each step felt like walking through a gentle golden sand rain, soothing and calming her thoughts.
They soon arrived at the riverside.
The morning light spilled onto the slightly rippling water surface. The Frisian River appeared docile and submissive, as if surrendering to the sharp demeanor of the royal capital. The once surging waters now murmured around the foot of Red Fortress Hill, looking from afar like a soft ribbon adorning the magnificent fortress standing above.
After crossing the bridge and walking for a short while in the northern city, Nelly and Melissa arrived at the outer perimeter of Red Fortress.
The guards at the drawbridge were reserved and polite, showing no contempt despite the women’s ordinary attire. After confirming Melissa’s status as a hero, the guard did not show any extra courtesy, simply adhering to his duty. He stepped forward with a square gait to report to the guard captain, who then relayed the message to the soldiers on the other side of the drawbridge.
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Shortly after, a black-haired man wearing an emerald green robe and a tricorn hat appeared on the other side of the drawbridge. The guard captain escorted Melissa and Nelly across the drawbridge suspended over the moat, bowing respectfully: “Lord Pepin.”
Pepin, the Marquis and court minister of the Melo Dynasty, was a slender middle-aged man. His smile was impeccable, and his deep-colored eyes sparkled with tiny points of light: “Welcome to Mez, honored hero. I hope your journey was smooth?”
Melissa tugged at the corner of her mouth, nervous and slightly stammering: “Uh… it was, uh… fine.”
“That’s wonderful.” Pepin smiled at her, clapping his hands and walking alongside Melissa through the first gate of Red Fortress towards the western tower. “I suppose you’re tired from your journey. Perhaps you’d like to rest a bit and meet His Majesty tomorrow.”
Melissa hesitated: “I’ve already rested for a night…”
Pepin remained composed, showing no displeasure at the hero’s objection. He offered a charming smile: “I understand the hero’s desire to meet His Majesty promptly, but some rules must be followed. Regardless of where a guest comes from, they should be announced by me and allow the royal court some preparation to meet His Majesty the next day.”
Seeing Melissa looking slightly disappointed, Pepin changed his tone: “However, given the importance of this matter, perhaps the hero could wait a bit. I’ll arrange an audience this afternoon?” What could Melissa say? She seemed to have recovered from her nervousness and anxiety, performing a very standard court bow with a gracefully lowered head: “As the court minister wishes.” Pepin smiled again. To Nelly, this curve seemed somewhat mechanical, more like a practiced performance that had become instinctive. “Then please allow me to take my leave. Sir Sien will guide you around Red Fortress.” As Pepin politely excused himself, a blonde, green-eyed young man stepped out from behind him. Nelly heard the name and was slightly startled, her gaze lifting with a momentary pause. It was indeed him. She had witnessed his death. Even though it was in another world, another point in time, Nelly saw the young man’s gentle smile and flashed back to the scene of the knight in a white cape falling into the deep valley with the snow eagle.
She involuntarily shuddered and quickly lowered her head.
Sien was a polite and witty guide. He chatted happily with Melissa as they walked. Nelly simply became a moving backdrop, silently following and lost in thought, not hearing Sien’s explanations at all.
Time passed quickly. Just as Sien was bringing them back to the courtyard, Pepin’s messenger appeared. The man grinned at Sien: “Sir Sien.”
“Sir Bernard.” Sien’s attitude became slightly distant. He turned to bow to Melissa and Nelly, offering a sincere smile: “It was my honor to let you glimpse the scenery of Red Fortress. If there’s a chance in the future, I will definitely show you more of the fortress’s charm.” He bowed: “May the three goddesses bless you, hero.”
Bernard watched Sien walk away, then turned to Melissa with an enthusiastic smile: “His Majesty the King and the lords of the privy council are waiting for you in the audience hall.”
Melissa nodded solemnly. She first lowered her head to check if the famous sword “Hero’s Heart” was properly worn, then raised her head proudly and followed Bernard towards the great hall. The interior of Red Fortress could be described as simple, and even the audience hall was not overly decorated.
Tapestries hung on the pillars supporting the double-layered gallery, telling the history of the Melo Dynasty. Transparent daylight poured onto the white floor. The ceiling’s mosaic was simple, and at a glance, only the throne at the end of the hall appeared particularly luxurious.
A middle-aged man sat firmly on a stone-carved throne. He wore a golden crown, with a long cape draping from the chair to the floor, and a long sword resting on his knees. The throne was far from the hall’s door, and one would need to approach to see his face clearly. However, intimidated by the knights and nobles standing behind him, Melissa hastily lowered her gaze humbly: “Greetings, Your Majesty.”
Nelly was unfazed, stealing a glance at King Clove II, the monarch of the Melo Dynasty, while half-kneeling in salutation.
Clove II had a typical king’s face, with regular features and a serious expression. His hair was braided behind him, and the fingers resting on the throne were strong and muscular, bearing traces of martial training.
“Rise,” Clove responded solemnly, a slight smile crossing his face.
Melissa thanked him and stood, immediately presenting the letter from the Nafari Marquis. Piping, standing to Clove’s left, stepped forward to receive it and read it aloud.
Clove listened quietly, then nodded gravely: “With the Demon King rampaging, as the continental lord, I will immediately summon the best knights from all countries to support Nafari.”
