Finally, I can Retire, Or so I Thought

Meanwhile, at the exact same time inside the Northgard royal palace, crash! A servant leaped backward in terror at the sight of a shattered glass at her feet, liquid soaking into the servant’s pale, trembling ankles.

"I told you I wanted wine! Why did you bring me cheap tea from the market?! Are you asking for a death sentence?!" Gred roared.

"B-but, Your Highness..."

"I was the one who told her to bring you cheap tea. It’s the middle of the day and you’re already drinking yourself senseless."

Hearing the woman’s voice cut off the servant, Gred turned to see his mother, Helga, standing in front of the servant to shield her. Gred turned his head back around and rested his forehead in his hand, his face looking utterly exhausted and plagued with a headache. Helga gestured for the servant to leave, stepping forward toward the desk. The servant bowed deeply and scrambled out of the room. Seeing his mother approach, Gred pushed the official letter from the Kingdom of Eredor across the desk, right in front of her.

"Read this letter, Mom," Gred said, his voice raspy.

Helga calmly picked up the letter and unrolled it, her eyes sweeping from right to left as she read the contents. Bit by bit, her expression turned dark, then drained of all color, though she quickly regained her composure. She calmly folded the letter back up and set it down on the desk.

"And so you failed to join the mirror summit, even after being summoned?" Helga asked.

"How could I join?! You read the letter, Mom! Sheila is over there, and she’s betrothed to the lord of the Dark Forest... exactly as Father wanted, since Father and that lord’s father were close friends and brothers-in-arms! Where does that leave us now?! Sheila is definitely going to ask her future husband for help to take this kingdom back!" Gred blurted out, pouring his heart out.

The room fell completely silent. Helga appeared amused, watching her terrified son cower in front of her, until she finally could no longer hold back her laughter.

"Hahaha! So that’s what you’re afraid of?" Helga scoffed. "What is there to fear? If her future husband tries anything funny, we simply wipe out his territory. We have a military force strong enough to stand against any kingdom, including Minatheras," Helga added.

Gred lifted his head, staring at his mother who was still smiling. There wasn’t a trace of a smile on his face, nor was there anger—only raw fear and a desperate urge to flee his own kingdom. He glared at his mother intently.

"You have no idea how terrifying that lord is. When I returned, I told you everything, didn’t I? About the Demon Lord René mentioned... that man... that guy... HE is that Demon Lord! Do you still not get it, Mom?! I saw it with my own eyes! A single swing of his sword cleared out an entire forest, with Gemmeth standing right behind him! Do you still think any of this is a joke?!" Gred demanded, his voice cracking with anxiety.

Hearing her son’s outbursts, Helga didn’t flinch. Instead, she took a step forward and leaned down over her son, pinching his cheeks with her hand to force his face up toward her.

"There is no need to fear. We will invite Sheila and her fiancé over after they return. I will personally travel to his territory to deliver the invitation myself. Sheila is not a child who lacks filial respect for her parents. Leave it to me. For now, go answer the summons from those three kings before this turns into a massive problem," Helga instructed firmly.

Gred stared into his mother’s eyes, seeing absolute confidence in what she planned to do next. Out of the deep trust he held for his mother, who had brought him this far, Gred managed a faint smile. He nodded, slowly peeling his mother’s hand off his cheek.

"Alright, Mom... I understand. As long as I just agree to whatever they propose, right? That’s all?" Gred asked.

"Good boy. You’ve learned how we play this game. I won’t be accompanying you because I have matters to attend to, so please go answer their call immediately," Helga said.

"Alright, Mom. I’ll head to the mirror room now," Gred replied, standing up.

"Wash your face first. You at least need to maintain your image in front of the three kings waiting for you," Helga countered.

"Got it, Mom. I’m going," Gred said.

Gred walked over to the door and exited his office. Slam! The moment the door clicked shut, Helga’s previously calm face underwent a total transformation, turning deathly pale as if she had just watched a horror movie. She walked over, sank into the chair behind the desk, and stared back down at the letter. Her thumb moved up to her mouth and she began frantically gnawing on her nail like someone consumed by raw panic and nerves. Thud! She slammed the letter onto the desk, her face flushing crimson with a sharp, murderous glare directed ahead.

"Dammit... even in death, Bord and Darien are still haunting me! I paid those bandits a fortune to eliminate Darien and his wife... turns out they had a son, and now that son is betrothed to Sheila! I cannot allow this. I’ve come way too far... there is no way I’m letting go of everything I’ve built," she thought to herself.

Helga sat frozen in her panic, her foot tapping incessantly against the floor as she kept biting her thumbnail. Suddenly, the door opened, and the servant who had fled earlier peeked inside. Seeing the servant, Helga waved her over. The servant stepped inside, shut the door behind her, and approached the desk where Helga sat. She stood silently in front of Helga, who was rapidly drafting a letter on the desk.

Helga stamped the letter, rolled it up, tied it with ribbon, and applied another wax seal to close it off. She then looked up at the servant.

"Deliver this to General Dhorga. Tell him it is a private matter concerning the royal family... he will understand and accept the letter. Go, now," Helga instructed, handing the scroll over.

"Y-yes, Your Highness," the servant stammered, receiving the letter.

The servant turned on her heel and bolted for the door. Once the door shut tight, Helga leaned back in her son’s chair, her face still pale and stricken with panic.

"Hopefully Dhorga can handle this problem to save his own son... and me," she thought in her head.

***

Meanwhile, in the city of Springrock, the carriage carrying Dion and the others began rolling into town. As they traveled down the main thoroughfare, Dion noticed a massive crowd following the carriage with wild enthusiasm, looking almost like a welcoming parade. He turned to Mei.

"Do they welcome every tourist here with a parade?" Dion asked.

"Uh... just wait and see for yourself," Mei replied, looking thoroughly unmotivated to explain.

"Well, the locals here are undeniably friendly, right Mei?" Aria chimed in.

"Yeah... right... very friendly," Mei replied, clearly hiding something.

Once they reached the center of town at the main carriage stop, Dion, holding Gina, stepped down alongside Mei, Sheila, Aria, Luna, Cleo, and the two Shadow Hand operatives. Immediately, they were swarmed by the crowd that had been following their carriage. The second he looked at the crowd, Dion instantly realized why they had been following them: they were all hawking their goods and services.

"Step right up! Freshly picked fruit from this morning, only five silver a kilo!"

"Looking for a place to stay? My inn features an open-air bath overlooking the valley, plus home-cooked meals guaranteed to delight!"

"Where are you folks visiting from? Why not rest your feet at our tavern? We offer refreshing drinks to quench any thirst!"

"My, what a handsome man! Are you looking for a good time? Our girls are ready to serve you all night long and we welcome elegant, gorgeous ladies like yourselves too!"

"Feeling sore from the journey? We can revive your body with top-quality massages from certified experts at our establishment!"

The street dissolved into absolute chaos. Merchants, innkeepers, tavern owners, massage therapists, and even brothel owners from the red-light district crowded around them so tightly that they couldn’t move an inch. Dion turned to look at Aria and Mei, who were equally trapped.

"Friendly, you said?" Dion asked, narrowing his eyes as he held his hands up defensively while Gina ducked safely inside his shirt.

"Haha... see? Friendly!" Aria chuckled, throwing her hands up to push back the crowding vendors.

"Glad you got to experience it firsthand," Mei added. As a local, she was hardly immune to being swarmed by her fellow townspeople.

Dion looked over to see Luna already looking intrigued by a massage and traditional medicine pitch being delivered by a female therapist, Cleo listening attentively to a tavern owner describing various exotic brews, and Sheila eyeing some local handcrafted souvenirs being offered to her.

"Hey... don’t you three go doing anything stupid," Dion warned the trio.

Luna, Cleo, and Sheila turned to look at Dion. Their faces instantly fell into pouts, but they pressed in close to Dion’s side anyway.

"Fine," the three of them grumbled in unison.