Chapter 22: Meeting The Real King

A voice booms from above, startling her out of her reverie.

"Who are you?"

Nyssara's eyes snap upward, and her breath catches. A guard stands atop the wall, clad in gleaming armor that exudes power. Even from this distance, she can feel his strength—a presence equal to her own.

"Even the guards…" she mutters, disbelief lacing her voice. "They're as strong as me."

Swallowing her pride, Nyssara straightens herself, raising her voice to be heard.

"I am here by the order of… His Majesty," she calls out, her tone firm but respectful. "I've come to deliver these minerals."

There's a moment of silence, the guard scrutinizing her from his lofty perch. Then, with a low groan, a smaller gate embedded within the towering wall creaks open, revealing a narrow path leading into the city.

"Enter," the guard commands, his voice devoid of warmth.

Nyssara hesitates, her legs rooted to the ground. The enormity of what lies ahead presses down on her, but she forces herself to move. She steps through the gate, her silk pack of minerals weighing heavily on her back.

As soon as Nyssara steps inside, she stops in her tracks, her eyes widening in awe. The air feels different here—charged, almost sacred. The polished streets shimmer faintly, that seems both eternal and unnatural. Grand arches and towering spires surround her, their designs intricate and otherworldly, as though crafted by divine hands.

"It feels like…" Nyssara whispers, her voice trembling, "I've stepped onto the land of gods."

She takes a cautious step forward, her claws clicking softly against the stone pavement. But as she looks around, a strange realization dawns on her. It's quiet. Too quiet. The vast streets and majestic plazas, which she imagined would be bustling with powerful monsters, are eerily empty.

Nyssara furrows her brow, her earlier awe giving way to confusion.

"This… Why is the city empty?" she murmurs, her voice echoing in the silence.

Shaking off the unease creeping into her chest, she adjusts the weight of the minerals on her back and sets her sights on the colossal castle looming in the distance. It dominates the cityscape, its spires piercing the heavens, and its gates radiating an aura of power that dwarfs everything else around it.

After what feels like an eternity, Nyssara finally arrives at the castle gate. Two figures stand before it, clad in golden armor so immaculate it almost hurts to look at. Their helmets gleam under the ethereal light of the city, and the intricate patterns etched into their armor suggest both artistry and power.

Nyssara slows her steps, her eyes narrowing as she studies them. Unlike the guards she encountered earlier, she doesn't feel a suffocating aura emanating from these two.

'They're guarding the king's castle,' she thinks, her mandibles twitching slightly. 'There's no way they're weak. If the city's normal guards are my equal, then these two…'

Nyssara suppresses a shudder at the thought. She straightens herself and steps forward, her claws clicking softly against the stone. The guards turn their heads toward her in unison, their movements precise, almost mechanical.

"His Majesty is waiting for you in the throne room," one of them says, his voice deep and steady.

Nyssara blinks, taken aback by the lack of hostility or scrutiny. She nods stiffly. "I… understand," she says, trying to keep her voice steady.

The second guard gestures toward the towering doors behind them. "Proceed. Do not deviate from the path."

For a moment, Nyssara hesitates. Her instincts scream at her to ask questions—to demand why this city is so empty, why its guards are so calm, why she was summoned in the first place. But the weight of the golden figures' gazes keeps her silent.

Dipping her head in acknowledgment. She steps forward, her legs carrying her toward the colossal gates. As she approaches, the doors begin to open, the sound of grinding stone reverberating through the air.

Beyond the gates lies a long, gilded corridor lined with towering statues. The sheer opulence of it makes her feel small, insignificant.

Nyssara glances back at the guards, but they've already returned to their statuesque stillness. Swallowing her unease, she steps through the gates, the path ahead illuminated by an otherworldly glow.

As Nyssara walks deeper into the gilded corridor, her thoughts begin to spiral.

"That man… he really is a king," she murmurs, her voice barely audible in the vast, echoing hall.

She tightens her grip on the silk straps of her pack.

"I thought he was just another powerful monster pretending to be a ruler, like so many others in the forest. But this city… even its lowest guards are as strong as those so-called kings."

Her mandibles twitch as a wry smile tugs at her lips. "He wasn't lying when he said I'd gain more by serving him. I… I can't believe I'm even thinking this, but maybe… maybe this is the greatest decision I've ever made."

She stops abruptly, her eyes widening in realization. "Also, I didn't even ask for his name," she whispers, her voice tinged with embarrassment.

Before she can dwell on it further, the sound of light footsteps draws her attention. Nyssara glances up to see a figure approaching—a humanoid bunny with silver fur and long ears tied back neatly. She wears an elegant maid's uniform, tailored perfectly to her lithe form, and her eyes gleam with a mixture of warmth and authority.

"Welcome," the bunny maid says, her voice smooth and polite.

She dips into a slight bow, her ears twitching gracefully. "I am the head maid, and I've been instructed to guide you to His Majesty's throne room."

Nyssara blinks, momentarily taken aback by the maid's appearance and composure.

"Oh… uh, thank you," she stammers, regaining her posture.

The maid straightens and offers a gentle smile.

"Though it is a bit of a walk. Please, follow me. His Majesty doesn't like to be kept waiting."

The rest of the walk is silent, save for the soft clicks of Nyssara's claws against the polished floor.