The Settlement

Everything then settled as Richard and Elsa sat facing each other. Elsa, her gaze sharp as ever, leaned forward. "Why did you destroy the UnReal?" she asked, her tone filled with a mix of suspicion and curiosity.

Richard smirked. "That wasn't the real UnReal. I knew it the moment he called it 'The UnReal.' Because it was never just one. It was 'The UnReals.'"

Elsa frowned. "What do you mean?"

Richard leaned back, his arms crossed. "The UnReals is a group of five individuals. Not some mere artifact or single entity."

Elsa's eyes widened slightly. "You mean those UnReals?"

Richard nodded. "Exactly. And now, everything has changed."

Meanwhile, Raiden, who had been observing the conversation, decided it was time to leave. Richard accompanied him, and soon, he found himself at Raiden's house.

The world outside seemed calm for once, but Richard knew better. There was always another storm coming.

---

Elsewhere, Reio sat alone, his mind conflicted. Everything that had transpired gnawed at him. Richard had manipulated everything, outmaneuvered everyone, and even saved Valsheim by tricking the Kingdom of Falcon into retreating.

Reio clenched his fists. He was the strongest knight, yet he had been powerless to stop any of this.

"Find Darklord..." The words echoed in his mind. The real enemy was out there, lurking in the shadows.

And Richard? Richard was already ten steps ahead.

Reio stood motionless, his breath heavy, fists clenched. The echoes of Richard's words still rang in his mind. The weight of the situation bore down on him, and his rage had not yet subsided.

Richard, still recovering from his wounds, wiped the blood trickling down his lip. He stared at Reio with that same cold, calculated gaze.

"You think you've won?" Reio growled, stepping forward. "You think manipulating me, destroying the UnReal, and saving Valsheim makes you some sort of hero?"

Richard smirked, his voice eerily calm. "I don't need to be a hero. I just need to be right."

Reio's grip tightened around his sword. He was tempted to strike again, but a sudden voice stopped him.

"That's enough."

Elsa emerged from the shadows, her expression unreadable. Behind her, Raiden Orwellson stood with his arms crossed.

"Elsa," Reio said, his voice hesitant.

She shook her head. "We've been played. Richard knew exactly what he was doing. And now… now, Valsheim still stands."

Reio's eyes burned with frustration. "Then tell me, what do we do with him?"

Elsa turned to Richard. "You know too much. That makes you dangerous."

Richard chuckled. "Oh, I know. But that's why you won't get rid of me. Because without me, you're all just playing catch-up."

A tense silence followed. Raiden finally spoke. "I'll take him with me."

Reio snapped his head towards him. "You can't be serious."

Raiden nodded. "He's the only one who understands what's coming next. We need him."

Reio clenched his jaw, but Elsa had already made up her mind. "Fine. But he's under constant watch."

Richard simply smiled. "As expected."

And with that, the tides shifted once more. But in whose favor, no one could yet say.

After they both reached Raiden's home, Raiden leaned against the wooden table, his eyes fixed on Richard. "Why did you do that?" he finally asked, his voice carrying both curiosity and disbelief.

Richard smirked, his gaze unwavering. "You see, what I did was something no one knew... I acted as if I wanted The UnReal, but deep down, I knew it was fake. So, I played the role, made everyone believe I was after it, even manipulated Reio into thinking I was the villain."

Raiden narrowed his eyes. "But why?"

Richard crossed his arms, his voice calm yet sharp. "So that the black suit man would trust me. He thought I was on his side, which let me get close enough to take control of the situation. In the end, I caught him, saved Velsheim, and even tricked the Kingdom of Falcons into retreating. They saw the destruction and assumed the worst."

Raiden's mouth slightly opened, his mind struggling to process everything. "You... you planned all of this from the start?"

Richard nodded, his smirk never fading. "Everything was according to plan. Now, the real game begins."

Raiden exhaled, realizing the depth of Richard's cunning. He wasn't just powerful—he was dangerous in ways no one could predict.

Raiden's mouth slightly opened, his mind struggling to process everything. "You... you planned all of this from the start?"

Richard nodded, his smirk never fading. "Everything was according to plan. Now, the real game begins."

Raiden exhaled, realizing the depth of Richard's cunning. He wasn't just powerful—he was dangerous in ways no one could predict.

Richard then leaned forward, his expression darkening. "Now, let me tell you about the true enemy—Darklord."

Raiden furrowed his brows. "Darklord?"

Richard's voice was low, almost ominous. "Darklord is an eternal entity, a being beyond comprehension. He looks like a black devil, but he can shapeshift into anything. His intelligence is infinite, his powers have no limits, and no matter what level someone reaches, he surpasses them. He knows everything. He cannot be defeated."

Raiden felt a chill run down his spine. "Then how do we stop him?"

Richard's smirk returned, but this time, there was something different about it—something unsettling. "You don't stop him. You outplay him."

The journey to Ulzeimer began under the glow of a burning crimson sky, as Richard and Raiden set off from the secluded house where they had been resting. The path ahead was uncertain, yet neither seemed to care—Raiden walked with his usual confident stride, while Richard followed, hands tucked in his pockets, the faintest smirk playing on his lips.

"So tell me," Raiden started, glancing at Richard with a raised eyebrow. "What exactly do you hope to accomplish in Ulzeimer? Another elaborate plan to fool an entire kingdom?"

Richard scoffed. "You make it sound like it was easy. That was a once-in-a-lifetime performance, my friend."

Raiden let out a laugh. "A performance that nearly got you executed. If it weren't for me, you'd still be getting your insides rearranged by Reio."

Richard shot him a side glance. "Oh, and you saved me out of the kindness of your heart?"

"Of course! Unlike you, I have a moral compass."

Richard rolled his eyes. "Yeah, yeah. Keep talking, hero."

As they walked, the dirt path beneath them gradually gave way to cobblestone roads, and the surrounding wilderness began to fade into structured settlements. Small merchant stalls lined the streets, with vendors shouting prices and showcasing their wares. Richard and Raiden maneuvered through the bustling marketplace, dodging overly eager salesmen.

"Try this, sir! Freshly baked bread from the royal ovens!" one vendor called out.

Raiden gave a skeptical look. "Royal ovens? You mean burnt with extra taxes?"

Richard chuckled, taking a piece. "At least it's better than rations."

They continued their stroll, making their way toward the massive stone gates of Ulzeimer. The city was enormous, its ancient walls standing tall against the backdrop of distant mountains. A blend of old and new, it carried the scars of past wars and the ambition of present rulers.

As they approached, a group of guards stationed at the gate stepped forward.

"State your business in Ulzheimer," one of them demanded.

Raiden smirked, taking a step ahead. "Just two travelers, hoping to enjoy the city's hospitality."

The guard squinted. "Your weapons?"

Raiden raised his hands. "Only these two," he said, flexing his fingers.

Richard sighed and patted his coat. "I'm as harmless as a newborn lamb."

The guards exchanged glances, clearly not convinced, but ultimately waved them through.

Once inside, the overwhelming aroma of street food, burning incense, and damp stone filled their senses. The streets were lively, filled with travelers, merchants, and performers.

Raiden turned to Richard with a smirk. "So, what's your master plan this time? I assume you didn't drag me all the way here just for sightseeing."

Richard took a deep breath, gazing at the towering structures ahead. "Nope. I need to confirm something about the past of this world. If we find the right people, we might just learn how to deal with the Darklord."

Raiden snorted. "Deal with the Darklord? You make it sound so casual."

Richard shrugged. "If I don't act confident, who will?"

Raiden smirked. "Fair enough. Just don't get us killed."

Richard shot him a glance. "No promises."

Raiden and Richard ventured forward on their journey to the first capital of Velsheim, Ulzeimer. The road was long, the skies clear, and the air crisp. Raiden, with a nostalgic look in his eyes, suddenly stopped in his tracks.

"No way..." Raiden muttered, stepping closer to an old, dusty carriage covered in vines and rust. He wiped the dirt away and gasped. "It's my long-lost horse-drawn carriage!"

Richard raised an eyebrow. "This rusty old thing? Looks like it's been through more battles than Reio's mental state."

Raiden scoffed. "You wouldn't know class if it slapped you in the face with a golden gauntlet."

Richard smirked. "Oh yeah? Says the guy whose ride looks like it got rejected from a haunted house."

Ignoring him, Raiden hopped on, took the reins, and motioned for Richard to join. "Come on, let's ride in style!"

Richard hesitated. "I swear, if this thing falls apart mid-ride, I'm haunting you in the afterlife."

"Please, Richard," Raiden chuckled, "With your luck, you'd end up haunting yourself."

As they rode toward the main center of Ulzeimer, the roasting continued.

Raiden smirked. "Man, I can't believe someone like you is a so-called genius."

Richard shot back. "And I can't believe someone like you was trusted with a carriage. How many crashes before they took your license?"

"Unlike you, I actually know how to drive. You'd probably try steering a horse with a gaming controller."

Richard pretended to be deep in thought. "Huh. You know, I just realized something."

"What?"

"You're like this carriage: old, slow, and constantly breaking down."

Raiden laughed. "And you're like a broken compass: always acting like you know the way but leading everyone straight into disaster."

The two continued their banter as they approached the heart of Ulzeimer, where their real adventure would begin.

Raiden grinned as he grabbed the reins of his long-lost horse-drawn carriage. "Ain't she a beauty? Back in the day, this thing was the Ferrari of Velsheim."

Richard leaned back, arms crossed. "Ferrari? Bro, this rust bucket looks like it got rejected by medieval Uber. You sure it won't collapse mid-ride?"

Raiden scoffed. "Unlike your haircut, this thing has structure and class."

Richard smirked. "Oh, we're roasting now? Bet. Your drip is so non-existent, even NPCs won't spawn with your fit."

Raiden gasped, clutching his chest. "Bro, that's cold!" He shook his head. "But let's be real, if fashion crimes were punishable, you'd be serving five life sentences."

Richard leaned forward. "Yeah? Well, your carriage got the same energy as a Windows XP startup sound—hella outdated."

Raiden clicked his tongue. "Keep talking, but when this bad boy gets us to Ulzheimer without a hitch, I don't wanna hear a word from you."

Richard stretched his arms. "Alright, old-timer, drive this antique before I start walking. At this rate, I could run there faster than this thing moves."

Raiden flicked the reins, and the horses started trotting forward. "Pfft. We'll see who's laughing when you get thrown off by a pothole."

Richard smirked. "Bro, this ride got the same energy as a group project where only one dude is doing all the work. The horses out here carrying your entire personality."

Raiden gasped dramatically. "Nah, you did NOT just say that."

Richard shrugged. "I did. And what you gonna do about it? Cry?"

Raiden rolled his eyes. "Whatever, bro. Just sit back and enjoy the ride."

Richard leaned back with a smug grin. "Yeah, yeah. Just try not to steer us straight into poverty, Mr. Carriage Enthusiast."

Note: some content might be inappropriate for you, this content is only for mature people. Age doesn't matter, but what matters is the maturity.