chapter 11.5

As the sun dipped lower in the sky, casting elongated shadows over the ancient stone walls, Alcard remained still before the fortress gate, waiting in silence. The air around him buzzed with unspoken tension, as though his mere presence was an offense to the very foundation of this place. The guards stationed nearby kept their distance, eyeing him as if he were some unwelcome disease, a disturbance they wished to ignore but dared not dismiss.

Each second stretched endlessly, but Alcard showed no impatience. He had long grown accustomed to this treatment—the wary glances, the veiled hostility hidden beneath formal words, the quiet distrust that clung to every exchange. This was nothing new.

Finally, the creaking of the castle's heavy doors broke the silence. Footsteps approached, slow and measured, before an elderly man in a plain robe emerged, flanked by the same guard who had previously gone inside. The man's silvered hair and deeply etched wrinkles betrayed his years, yet his sharp gaze carried the weight of someone who had spent a lifetime observing the world with calculated precision.

He studied Alcard carefully, taking in every detail of his worn armor, his scarlet eyes, and the way he stood unmoving, unaffected by the hostility surrounding him. Then, at last, the man spoke—his tone curt and devoid of warmth.

"You are permitted to enter," he said simply.

But just as Alcard took his first step forward, the man raised a hand, his voice turning sharper.

"But understand this—an outcast like you is not welcome inside the main castle. Your presence here is already an insult to Lord Edmun. You will be taken to the back garden, where Lady Arwen awaits you."

Alcard remained expressionless, neither offended nor surprised. He simply gave a small nod, accepting the arrangement without argument. Of course, they wouldn't let someone like him be seen near nobility. He was not unexpected, yet he was to remain unseen, like a shadow forced to exist out of sight.

Without another word, he fell in step behind the older man, who walked ahead with a firm stride. The hallway they followed was long and eerily quiet, far removed from the castle's central halls, where nobles indulged in lavish feasts and whispered political games behind closed doors. This was a passage meant for the unwanted, a route designed to keep certain guests away from the public eye.

As they walked, the elderly man finally spoke again, his tone cold and clipped.

"Lord Edmun does not wish to see you. Do not expect any form of hospitality." He did not glance back, his steps never faltering. "But Lady Arwen… she insisted on choosing you for this mission. An outcast. It makes no sense."

Alcard remained silent.

Let him talk. Let him vent his disdain.

Words meant nothing to him.

But his thoughts were another matter.

Why had Lady Arwen chosen him?

Why go so far as to select someone who wasn't even allowed to step foot in the castle?

He had no answers. But he would find them soon enough.

They continued down the deserted hallways, passing through corridors that felt strangely abandoned, until the distant hum of music and laughter reached Alcard's ears.

The echo of clinking goblets, of aristocratic voices exchanging pleasantries over a grand feast, drifted faintly through the walls. For a brief moment, Alcard turned his head, catching glimpses of golden chandeliers illuminating the grand banquet hall, where nobles dined without a care for the world beyond their luxurious walls.

How many of them even remembered that The Wall existed?

How many of them knew that soldiers bled and died each day so they could continue drinking their expensive wine in blissful ignorance?

Not many.

Not that it mattered.

Finally, they reached a small wooden gate, tucked away at the rear of the castle. The elderly man stopped, pushing it open to reveal a breathtaking garden hidden behind the stone fortress.

Unlike the cold, gray castle, the garden was alive with color. Tall evergreens stood guard, their dark green foliage stretching toward the sky. Flower beds, blooming in hues of deep crimson and pale blue, lined the graceful stone pathways. In the center, a white gazebo stood elegantly, its carved pillars bathed in the golden hues of the setting sun.

Within it, a young woman sat, lost in the pages of a leather-bound book.

Her long blonde hair cascaded down her back, her silken dress simple yet impossibly refined, the fabric catching the evening light in a way that made her look like something out of a painting.

She didn't seem to notice them—or perhaps, she was simply pretending not to.

The elderly man gestured toward her, his hand steady despite the slight tremble in his fingers.

"There. Lady Arwen is waiting for you. And remember," he added, his voice sharp with warning, "do not cause any trouble."

Alcard merely nodded, stepping forward without another word.

His movements were silent, but somehow, Lady Arwen sensed his presence before he had even reached her.

Without lifting her gaze from her book, she spoke—a voice soft, yet carrying a quiet authority.

"You must be the escort sent by The Wall."

Alcard halted just a few steps away from the gazebo, offering a brief bow.

"Yes, Lady Arwen. I am Alcard, an outcast of The Wall. I have been assigned to escort you back to Edenvila."

Only then did Lady Arwen finally close her book, lifting her gaze to meet his.

Her sharp blue eyes studied him carefully, taking in the battle-worn armor, the sword at his hip, the countless scars that lined his hands.

Then, she smiled—a small, knowing smile, as if she had just confirmed something she had long suspected.

"Fascinating," she murmured. "An outcast, sworn to The Wall. I've always wondered… what it must be like to serve as the protector of something the world has already forgotten."

Alcard remained silent, his face unreadable.

But inwardly, his mind raced.

She's different.

She doesn't speak like the others.

She understands more than she lets on. But how much does she truly know?

For a moment, neither of them spoke.

Then, Lady Arwen rose gracefully, closing the distance between them with measured steps.

Holding her book firmly in one hand, she finally spoke with a quiet certainty.

"Very well, Sir Alcard. It seems this journey will be a long one… and full of revelations."

Alcard inclined his head, stepping aside as she began walking.

"As you wish, Lady Arwen."

As the evening sky darkened, the air grew cooler, carrying with it the whisper of the unknown.

And Alcard realized something—this was no ordinary escort mission.

This was the beginning of something far greater.

Something that could change everything.

****