Mil did not take a carriage; instead, he rode a swift horse, reaching the capital city's gates in just one day.
Passing through the horseshoe arch, the 'Triumphal Avenue,' paved with lapis lazuli, stretched northward to the Imperial Palace, following the terrain, forming the backbone of the entire capital.
The friction of merchant caravan wheels, the roar of dwarven hammers, and the casual chatter of Orc porters crashed against the mottled city bricks, shattering into a cacophony of sound.
A bard leaning by the fountain plucked his lute, but the strings did not sing of epics; instead, they carried street slang and tavern tunes—after all, what heroes remained after the Holy War?
Legends from a thousand years ago were nothing more than scratches on antique gold coins.
Mil carefully searched his memories; it seemed he had indeed never visited the capital out of pique over Diana's matter.
However, strangely, ever since he entered the capital, people had been staring at him along the way…
It was like when he was in school and helped an old lady jaywalk, only to be posted on the campus network, causing people to whisper wherever he went—
“Look, it’s that guy!”
Mil felt a little uneasy from being stared at, as if his identity had been exposed, worried that the Royal Knights would apprehend him the next second.
There were still a few days until Otto’s funeral, at which point his adoptive father and Count grandfather would also arrive.
As his arrival was rather sudden, the servants at Laiyata Estate had not had time to prepare a room.
Only the 'relative' studying in the capital and Mil stared at each other.
“Good afternoon, Arthur?”
Arthur was around Mil’s age and was a vanguard apprentice at the Royal Guard Academy.
“Ah… Mil? Oh my god! I’m your idol!”
“What?”
“No, I mean, I’m your… admirer! I even bought your autographed scroll!”
“What autographed scroll?”
Mil was utterly bewildered by the enthusiastic Arthur…
With an excited smile, Arthur pulled out a parchment attached to a hard leather backing from his embrace.
It featured a hand-drawn profile of Mil, with Mil’s full name written in extremely elegant handwriting.
Below it was also marked, “NO.0003.”
Seeing this item, Mil felt his toes curling so hard they could dig out a full meal…
There was a soul-piercing ache, like someone scratching a blackboard with claws, recording the sound, and playing it on a loop next to his ear.
“You… where did you get this thing?”
“It was Alice…”
“Alright, I understand.”
Mil sighed deeply, rubbing his forehead, feeling a wave of exhaustion.
“This thing sells incredibly well here; we’ve sold over four thousand copies this month! It’s already been driven up to eight thousand Thalers per copy on the market! It’s quadrupled in price…”
“Am I that popular in the capital?”
“Oh my god! Don’t you think so? You are a God-Chosen Paladin! Not only did you break the Nightmare Curse laid by the King of Black Magic, capture two Undead generals alive, trigger two miracles, counter-kill an Undead Baron in desperation, complete a Level Seven Exorcism, and save the beautiful Princess Lilith…”
Mil fell silent; this shouldn't be his script…
If things continued like this, he couldn’t imagine how sharp the mocking laughter would be when they saw him on the stake three years later, once his identity was revealed.
But Arthur continued to ramble on:
“I heard that a few days ago, you also defeated the head of the Sea Serpent family, the Undead Serpent, and rescued the imprisoned Elven Queen!”
Seeing that Mil was not very interested in the topic, Arthur eventually stopped his monologue tactfully:
“Sorry, I got carried away… How come you arrived today? I thought you’d arrive in a couple of days and was planning to arrange a fan meeting for you!”
“No need for a fan meeting. I also decided to set off early on short notice. I’m going to the Imperial Palace first; we can talk more tonight when I return.”
Mil didn’t even bring luggage. He took off his heavy robe and prepared to leave.
“Mil! That… the atmosphere in the capital has been a bit tense recently, so please be a little careful!”
“Alright, thanks.”
Patting Arthur’s shoulder, Mil immediately mounted his horse and headed straight for the Imperial Palace.
The core area of the entire Royal Court was magically elevated by two hundred meters, while the city walls were nearly fifty meters high.
There was no moat around it; instead, there was a six-hundred-meter-wide, bottomless chasm.
Crossing the King’s Bridge, the sixty-meter city gate, equivalent to a 20-story building, bore some resemblance to the Arc de Triomphe.
The white gateposts on both sides were wider than the gate itself, adorned with bas-reliefs of angels, knights, eagles, and lions…
The inner side was carved with scriptures and poems.
Led by the Imperial Guards, Mil successfully entered the Imperial Palace and waited in the audience hall for over an hour before finally meeting the Emperor, Albert III… who was also Mil’s godfather.
Though over 50, he remained robust and agile, with deep-set eye sockets containing ice-blue eyes that held the sharp glint of a sword.
His silver-grey hair, beneath his crown, cascaded over a crimson cloak embroidered with a griffin crest. His facial muscles were somewhat slack, but his spine remained perfectly straight.
“Mil, long time no see.”
“Your Majesty, please accept my condolences.”
Mil rose and bowed, but the Emperor merely waved his hand casually. After sitting down, he sighed deeply:
“Otto’s throat was pierced, but the day he taught Diana how to wield a sword, he told her how to properly deal with an enemy’s weakness…”
A slash was indeed more stable than a thrust, but Mil’s swordsmanship was ultimately limited; he had done his best.
“Actually, I don’t want to believe it either, but…”
“Alright… Tell me again about the werewolf attack you all experienced that day.”
…
Mil recounted the entire incident from beginning to end, but he still omitted some details that shouldn't appear.
It proved that the Emperor still trusted Diana very much…
Seeing that the atmosphere had reached this point, Mil suddenly had an idea and proposed:
“Your Majesty, I have an immature idea…”
“Speak.”
“How about letting Diana find the truth herself?”
Mil was a little nervous saying this. The Emperor frowned and shook his head:
“Given the current situation, there’s no way I can release her.”
“No, I mean…”
Mil paused, pondering his words, but the Emperor suddenly understood his meaning, exhaling a long breath and nodding:
“Go… I will make arrangements at the prison. Let’s see if she has the ability. If she can find the true culprit, then let her return.”
“Yes.”
“If she can’t find him, tell her never to return.”
After bidding farewell to Albert III, Mil stood in the palace hall. Sunlight streamed through the circular dome, illuminating the giant angel sculpture in the center.
It appeared sacred and benevolent.
After so many events, Mil never expected things to go so smoothly, but he felt he should still respect the original work…
Thus, he immediately went to visit the Chief Royal Mage, Diana’s teacher—Volk.
This was the final step: let Volk rescue Diana, and when the time was right, have him die in front of Diana!
