Although he had only twelve soldiers, although the Cecil name had long since faded from the kingdom's political center, although the family's last remaining property in the royal capital had been reclaimed by the royal family one hundred years ago, Gawain still entered the city in the most conspicuous manner possible—and beneath the banner from seven hundred years ago.
That banner had only been permitted while Gawain Cecil was still alive. Raising it was less about declaring his presence than sending a message to the current Ansu Royal Family—
"The one entering the city is not that seventeen-year-old Viscount Cecil, but the Grand Duke of the Southern Territory."
Upon hearing the attendant's report, Francis II immediately understood the meaning conveyed by that "ancient man." The aged king walked onto the balcony of Silver Castle and gazed toward the direction from which the Cecil Family had entered the city.
From this distance, he could see nothing—the city had become far too large compared to back then, so large that even from Silver Castle's highest point, he could not see its boundaries. He wondered whether that ancient man, who had slept until now since seven hundred years ago, had been surprised upon setting foot in this city.
Would he realize that, after seven hundred years, everything was no longer as it had once been?
The attendant was still waiting nearby for his orders. Francis II withdrew his gaze and looked at the ordinary-looking middle-aged man. "Receive him according to the standards for a duke, then tell him that I will meet him at noon tomorrow. Ask the Grand Duke of the Southern Territory to rest in Silver Castle for a day and recover from the fatigue of the journey."
The attendant accepted the order, but before he could withdraw, Francis II stopped him again. "Also, aside from the meeting arrangements, satisfy every request Grand Duke Cecil makes as much as possible—there must be no lapse in etiquette."
The attendant left. A young man dressed in splendid clothes, with short pale-golden hair and strikingly handsome features, stepped forward from the side—he had been standing by a nearby pillar all along. "Father, do you believe that 'revived' grand duke is real?"
"That is not important," Francis II said, looking at his heirs. "Although Andrew sent that letter, and although we have obtained a great deal of corroborating evidence, whether that ancient grand duke is genuine will depend on what happens next. For now, all I can say is... this is indeed not a farce. That revived ancient man has given us a tremendous 'surprise.'"
The young man lowered his eyes, assuming a humble, inquisitive manner. "What do you think his purpose is?"
"Before we meet, every purpose can only be guessed at. Judging from the spectacle he created along the way and those rumors that were clearly being pushed by someone, he certainly will not reveal his intentions plainly in advance," the old king said, shaking his head. "You may find an opportunity to make contact and see what his attitude is, but mind your limits. We are facing an unprecedented situation. Do not provoke him."
The young man agreed and turned to leave the room.
Francis II turned around and continued looking toward the city, though he sighed faintly to himself.
Still too young. His heir was not yet skilled at concealing his true thoughts. He had shown too much interest in that ancient man who had fallen from the sky—or rather, crawled out of the ground—for Francis II not to see his urgency at a glance.
But it was not a major matter anyway. Rather than let him secretly make contact on his own, it was better to give him the opportunity openly.
After seeing the attendant ride away from the palace, Francis II nodded and said to the empty air beside him, "Dark Raven, go monitor Gawain Cecil and his party. Report anything unusual."
The moment the old king finished speaking, a curtain beneath a nearby colonnade swayed gently, yet no figure appeared.
"Also, do not get too close. If he truly is the legend from seven hundred years ago, any rash approach will certainly be noticed," the old king added.
The curtain beneath the colonnade remained perfectly still.
Gawain's party entered Saint Suniel City through its main gate and rode along the city's main avenue. Nearly half the city learned of their arrival, and before they reached Silver Castle, they encountered the welcoming party sent by the king.
The reception was lavish, its ceremony exceptionally grand. A red carpet had been laid from deep within Silver Castle all the way to Gawain's feet. Attendants and maids in formal dress scattered flower petals along the route, while trumpeters and drummers played music in two rows. All of this indicated that His Majesty the King had likely been preparing for more than a day—but Gawain could still tell that if he had entered the city differently, or arrived a day earlier, the form of this welcome would have been different.
Heaven knew how many contingency plans that king had prepared for this moment.
Although Gawain himself had no personal experience dealing with nobles or royalty, the memories in his mind held considerable relevant knowledge and experience. Gawain Cecil had come from the barbaric era at the founding of Ansu, but he had also lived through the glorious age of the Gondor Empire—he had not seen what Ansu was like seven hundred years later, but he knew what the Gondor Empire had been like seven hundred years ago.
That human empire, once at the height of its power seven hundred years ago, had been so complex that the nations of the continent today would not dare imagine it.
"Please follow me to Silver Castle. His Majesty has ordered the finest rooms and best meals to be prepared, along with hot spring water to ease the fatigue of all honored guests. The meeting has been arranged for noon tomorrow, so please rest well tonight."
A reception official with a composed bearing—some court noble whose surname Gawain did not know—stood before Gawain and spoke with impeccable courtesy. Gawain turned to glance at Rebecca beside him, only to find that the silly girl was staring around wide-eyed with curiosity.
Though she had tried hard to remain composed throughout the journey, before Silver Castle and amid this grand welcome ceremony, this young lady from the countryside had decisively been overwhelmed. Her eyes were no longer enough; she did not even know whether to look first at the neat, splendid honor guards or at the majestic palace in the distance, its entire outer wall covered in silver foil.
"I thought that king would be eager to see me," Gawain said with a shrug. He did not dismount, merely lowered his head to look at the reception official. "After all, it is not every day one gets to see someone who jumped out of a coffin."
The reception official froze slightly, likely not expecting the legendary grand duke to speak this way, but he quickly recovered. "His Majesty took into consideration the exhaustion of your journey and therefore arranged the meeting for tomorrow."
"Is that so..." Gawain deliberately paused for a long time, only continuing when the reception official was nearly breaking into a cold sweat. "Then I shall thank His Majesty for his kindness. However, since we will not be meeting today, there is no need for me to enter his castle—I am not used to staying in Silver Castle."
The reception official's expression changed slightly. "Then you..."
"It is more comfortable to stay in one's own home," Gawain said with a smile. "I just wonder whether Number 4 Crown Street has been demolished after seven hundred years."
Upon hearing the words Number 4 Crown Street, the reception official and several nearby court officials could not help but change expression slightly. Although Francis II had warned them, they truly had not expected Gawain's request to go in this direction.
That had been Gawain Cecil's residence in the royal capital seven hundred years ago.
Although Gawain Cecil had been the Grand Duke of the Southern Territory and spent most of his time in his southern fief, like the other pioneers of his era, he had also possessed a residence in the royal capital. It was an estate built by Founding Ancestor Charles I for every first-generation Expansion Knight, and all those estates stood on Crown Street—the district closest to Silver Castle.
Whenever the various pioneers traveled from their fiefs to the royal capital to discuss important affairs, they stayed in their own residences. That had been the rule in those days.
Now, seven hundred years later, all the pioneers had died, aside from a certain one who had just faked his own resurrection. Yet every estate on Crown Street remained as it had been back then, and the royal family had continued funding renovations and repairs throughout those seven hundred years to ensure they would endure forever.
They had effectively become living fossils. Yet these living fossils were still inhabited even now: the descendants of the pioneers were still alive, and they had inherited their ancestors' legacies.
Only the Cecil Family was an exception—ever since that exceptionally gifted Gruman Cecil had appeared, Number 4 Crown Street had been reclaimed by the royal family One Hundred Years Ago...
"Number 4 Crown Street..." the reception official stammered. "It is indeed still there, but it has been completely renovated many times..."
"Oh, naturally. It is only a residence, after all, not as sturdy as a castle," Gawain said with a laugh. "But since it has been renovated, that means it is well preserved now, yes? There should be no problem with me staying there, right?"
"Of course..." The reception official had intended to say that he needed to ask the king before making such a decision, but upon seeing Gawain's faintly smiling expression, he could not bring himself to say it. "But..."
"I know, it has been reclaimed by the royal family, correct?" Gawain did not intend to make a mere errand-runner's life too difficult, so he spoke first. "But I also heard that no one is living there now—in fact, no one has lived there for the past hundred years, right?"
"Yes. After all, the Founding Ancestor left behind... many things there. No one dared remove them, and even to this day, no one is qualified to inherit them. Thus, Number 4 Crown Street remains vacant."
Gawain continued smiling. "Since no one has inherited it, there should be no problem with me returning to my own home for one night, right?"
"Of course," the reception official said, recalling the king's attendant's instructions and having no choice but to nod. "Then please wait a moment, my lord. I will lead the way..."
"No need. I still remember the way to my own home." Gawain waved a hand. "Just go back and inform the king. Tell him I will visit him at Silver Castle on time tomorrow at noon."
He then turned his horse around. Before leaving, he patted Rebecca on the head. "Silly child, let's go."
Rebecca finally snapped back to attention. "Huh? Ancestor, we are not staying in the palace today?"
"What is so good about the palace? When it was being built, I told Charlie that the soil on the plot he chose was no good. In the third year after it was finished, the roof split open with a huge crack. Come on, I will take you to where I used to live. That is what a home should be like."
Watching Gawain's party leave on their own, the reception official finally felt the cold sweat that had been building on his forehead stream down. He then grabbed the person beside him. "Quick, send a druid who can turn into a bird! Go to Number 4 Crown Street and have them prepare at once!"
Before you continue