Journey to the Royal Capital 2

Despite having only twelve soldiers, despite the surname Cecil long being absent from the kingdom's political center, and despite the royal family having reclaimed the family's last property in the capital a hundred years ago, Gawain entered the city in the most conspicuous manner, flying the banner from seven hundred years ago.

That banner was only permitted for use during Gawain Cecil's lifetime. Displaying it was less about asserting his presence and more about sending a signal to the current Ansu Royal Family—

"It's not the seventeen-year-old Viscount Cecil entering the city, but the Grand Duke of the Southern Territory."

Upon hearing the report from his aide, Francis II immediately understood the message conveyed by the "ancient person." The aging king walked to the terrace of Silver Castle, gazing in the direction Cecil's party had entered the city.

From this distance, he couldn't see anything—the city had grown many times larger than it was back then, so large that even from the highest point of Silver Castle, its boundaries were not visible. He wondered if the ancient person, who had slumbered for seven hundred years, felt surprised upon entering the city.

Would he realize that after seven hundred years, everything was no longer as it used to be?

The aide still waited by his side for orders. Francis II withdrew his gaze and looked at the ordinary-looking middle-aged man, "Receive him according to the standards for receiving a Grand Duke, and then inform him that I will meet him tomorrow at noon. Please have the Grand Duke of the Southern Territory rest for a day within Silver Castle to alleviate his travel fatigue."

The aide acknowledged the order. But before he could withdraw, Francis II called out to him again, "Also, besides the meeting arrangements, try to fulfill all of Grand Duke Cecil's requests—there must be no slip-ups in etiquette."

The aide retreated. A young man with short, light-gold hair, handsome features, and dressed in fine clothes approached from the side—he had been standing by a nearby pillar earlier. "Father, do you believe the 'resurrected' Grand Duke is real?"

"That is not important," Francis II looked at his heir. "Although Andrew sent that letter, and although we have received much corroborating evidence, whether that ancient Grand Duke is truly real depends on future developments. As for now, I can only say... it is certainly not a farce. That resurrected ancient person has given us a great 'surprise'."

The young man lowered his eyelids, appearing eager to learn. "What do you think his intentions are?"

"Before meeting him, all intentions can only be guessed. Judging by the stir he created along the way and the rumors that were clearly instigated by someone, his style of conduct is such that he will definitely not reveal his intentions clearly in advance," the old king shook his head. "You can find an opportunity to interact with him and gauge his attitude, but be mindful of your limits. We are facing an unprecedented situation. Do not provoke him."

The young man promised and turned to leave the room.

Francis II, however, turned back and continued to look in the direction of the city, sighing inwardly.

He's still too young. My heir is not yet adept at hiding his true thoughts. He shows too much interest in that ancient person who descended from the heavens—or crawled out from the ground—making it obvious how eager he is at a glance.

But it's not a major issue. Rather than letting him secretly seek contact on his own, it's better to grant him this opportunity.

After seeing the aide ride away from the palace, Francis II nodded and spoke to the air beside him, "Dark Raven, go monitor Gawain Cecil and his party. Report any developments."

As soon as the old king finished speaking, a sheer curtain near the colonnade swayed gently, but no figure emerged.

"Also, do not get too close. If that is truly the legend from seven hundred years ago, approaching rashly will surely be discovered," the old king added.

The sheer curtain beneath the colonnade remained still.

Gawain's party entered through the main gate of Saint Suniel City, riding along the main avenue. Almost half the city knew about it. Before reaching Silver Castle, they encountered the welcoming party sent by the king.

The welcoming party was luxurious and grand. A red carpet was laid from the depths of Silver Castle to Gawain's feet. Dressed attendants scattered petals along the way, while trumpeters and drummers performed music in two columns. All of this indicated that His Majesty the King had likely prepared for more than just one day—but Gawain was certain that if he had entered the city differently, or arrived a day earlier, the welcoming ceremony would have been different.

Who knew how many contingency plans His Majesty the King had prepared for this moment.

Although Gawain himself had no experience interacting with nobles or royalty, his memories contained a wealth of related knowledge and experience. Gawain Cecil was from the barbaric era at the beginning of Ansu's founding, but he had also lived through the glorious years of the Gondor Empire. He could not see what Ansu was like seven hundred years later, but he knew what the Gondor Empire was like seven hundred years ago.

The human empire that flourished seven hundred years ago was so complex that the current continental nations could not even imagine.

"Please follow me to Silver Castle. His Majesty the King has ordered the most luxurious rooms and the best meals to be prepared, along with hot spring water to relieve your fatigue, honored guests. The meeting is scheduled for noon tomorrow, and you are welcome to rest well tonight."

A reception official with a calm demeanor—an inner court noble of some unknown surname—stood before Gawain and spoke politely. Gawain turned to look at Rebecca beside him, only to find the silly girl staring around with wide, curious eyes.

Despite her efforts to remain composed along the way, before Silver Castle, amidst the grand welcoming ceremony, this young lady from the countryside was utterly stunned. Her eyes could no longer take it all in; she didn't know whether to look at the neat and magnificent honor guards first, or at the majestic and imposing palace in the distance, its entire outer wall covered in silver foil.

"I thought the King would be eager to see me," Gawain shrugged, not dismounting. He looked down at the reception official. "After all, it's not every day someone pops out of a coffin."

The reception official was slightly taken aback, likely not expecting the legendary Grand Duke to speak this way. But he quickly recovered, "His Majesty considered that you must be weary from your journey, so he scheduled the meeting for tomorrow."

"Is that so..." Gawain paused deliberately for a long time. Just as the reception official was about to break out in a cold sweat, he continued, "Then I thank His Majesty for his kindness. However, since we are not meeting today, there is no need for me to enter his castle—I am not accustomed to living in Silver Castle."

The reception official's expression changed slightly. "Then you..."

"It's more comfortable to live in my own home," Gawain smiled. "I just wonder if Number 4 Crown Street has been demolished by you all after seven hundred years?"

Upon hearing the words "Number 4 Crown Street," the reception official and several nearby inner court officials involuntarily changed their expressions. Although Francis II had warned them, they truly hadn't expected Gawain's request to be in this direction!

That was Gawain Cecil's residence in the capital from seven hundred years ago.

Although Gawain Cecil was the Duke of the Southern Territory and spent most of his time on his southern fief, like other pioneers of that era, he had his own residence in the capital. These were the residences built by the founding monarch Charles I for every first-generation Expansion Knight, and they were located on Crown Street—the district closest to Silver Castle.

Whenever the various pioneers traveled from their fiefs to the capital to discuss important matters, they would reside in their own mansions. This was the rule back then.

Now, seven hundred years later, all the pioneers (except for the one who had just "resurrected") were dead. However, every mansion on Crown Street still maintained its appearance from that time. Moreover, the royal family had been funding continuous renovations and repairs over these seven hundred years to ensure their perpetual existence.

They had, in fact, become a kind of living fossil. Yet, these living fossils were still inhabited: the descendants of the pioneers from that time were still alive and had inherited their ancestors' legacies.

The Cecil family was the exception—ever since the exceptionally talented Grumman Cecil appeared, Number 4 Crown Street had been reclaimed by the royal family for a hundred years...

"Number 4 Crown Street..." the reception official said hesitantly. "It's still there, but it's been completely renovated many times..."

"Oh, that's for sure. After all, it's just a residence, not as sturdy as a castle," Gawain laughed. "But since it's been renovated, it means it's well-preserved now? I should be able to stay there, right?"

"Of course..." The reception official was about to say he needed to consult the king before making a decision, but after seeing Gawain's half-smile, he couldn't finish. "But..."

"I know, it's been reclaimed by the royal family, right?" Gawain didn't want to make it too difficult for someone who was just a messenger, so he said proactively, "But I also heard that no one is living there now—in fact, no one has lived there for the past hundred years?"

"Yes, because the former monarch left... many things there. No one dared to take them, and to this day, no one has been qualified to inherit them, so Number 4 Crown Street remains vacant."

Gawain continued to smile. "Since no one is inheriting it, then it should be alright for me to stay at my own home for a night, shouldn't it?"

"Of course, you can," the reception official remembered the king's aide's instructions and had to nod. "Then please wait a moment, sir. I will lead the way..."

"No need, I still remember the way to my home." Gawain waved his hand. "You can go back and tell the King that I will visit him at Silver Castle punctually tomorrow noon."

Then he turned his horse and, before leaving, patted Rebecca's head. "Silly girl, let's go."

Rebecca snapped back to reality. "Huh? Ancestor, aren't we staying at the palace today?"

"What's so great about the palace? When it was built, I told Charles that the soil he chose was poor, and the roof cracked wide open in the third year. Come, I'll take you to where I used to live. That's what a home should be like."

Watching Gawain's party leave on their own, the reception official felt the long-brewing cold sweat on his forehead finally trickle down. He then grabbed the person next to him, "Quick, send a Druid who can turn into a bird! Go to Number 4 Crown Street and have them prepare immediately!"