Chapter 10 : Royal Tour

The corridor stretched out before them like a masterpiece pulsating with luxury; the walls were paneled in dark, authentic wood that exhaled an ancient, comforting aroma, filling the air.

Intersecting with it were intricate engravings and patterns that shimmered in pure white and gold.

Vain walked with measured steps, absorbing every detail around him, his eyes fixed on the back of the man leading the way. Or rather, on the pointed, upright ears that pierced through tufts of hair; it was Siphon, the elven mage and the head of the Court of Mages in the Kingdom of Lyth, who had personally taken it upon himself to guide Vain through the palace corridors.

As they continued, Vain noticed the grand corridor approaching its end, branching into two diverging paths: a wide stone staircase winding upward to the upper floors on the left, and another descending downward on the right.

Vain’s steps halted involuntarily, his gaze fixed on the lower path. It wasn't the palace itself that piqued his interest, but what lay beyond it.

His logical mind was running rapid calculations; since they were on a high floor, descending meant getting closer to the main gate, and the main gate meant one step closer to the capital.

As if he possessed eyes in the back of his head, Siphon turned slowly. The elf’s eyes met Vain’s gaze directed toward the lower stairs. A faint, somewhat mysterious smile played on the sorcerer’s lips, and with a smooth motion that completely defied Vain’s silent desire, he turned left and began ascending the stairs.

Vain frowned slightly, feeling a hidden weight in his chest. It seemed that leaving this place would be harder than he had imagined.

As they climbed the marble steps, Siphon turned his head partially and asked in a calm tone that broke the silence: "In any case, my young lord, what was it that you wished to ask of me?"

Vain was flustered for a moment, but he quickly regained his composure and replied honestly: "I want to go out and explore the capital. I asked Lord Karl beforehand, and he told me to bring the matter to you."

Siphon showed no signs of surprise, as if he had expected this request from the start. He replied in his cold, measured voice: "Hmm... I do not favor the idea of you going out at this time. Something might happen outside, or you might come to harm. However, since Lord Karl sent you to me regarding this, I shall see what I can do."

Despite the veiled refusal, Vain caught a glimmer of hope in the elf's words. They continued upward until they reached the next floor. The moment they stepped inside, the atmosphere changed drastically.

The royal tranquility vanished, replaced by an organized and vibrant clamor. A warm wave hit Vain’s face, carrying the scents of exotic spices and roasted meats. The floor was a vast, open space buzzing with the sounds of clashing ceramic plates and metal pans. Dozens of servants and chefs, clad in uniform, moved in every direction like a restless beehive.

Vain stood dazed, watching the rapid movement, until Siphon intervened to explain: "The wing where you woke up earlier is the Guest Wing. This, however, is the Culinary Wing. If you ever feel hungry, you can come here directly to eat without having to wait for formal meal times."

Vain followed Siphon through the passages adjacent to the kitchens, stealing glances from one room to another. He didn't know how to describe the feeling accurately, but he was fascinated by the perfect harmony among the workers—how they moved and communicated without colliding, as if they were a single entity.

After passing the cooking wing, they headed toward the left staircase once more. Along the way, Siphon began detailing the structure of the palace: "Every floor in this palace is dedicated to a precise purpose. We start from the bottom with the Reception floor, then Guesting, then the Kitchen we just left, followed by the Administration floor, then the Court of Mages, the Royal Wing, and finally the Rooftop at the peak."

Vain’s analytical mind caught the information immediately. So, the Reception floor was the closest to the outside, and it was only one floor away from the Guest Wing where he stayed.

Siphon read the boy’s thoughts with terrifying precision and cast his words like a cold blade: "I wouldn't advise trying to sneak out. The Reception floor is crawling with maids... like 'Kasey,' for instance."

Just mentioning that maid's name sent a cold shiver down Vain’s spine. He knew well that she was no ordinary servant. The thought of being caught by her while sneaking out promised trouble he could do without. He swallowed hard and decided to abandon his temporary escape plan; he had to leave through the main gates officially.

They ended up on the Administration floor. The contrast here was stark compared to the bustle of the kitchen. The place was submerged in a heavy, tomb-like silence, containing only a few rooms with no windows, making the lighting dim and limited to wall-mounted sconces. At the end of the corridor, a massive, ornate golden door stood out.

Siphon walked confidently toward the door and opened it slowly. Vain’s eyes widened as he saw a familiar face. There, in the middle of the room, sat a man with snow-white hair and faint wrinkles, wearing luxurious clothes but looking utterly exhausted. It was Lord Karl, though his fiancée was not with him this time. He was buried under mountains of papers and documents scattered across his wide desk.

Lord Karl lifted his head heavily, only to be surprised by Vain waving at him with a spontaneous, naive smile.

Siphon gave a simple, respectful bow: "Apologies for the intrusion, my lord. I decided to take the 'Dragon's Guest' on an exploratory tour rather than leaving it to the maid.”

Karl straightened in his seat and stood up, saying calmly: "No problem at all. So, Vain, have you enjoyed the tour so far?"

Vain replied with suppressed enthusiasm: "Yes! Every floor is completely different. It feels like moving between different worlds within a single building."

Karl let out a soft, tired but sincere laugh: "Then I am sure you will love the next floor even more. It is the most favored and distinguished one."

Vain remembered Siphon’s list; the next floor was the "Court of Mages." He suddenly turned to Karl and asked curiously: "By the way, what is Lord Karl doing here all alone?"

Siphon shot a quick glance at Karl, as if seeking permission. Karl nodded, and the elf explained: "Lord Karl is primarily responsible for all the internal transactions of the Kingdom of Lyth, which is why you find him busy all the time."

Vain’s eyes narrowed in surprise: "Isn't that a heavy burden to carry alone? Why is there no one to help you with all this?"

Surprise registered on both Siphon and Karl’s faces at the boy’s bluntness.

The Lord sighed and replied: "In fact, I do have someone who helps me, but I have sent them on a special mission. Thus, I am handling things alone for now. Besides, these documents are highly sensitive; I cannot allow just anyone to view them."

Vain realized the naivety of his question and rubbed the back of his head sheepishly. He had assumed, after seeing the organization of the kitchen, that all floors worked in large groups.

They bid the Lord farewell and returned to the corridor, heading for the stairs... where the Court of Mages awaited.

The two ascended, and Vain was anticipating the next wing with intense curiosity, until Siphon broke his focus with a hint of pride: "Well then, welcome to the Court of Mages. I don't mean to sound as if I am boasting, but this place is considered my true home in this palace."

They finally reached the fifth floor. From the first glance, the difference was staggering.

The wing was a labyrinth of towering wooden bookshelves and ancient volumes. Dozens of people were sprawled on the floor in strange positions or hunched over their seats in absolute concentration.

Vain was certain that despite walking through the middle of the hall, the vast majority hadn't even noticed their presence.

This was the first wing Vain saw carefully divided into facilities: an alchemy section with rising colored vapors, a practical experiments section, quiet study corners, and small discussion theaters.

Suddenly, a high, enthusiastic voice shattered the silence: "Hello, Master! Are you free? I want to try Level 3 Earth Magic!"

Vain startled, looking around, until the same voice spoke again, irritably: "You! This is annoying—I'm down here!"

Vain lowered his gaze. Standing before him was a small human girl with innocent, doll-like features, an annoyed expression, and messy yellow hair. Siphon smiled a sharp, thin smile and said: "Sophia, this is the Dragon's Guest. Please speak with respect."

The girl froze, recognizing the anger in Siphon’s tone. She bowed quickly and apologized. Vain gave a nervous laugh and said it was fine.

The little girl stood looking at Siphon, her eyes welling up with tears. Siphon approached her, patted her head, and said: "It's fine. Anyway, what did you want to show me?"

​The girl smiled with joy, knowing that Siphon was busy and rarely had time. Seizing the opportunity, she said: "I want tips on Earth Magic! I just learned a Level 3 spell! It took me 4 months to memorize and visualize the incantation."

​Siphon smiled, looked at the Dragon's Guest, and said: "What do you think, my young lord? Are you interested in seeing this little girl's magic?"

​Vain smiled: "Of course! I'm curious about the nature of magic too."

They headed to a massive, half-destroyed room in the experimental wing filled with students. Siphon explained that these were first-year orphans whom he looked after like a father.

Sophia stepped forward, pointing her staff. A brown gem on its tip began to glow. Vain noticed the ground around Sophia began to undulate slowly, like small lake ripples. Suddenly, sharp, small pillars erupted from the earth at a speed Vain could barely track.

​"Amazing..." Vain muttered aloud, his eyes widening at the speed of the attack's execution. Magic wasn't just dazzling lights as he had imagined; it was a lethal weapon capable of piercing a human body in a fraction of a second.

​Siphon chuckled lightly and said: "Sophia is very talented; mastering a Level 3 spell at her age is a rare occurrence. My current advice is that speed means nothing if the aim is wrong. Keep practicing your accuracy, for there is no rule stating that magic won't harm its user."

​Sophia nodded with intense enthusiasm, her eyes sparkling with pride at her master's praise, then she ran back toward her young classmates.

​Siphon turned to Vain with a calm look and continued: "I believe this dose of exploration is enough for today, my young lord, for night is already approaching. The Royal Wing and the Rooftop are not accessible except with prior permission, and you look exhausted and need to digest everything you have seen."

​Vain did indeed feel drained. The information he had gathered, the faces he had memorized, and the hidden tension that had accompanied him throughout the tour—it was all beginning to weigh heavily on his shoulders. He nodded in agreement and followed Siphon back the way they came, descending the stairs down to the Guest Wing.

​They descended through the floors one after the other until they finally reached the second floor, dedicated to guests, where Vain's room was located.

​When they arrived in front of his room's door, Siphon stopped and bowed slightly with respect: "Rest now. I will make sure one of the servants wakes you when it is time for dinner."

​"Thank you for the tour, Sir Siphon," Vain replied with a tired smile.

​The mage turned and left with silent steps that faded at the end of the candlelit corridor. Vain sighed deeply, placed his hand on the cold brass doorknob, and pushed it to enter.

​As soon as he stepped inside, he pushed the door behind him.

​Click.

​The sound of the wooden lock engaging echoed clearly in the quiet room.

​Vain leaned his back against the door for a moment, closing his eyes. Finally, some peace and quiet... he thought to himself.

The palace seemed safe, and the people he had met, despite their strangeness, did not seem like enemies.

​He opened his eyes and headed toward the plush bed to throw his body onto it, but his gaze fell upon a small table near the window.

There was an elegant silver tray holding a small glass pitcher filled with dark red juice that exuded the scent of fresh berries, and next to it was a clean glass.

​Vain swallowed hard.

The long tour and the tension had made his throat as dry as old firewood.

He didn't think twice; the palace was treating him as an honored guest, and it was only natural for the maids to provide some beverages. He grabbed the pitcher, poured a full glass, and downed it in one gulp.

​It tasted sweet, but with a very faint bitterness at the end that he assumed was just the nature of the fruit.

​He placed the glass on the table and turned to walk toward the bed.

​One step.

​Two steps.

​On the third step, the world began to spin.

​A burning sensation, as if a skewer of molten iron had pierced his stomach. Vain's eyes widened in shock, and a muffled rattle escaped his throat.

​He fell to his knees with his full weight, his hand slamming into the table in a desperate attempt to grab onto anything, causing the glass pitcher to fall and shatter on the floor, the red liquid splattering like a pool of blood.

​"What... is this..." he tried to speak, but hot blood rushed from his mouth, choking him.

​Zeel spoke up, breaking his silence in surprise: "Damn it, I didn't think they'd make a move this fast."

​The bitterness. It had been poison. A fast and lethal poison.

​His insides were tearing apart, and his lungs refused to take in air.

He collapsed face-first onto the plush carpet, writhing in a blind agony he had never experienced in his life. He couldn't even scream; it felt as though his tongue had melted from the sheer pain in his throat.

​His vision began to blacken. His eyes watered profusely. The pain reached its peak, then gradually began to fade, replaced by a deadly cold creeping into his limbs.

​With his eyes wide open to their limits, his heart beat one last, slow time, then stopped.

Absolute darkness. Total silence.

"***************"

In his final moment, he heard the same unfamiliar words from the unknown voice again, that familiar voice he had heard for the first time inside the room situated in the middle of the desolate ice.

Vain died.

……

Click.

Vain gasped violently, his eyes snapping open with a terrifying wideness as if he had just surfaced from underwater. He was breathing frantically, his chest heaving up and down, and his hands trembling severely.

He looked around in shock. He wasn't on the floor writhing in his blood. There was no shattered pitcher.

He was standing, his back leaning against the door of his room.

His right hand was still gripping the cold brass handle. The sound of the lock that had just engaged still echoed in his ears. The room was quiet, the sunset light filtering through the window, and on the table... the silver tray and the red pitcher sat peacefully.

He had returned... gone back in time to the few minutes right before his death.

Trembling and dripping with cold sweat, he muttered in a broken voice: "Z-Zeel."

Zeel's reply came in his usual, indifferent tone: "What is it, boy? Don't speak out loud, someone might hear you."

Vain didn't care about the warning; he had died just moments ago, writhing on the floor, his eyes shedding blood from the extreme toxicity of that drink he was staring directly at right now. He asked desperately: "Zeel! Tell me, do you suspect anyone we've met is trying to kill me?"

Zeel fell silent for a moment as if weighing his options, then answered with words that struck Vain like a thunderbolt: "Except for the Elf... everyone here is a suspect."

Vain had been certain that the primary suspect was "Siphon". Therefore, Zeel's answer was so shocking that it paralyzed his thinking for a moment.

He hadn't doubted Karl or his fiancée for a second, nor the maid Kasey, or even the chefs and children.

He had firmly believed the Elf was responsible, as the timing was perfect; he had forced him to walk for a long time without rest, making the presence of a cold pitcher of juice waiting in his room the moment he felt tired and thirsty seem like a well-laid trap of his making.

Zeel continued in a serious tone: "Anyway, I am currently certain that he is not an enemy to you. But the information we have is insufficient to clear the others."

Silence fell over the room, while Vain still felt the phantom, lethal fire tearing at his throat, as if he were still flailing on the floor from the intensity of the pain.

He dragged his steps toward the bed to rest his feet, for the sheer amount of tension and terror that had swept over him made him barely able to stand.

Vain sat on the comfortable sofa, grabbed the pitcher with a trembling hand, and removed its lid. He stared at the dark red liquid and asked: "Zeel, can you confirm whether this drink is actually poisoned?"

Zeel sighed and asked him to direct his gaze inward. Vain tilted his head to allow Zeel to see the contents of the pitcher clearly through his eyes.

Zeel was surprised, so much so that Vain heard him stutter slightly before replying: "It is indeed poisoned! And what's worse, it's 'Black Needle' poison. A single sip of it means certain death. Damn it, I didn't think anyone would make the decision to eliminate you this fast! I thought they would put you under surveillance for days or weeks before making any move."

Vain repeated involuntarily: "The Black Needle?"

Zeel answered him immediately: "Yes, it is a famous poison in the Southern Provinces. It has no smell and no color, and can be mixed with almost anything, but it spoils very quickly. Therefore, the idea of it being here in the capital is extremely strange."

Silence returned to occupy the place, and Vain sank into a whirlpool of violent thoughts. What should he do now after surviving certain death? Questions cascaded in his head like a torrent: "Should I go out? And if I do, won't the person who slipped the poison kill me themselves? Wait! Should I ask the Elf for help since Zeel trusts him? Or should I go to Lord Karl?"

He was on the verge of going mad trying to find a way out of this golden cage, until Zeel interrupted him with a highly serious tone: "I have an idea... although there is a possibility it might not work, and it might even turn against you, but it will at least guarantee that you find out the culprit's identity."

Vain was perplexed; he knew well that Zeel wasn't the type to suggest absurd ideas. He straightened his posture, carefully returned the pitcher to its place, and said in a firm tone: "I am listening.”