Novel Full Chapter 275: The Name That Commands Silence!
Chapter 275: The Name That Commands Silence!
The royal carriage moved deeper into the city.
The streets here were different.
Snow was still present, but it was thinner, cleared regularly, swept aside with care. The stone beneath was darker, smoother, etched with faint mana channels that pulsed quietly beneath the surface. Buildings rose taller, broader, their designs severe and symmetrical, more fortress than home.
The rider sat straighter now.
He glanced back once, then again, clearly aware that this was no ordinary fare. Anyone summoned to the Empress’s palace was a person of consequence. That much was obvious.
After a moment, he cleared his throat.
“So… sirs,” he began cautiously, voice respectful, “is this your first time visiting the Royal Palace?”
Silence.
Bruce’s gaze remained fixed ahead, posture relaxed but alert. Duke sat beside him, hands folded neatly, expression unreadable beneath the brim of his cap.
The rider waited.
’Nothing.’
“…I’ve only been this far a handful of times,” he tried again after a few minutes, attempting a nervous chuckle. “Usually when escorting officials or high-ranked Royal Guild members.”
’Still nothing.’
The rider swallowed, nodding to himself.
“Right,” he muttered softly. “Of course.”
He faced forward again, tightening his grip on the reins and focusing on the road. Snow crunched beneath the hooves of the beasts pulling the carriage, the sound echoing faintly between stone walls.
’Best not to pry,’ he thought.
Time passed and it didn’t take long…
Ahead, the silhouette of the palace began to emerge.
It wasn’t merely large, it was dominant.
High black walls rose like a mountain range, layered and reinforced, crowned with watchtowers bristling with ballistae and mana cannons. Banners bearing the royal crest snapped sharply in the cold wind. The closer they drew, the heavier the air became, as if the palace itself rejected the unworthy.
The rider’s breathing grew more measured.
Inside the palace.
The Head Guard paused mid-step.
A seasoned man, his armor bore scars old enough to tell stories of wars long past. His senses flared without warning, mana rippling instinctively as he turned his head toward the city gates.
’That pressure. S-Ranked Suppression…’ His eyes narrowed. ’…That presence.’
Memories stirred, of a man years ago, standing before the palace gates with the same unyielding aura. A man who had forced the Adventurer Guild into existence within Eiskar, not with armies, but with will.
’Duke.’
The name ringed in the head guards mind… He gritted his teeth, ’I have to handle this well…’
’The fact there’s another pressure with Duke’s own… Could that person be SSS-Ranked too?’
The Head Guard straightened slowly.
“Positions,” he ordered quietly.
At once, palace guards shifted, movements crisp and disciplined. No panic. No raised voices. Just readiness, trained, drilled, absolute.
Outside, the carriage rolled to a stop before the palace gate.
The gates themselves were colossal, taller than any wall Bruce had seen so far, their surfaces etched with ancient sigils that radiated suppression. Guards lined the entrance in perfect formation, eyes forward, weapons held at rest but ready.
The rider dismounted quickly, head lowered, voice barely above a whisper as he announced their arrival.
The atmosphere was suffocating. Every guard present could feel it now. That pressure.
And somewhere within the palace, the Empress of Eiskar sat upon her throne, could also sense it, aware that a long-forgotten name was about to return to her gates.
Under the Head Guard’s signal, the palace guards moved as one.
Steel rang softly through the courtyard as formations snapped into place with drilled precision. Daggers angled low and ready. Lances leveled in unison. Spears locked forward. Swords slid halfway from their sheaths, cold edges catching the pale light as they aligned toward a single point, the carriage Bruce and Duke had arrived in. The sound faded, but the intent remained, sharp and lethal.
Their faces were stern. Focused. Unflinching. The air itself felt heavier, compressed by discipline and intent.
It was unclear how any of them were even able to stand beneath the S-Ranked pressure that lingered in the courtyard, but the answer was simple enough.
Bruce and Duke weren’t pushing.
’Not yet.’
Behind them, the rider froze. His breath caught in his throat as he stared at the scene unfolding before him, eyes wide, fingers trembling slightly as they clenched the reins. He had ferried officials before, high-ranking ones, even members of the Royal Guild, but this was different. This wasn’t ceremony or protocol. This was the posture reserved for enemies of the state.
’Why are the Express guards reacting like this…?’ the thought screamed in his mind as cold sweat slid down his spine.
Duke calmly stepped down from the carriage.
Bruce followed a half-step behind, posture relaxed, eyes steady, as if the ring of weapons aimed at them was nothing more than background scenery. No tension. No hesitation. Just quiet awareness.
Duke took a single step forward. Then, he released his pressure. Just a little.
The effect was immediate. The air rippled as an invisible weight spread outward in a controlled wave, precise and deliberate. Snow at the edges of the courtyard shuddered, sliding softly across stone. Mana etched into the palace grounds flared faintly, reacting on instinct to a presence far beyond what it had been designed to restrain.
In that moment, Duke no longer felt like the eccentric Traveler.
He stood straighter now. Still casual. Still composed. But something ancient and overwhelming settled into his presence, pressing down on the space itself. His gaze lifted and locked onto the gray-haired man at the front of the formation, the Head Guard.
“Orrin,” Duke said calmly, one hand resting loosely at his side. “I see you’ve risen through the ranks.”
Orrin’s body stiffened as the pressure focused on him alone. Not crushing, but unmistakable.
His teeth clenched. Veins stood out along his temples as he fought to keep his posture intact, boots scraping faintly against stone. “…Duke,” he forced out through gritted teeth.
Duke tilted his head slightly, as though inspecting an old acquaintance.
“What about Isolde?” he continued, tone casual to the point of irreverence. “Tell her her friend is here.”
Orrin’s eyes burned.
’How dare he say Her Majesty’s name so casually…’
Rage flared, then vanished beneath instinct honed by years of survival. He raised his hand sharply.
“Stand down.”