The kingdom's royalty let their afternoon tea linger into the evening, where it seamlessly transitioned into an impromptu banquet hosted by Queen Aurelia. The gathering stretched well past midnight before everyone finally turned in, with the others set to return to their territories the following day.
By morning, arrangements had been made for Seraphina to remain with Aurelia for the duration of their stay. Bastion, meanwhile, would take the girls to hunt in the capital's local dungeon to pass the time while they waited for the Central Empire's ambassador to arrive and finalize the details of the negotiation for the Rank 4 tortoise corpse in the Great Forest.
The dungeon in the capital was a Rank 3 dungeon, similar in nature to the Dungeon of Despair in the Diamondhart dukedom. Known as the Dungeon of Howling Winds, it was a harpy dungeon set within an expansive canyon, where harsh, unrelenting winds shaped both the terrain and the battles.
Like the other Rank 3 dungeons in the kingdom, it wasn't considered particularly great for leveling, as the presence of Rank 3 enemies was always accompanied by an army of lesser-ranked monsters. This trait made reaching Rank 3 within a reasonable timeframe significantly more difficult, though it was more than enough to allow them to reach Rank 2, which was the goal of this expedition.
"How was your stay with Lilia's parents?" Bastion asked Ariel as he, Ariel, Lilia, and Elyra lined up with the adventurers outside the dungeon entrance.
There were easily over a dozen adventurer parties waiting their turn to enter the dungeon, a situation made worse by the fact that it wasn't instance-based. This meant the interior would inevitably be crowded as well.
To avoid overcrowding once inside, a 10-minute interval was enforced between each party's entry. This allowed those ahead to gain some space and reduced the likelihood of waiting for enemies to spawn.
As for foul play within the dungeon, it could only be addressed once the offending party exited while carrying equipment that hadn't been registered upon entry. It wasn't a perfect system, but it did help reduce deaths from outright banditry, even if assassinations couldn't be prevented.
"It was nice," Ariel replied brightly. "They taught me so much about being an adventurer that it feels kind of silly to call myself one. They had so many stories of almost dying that it made me realize I had it easy because of your guns."
"What about the whole half-demihuman thing?"
"It was just me being sheltered," Ariel said, blushing. "I may have overthought the whole situation from the very beginning. Apparently, adventurers travel enough that they often find themselves in the minority in any town, village, or city, so they're hardly interested in caring about race or origin in general."
"That's good."
"What do you mean, 'that's good'?" Ariel huffed. "It was so embarrassing to hear them laughing at me over something so trivial."
"At least now you know, right?"
"I guess," she said, looking away with a blush.
Bastion smiled, appreciating that Ariel's feelings had been resolved. It reminded him of his own children's sudden emotional turmoil when they became teenagers, a time that felt like a lifetime ago.
In all honesty, he still missed his children, as their separation had been too abrupt. He remembered that he was supposed to have dinner with them a week after his divorce was finalized.
'Master?' Elyra asked through telepathy.
'Yes?'
'You seemed sad. Is something the matter?'
'Just old memories,' Bastion replied as he sent his memories to Elyra.
'Is this why you haven't decided to have children with Seraphina yet?'
As Bastion was about to answer, a commotion rose from the back of the line.
"Make way! Make way! Young Lord Ironhart is entering the dungeon!" a guard shouted, his voice cutting through the murmurs of the waiting adventurers.
"Hey! You can't just cut in like that!" someone called out, frustration clear in his tone.
"Shut up, lowly adventurer. You are in the presence of nobility!" a guard shouted back, flexing his aura along with a dozen others, revealing them all at Rank 1.
The line fell silent as the procession moved forward, the adventurers' glares following them all the way to the dungeon entrance.
Bastion turned to the commotion behind him and saw a young man in noble attire, flanked by a dozen Rank 1 guards. He looked too young to have attended the Royal Academy yet, likely between 18 and 20, gaining experience before finally enrolling.
A smug look spread across the young man's face as he enjoyed the privileges of nobility, though in reality, there was none. The kingdom had no authority over the Adventurers' Guild and, in fact, relied directly on it. The guild held rights granted by the empires to operate in any kingdom on the continent, regardless of what the owners, who were either Rank 4 beings or gods, thought, let alone the local rulers.
As their small procession was about to pass Bastion's spot in line, he turned in a large arc, shoving the guards aside with Reinforce active to stand directly in front of the young man. Bastion wore his full suit of armor with the helmet on to avoid causing a commotion, but since they were close to entering the dungeon anyway, he might as well reveal his identity and show the people of the kingdom that even nobility had to obey the rules.
The young man's smug grin faltered as he noticed a knight powerful enough to shove his guards aside wearing expensive looking enchanted armor blocking his path.
"W-what is this? Who—"
"Do you really think you can push your way through life just because you're nobility?" Bastion's deep voice rumbled through the helmet.
"Stop! Identify yourself!" the guards demanded as they began to unsheathe their weapons.
Instead of answering, Bastion removed his helmet, revealing long, translucent hair that sparkled like diamonds in the morning light. Immediately, everyone knew he was the young Duke of Diamondhart, a position he had assumed only a decade ago. Only he and his lineage had hair like that, as the Diamond Knight Class was an exclusive family heritage in the kingdom.
The young noble's eyes widened, his smug grin fading as he recognized Bastion from his lessons in nobility. He stepped back, his voice trembling.
"Y-Your Grace… Duke Diamondhart…"
The dozen guards paused, hands hovering near their weapons, before lowering them and bowing their heads in respect.
"Forgive us, Your Grace," they said together.
The adventurers nearby watched in awe, unfamiliar with Bastion's appearance but recognizing the name the young noble had used to address him. Immediately, they lowered their heads as well, instinctively showing respect to a true noble who could have them killed without cause.
It wasn't that nobility of Bastion's caliber had the right to kill anyone who slighted them that commanded respect. The Diamondharts, in particular, were feared because they employed Shadows, agents who could bypass the law entirely and eliminate targets without leaving any evidence. Almost every mysterious death in the dukedom was whispered to be their doing, yet none dared speak out. Even assassins avoided acting within Diamondhart territory, knowing that the Shadows were just as dangerous to them as to anyone else.
In truth, Bastion's family rarely resorted to assassination except when dealing with prominent criminals within their territory. Their operations were discreet, but the mystery of unsolvable deaths allowed rumors to grow and exaggerate their influence. The Diamondhart family never corrected these misconceptions, as their dukedom was the safest in the kingdom as a result.
By contrast, the Steelhart dukedom suffered the highest rates of banditry, thanks to the accessible southern mountain ranges that offered criminals easy hiding spots. The Phoenixhart dukedom, on the other hand, was dominated by volcanic mountains, making it largely inhospitable; bandits could only operate in plain sight, limiting their activity.
"Why do you believe you can push through the line just because you're a noble?" Bastion asked, uncaring for the attention.
"I… I didn't…" the young noble stammered before sighing and lowering his head. "I have no excuses, Your Grace."
Bastion placed a firm hand on the young man's shoulder and said quietly, "As nobles, we govern the people and ensure the prosperity of the kingdom. We are not their owners, nor do we have any right to disrespect them. Do you understand?"
"Yes… Your Grace."
"Next time this happens, I'll lodge a formal complaint to the Queen herself."
Bastion may be a duke, and the Ironhart family only viscounts, but they were ultimately under the royal family's authority, as they were stationed near the capital. He had no real right to punish them directly, beyond filing a complaint or making an accusation. However, given his relationship with the Queen, even a formal complaint would be enough for the Ironharts to be demoted or stripped of their title, since Aurelia, a former commoner, placed the people of the kingdom above all else.
"Understood, Your Grace."
"Good. Now, go to the back of the line and be respectful. After all, you could never be sure if you'd angered someone here who would gladly kill you for a slight and then flee the kingdom, never to be brought to justice. I doubt your family has the resources to place an empire-wide bounty on their heads."
Crimes had jurisdiction, and a criminal in one kingdom might not be considered an offender in another unless the kingdom where the crime was committed placed a justified bounty on their head. In that case, the Adventurers' Guild and other kingdoms were obliged to hunt them down if the empire approved it. It wasn't a perfect system, but it was the most realistic, as the continent was simply too vast to enforce stricter laws.
The young noble and his guards bowed deeply before retreating to the back of the line.
As they did so, the adventurers flashed their own auras, their threatening smiles making it clear to the young noble that they were all Rank 1 at minimum, with quite a few at Rank 2. Having heard Bastion's little threat, they decided to follow up on it, driving home a harsh lesson for the young noble.
He quivered, realizing for the first time that strength mattered more than titles. The guards remained silent as they escorted their charge, waiting patiently and ignoring the snickers from the surrounding adventurers.
Bastion and the girls, meanwhile, stood patiently, drawing admiration from those around them. They were clearly nobility, yet they showed respect by following the rules, even when enforcement was lax.
The line moved slowly but steadily until it was finally their turn. They passed through the dungeon's wide double doors and stepped into a collapsed mining shaft that served as a narrow entrance.
Once prepared, they emerged into a vast canyon, its jagged walls rising hundreds of feet above them, buffeted by harsh, unrelenting winds that cut through the rock formations. The air carried the distant cries of harpies, and the cliffs cast shadows that seemed to twist and writhe with every gust. Dust swirled around their feet, and the canyon floor was littered with broken stone and the remnants of long-abandoned mining equipment.
With a shared glance, Bastion and the girls readied themselves. Their goal was to reach level 200 to achieve Rank 2, and the Dungeon of Howling Winds promised the perfect challenge.
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