The afternoon sun streamed golden through the leaves of the ancient oak trees in the gardens of the Von Haym estate, but Arthur Von Haym felt nothing but a chill. Not the chill of the weather, for it was a perfect spring day, but the lethal cold of a boredom that froze the soul.
He sat on a wrought-iron chair, slightly removed from the social center of the party, where the clinking of delicate teacups on their saucers and the hushed chatter of the nobility blended into a continuous hum, like the drone of a giant insect. His body was in a state of complete relaxation, his head tilted back, and his eyes half-closed, painting the perfect picture of a young noble exhausted by the burdens of life... or rather, the burdens of having nothing to do.
"Isn't that right, Lord Arthur?"
An enthusiastic voice pierced his feigned reverie. It was Lord Vincent, a portly young man nearly bursting with excitement inside his tight-fitting jacket, speaking passionately about something related to border fortifications.
Arthur forced his eyes to open slowly, revealing a yawn he barely managed to hide behind his hand. "Pardon, Vincent? I was enjoying the melody of the birds. Did you say something?"
Vincent's face reddened slightly, but his enthusiasm was too strong to be dampened by the dismissal. "I was saying that the new 'Deterrent Crystal' technology installed on the northern walls could be a game-changer! Can you imagine repelling a third-grade monster attack without a single soldier lost?"
Arthur took a slow sip of his now-cold tea. "Mmm. Wonderful." Then he added, his eyes wandering to the horizon, "Do you think they used fresh mint leaves in this tea? There's a distinct flavor I can't quite place."
The words froze in Vincent's mouth. He looked at Arthur, then at the teacup, then back to Arthur, confusion filling his eyes. It was like trying to discuss the art of war with a housecat.
From a distance, across the garden, Kyra Von Haym, his younger sister, watched the scene. Her fist tightened around the hilt of her training sword, which hung at her waist and which she insisted on wearing even to formal occasions. She sighed heavily, a puff of air escaping her lips in frustration. *Lazy. Indifferent. A wasted talent.* These were the words that circled her mind whenever she saw her brother. How could the person who had taught her the basics of swordsmanship in their childhood, who possessed a mind as sharp as a blade, have turned into this faded version of himself?
Arthur felt her piercing gaze on his back. He had mastered the art of ignoring it, but he knew his sister's patience was wearing thin. It was time to withdraw.
He straightened in his seat with deliberate slowness and placed his cup on the table. "Vincent, this has been a... stimulating conversation. But alas, I feel a sudden headache coming on. The sun must be quite strong today."
Without waiting for a reply, he gave a slight bow and retreated, walking with calm, measured steps toward the palace. It wasn't an escape, but a perfectly executed tactical maneuver.
The moment the cool shadows of the corridor leading to the library enveloped him, the transformation occurred.
The slouch vanished from his shoulders, and his back straightened like a spear. The fog cleared from his eyes, replaced by a sharp, focused gaze, like a hawk spotting its prey from a great height. His pace quickened, shifting from the leisurely stroll of a noble to the silent, efficient movement of a soldier.
He passed the vast library with its shelves stretching to the ceiling and headed directly to a back wall adorned with an intricate carving of the Von Haym family tree. He didn't pause to admire the names but pressed directly on a hidden wooden knot at the roots of the engraved tree. A section of the wall slid inward without a sound, revealing a narrow, dark passage.
Arthur stepped inside and closed the wall behind him, plunging into absolute silence and darkness. The scent of old books and leather vanished, replaced by the smell of cool, treated air and the faint scent of ozone that accompanies high-energy machinery.
He placed his palm on a smooth, cold surface on the wall. A series of faint blue lines lit up under his skin, scanning his print.
"User: Arthur Von Haym. Verified," a calm, synthetic female voice whispered in his ear. "Voice code required."
Arthur said in a clear, low voice, "There is no shelter for crows among eagles."
"Code accepted. Welcome back, 'Player'."
An elevator door that hadn't existed a second ago opened before him. It wasn't an ordinary elevator, but a circular platform surrounded by a void. The moment he stepped onto it, it began to descend with breathtaking, silent speed. Holographic data interfaces formed around him, flowing like blue waterfalls of numbers, symbols, and graphs. His eyes scanned them rapidly, absorbing information that ten men couldn't process in an hour.
The elevator slowed and then stopped, and the holographic walls opened to reveal Arthur's destination: "The Ship."
It wasn't a ship in the literal sense, but a vast, hemispherical command center that seemed to be carved into the rock miles beneath the palace. There was no furniture, only a central platform where Arthur stood. The entire wall was a panoramic screen displaying a glowing, three-dimensional map of the entire continent, pulsating with points of light and moving data streams. The view was majestic, terrifying, and strangely beautiful.
"Welcome back, Master Arthur," the calm, feminine voice echoed in the space, but this time it was fuller and deeper. "Four new low-level gates have been detected during your absence. There is no unusual activity requiring immediate intervention."
"Report, Orion," Arthur said, his voice taking on an authority and tone completely different from the bored young man at the tea party. "Show me the accumulated energy report for the gates in Sector 7."
A part of the giant map flashed and zoomed in to display a remote mountainous region. Complex graphs appeared, floating in the air beside it. "Mana flow is stable, within 0.3% of projections," Orion replied. "The probability of a sudden collapse is less than 0.01%."
Arthur began to work. His hands moved in the air with the grace of an orchestra conductor, manipulating the holographic interfaces. He pulled data, magnified maps, and rotated 3D models of previously detected monsters. His mind wasn't on tea or the weather, but on logistics, enemy tactics, and weaknesses in the kingdom's defenses that no one but him had noticed.
"Orion, run a simulation. What if a 'Shadow' class 'Gate Harbinger' appears in Sector 7? Use the attack data on 'Mist Valley' as a reference. I want to see the potential path of destruction and its impact on the supply lines to the capital."
"Processing," the calm voice replied. "Simulation will take seven minutes."
In those seven minutes, Arthur did not rest. He reviewed intelligence reports from across the kingdom, economic reports, and even intercepted conversations of nobles, encoded by their level of importance. He was looking for patterns, for hidden connections, for anything that might give him an edge in the grand game he was playing alone.
"Simulation complete," Orion announced.
Glowing red lines were displayed on the map, devouring villages and small forts on their way toward the major cities. "As I expected," Arthur muttered. "The official defenses will focus on the direct route, but the 'Shadow' will use the terrain to strike the rear supply lines. The capital will fall in three weeks due to starvation, not military force."
This was his real world. Not sunny gardens and dull jokes, but this digital chessboard where monsters and armies moved like pieces, and where every move was calculated, every decision could mean the difference between the kingdom's survival and its collapse.
Just as he was about to end the session and return to his mask, his eyes caught something. A tiny, insignificant data point on the edge of the map in a strategically unimportant area. An anomalous energy reading, but within the acceptable margin of error. Any other analyst would have ignored it.
But Arthur was not any other analyst.
He reached out his hand and magnified the point. It wasn't just a high reading; it was... pulsating. And irregular. Like a sick heart.
"Orion," he said slowly, his eyes narrowing.
"Yes, Master Arthur?"
"This reading... this pattern... it's different." He paused for a moment, his mind cycling through thousands of possibilities. "Allocate 0.5% of monitoring resources to this specific gate. I want a full spectral analysis every hour. Do not dismiss any deviation, no matter how small."
"An unusual order for a mere low-energy gate," Orion commented, not as an objection, but as an analytical observation. "Are you expecting something?"
Arthur looked at the pulsating point of light, which seemed like a faint ember in the vast darkness of the map. "I don't know," he answered honestly. "But in this game, there is no such thing as coincidence. Keep it under constant watch."
He nodded, then turned and returned to the elevator. It was time for the "Lazy Noble" to return to the surface, leaving the "Player" in the shadows, watching the world, and waiting for the next move in a game no one else knew he was playing.