Karl returned to the grand hall, where the banquet still carried on under the warm golden lights. The music, the laughter, the clinking of glasses—yet his mind lingered on the image of the violinist from earlier. Molvar followed closely behind, snatching a glass of grape wine from a passing maid's tray.
"Are you sure that was someone you knew?" Molvar whispered, glancing sideways at Karl.
Karl shook his head slightly. "Not someone I know. But... something about him felt old, strange."
Footsteps echoed behind them. Sir Cedric approached with a courteous smile.
"Honored guests, Lord Albrecht Varnhold is awaiting you in the council chamber upstairs."
Karl nodded silently, his eyes narrowing with focus. He gestured for Molvar to follow. They ascended a marble staircase, walked through a crimson-carpeted corridor, and arrived at a large wooden door engraved with Solmere's crest—a double-winged eagle embracing the rising sun.
The door opened, revealing a softly lit room. At a large round table sat a silver-haired man, his gaze sharp yet calm. He rose as Karl entered.
"Welcome to Solmere," he said, his voice resonant but warm. "I am Albrecht Varnhold. And I've been waiting for you, Karl."
A strange silence settled over the council chamber. Karl stepped closer to the table, his eyes cautious and sharp. Molvar glanced around, clearly unsure how to behave in such a solemn atmosphere.
"Have we met before?" Karl asked, voice measured.
Lord Albrecht smiled—a smile full of subtle meaning.
"Not directly. But anyone who knows the true history of this land has heard your name," he replied. "The man who survived the Great War over two centuries ago. The one who bears the blood of the ageless."
Molvar nearly dropped his wine.
Karl frowned. "You know too much."
"It is my duty as the guardian of this region. Solmere is not just a stronghold—it's the gatekeeper of the eastern frontier of the Dawn Kingdom. I must know who passes through its threshold."
Karl was silent for a moment, then looked straight at Albrecht.
"So, did you summon me to ask about the past… or to speak of the future?"
Lord Albrecht stepped to the window, gazing out over the vast sea.
"Both. Do you think today's encounter with the sea creature was a coincidence? They've started to move. And if you truly are the man the old chronicles spoke of… then this kingdom might need you once more."
Karl didn't answer immediately. He followed Albrecht's gaze out toward the open sea. The waves still lapped gently against the shore, the breeze carried salt and the faint sound of a world in motion.
"I once fought for a kingdom… and watched it fall," Karl said slowly, his voice tinged with melancholy. "History doesn't record everything. But if this time it's for those who know nothing of what's coming… I'll consider it."
Albrecht nodded. He didn't press further.
Molvar let out a breath. "You really know how to keep people on edge," he muttered.
The Lord clapped his hands once, breaking the tension. "Tonight is the banquet. Forget war for now. Eat, rest, and let Solmere welcome you as heroes."
Karl gave a small nod, then followed Molvar as they were led out of the council chamber and toward the grand banquet hall.
Meanwhile, from a balcony above, a shadowed figure hidden behind a stone pillar watched Karl in silence.
Just as Karl and Molvar were about to leave the council steps, Lord Albrecht Varnhold raised a hand gently. His voice remained calm, yet carried an undeniable weight.
"Sir Cedric, I want you to give our honored guests a tour of the vital areas of the city. They should understand how Solmere is protected — and why I can still sleep soundly at night despite the chaos of the world beyond."
Sir Cedric bowed. "As you command, my Lord."
Karl and Molvar exchanged a look. Molvar shrugged and followed along, while Karl silently walked beside, eyes carefully observing every detail of the fortress.
They passed through the merchant quarters, the central square, and the western watchtower before arriving at a massive stone gate inscribed with strange ancient runes. Sir Cedric's tone turned stern:
"This place is called the 'Heart of the Sea.' It's a top-secret zone, guarded day and night. Inside lies the source of Solmere's protection — a force that shields us from attacks by the Sea Kings and other threats from the ocean depths."
Karl furrowed his brow, sensing a faint ripple of energy from behind the sealed door.
"There's magic here," he murmured.
Sir Cedric nodded. "Not all magic is pure… but it works."
Molvar licked his lips. "Can we have a look inside?"
Sir Cedric chuckled, but the sound lacked warmth. "No. Not even I may enter without the Lord's direct command."
Molvar crossed his arms and nodded, clearly intrigued. "So this is the most precious place in Solmere. No wonder it's so heavily guarded."
Sir Cedric gestured for them to walk back. "Exactly. Solmere draws strength not just from its walls or its army, but from secrets our enemies could never comprehend. Now, let us return to the grand hall. The Lord awaits."
As they walked back, Karl remained silent beside Molvar. His eyes occasionally glanced back at the stone gate, as if something about it still lingered in his thoughts.
Molvar asked softly, "Did you see something back there?"
Karl replied slowly, his tone heavy. "Not see... sense. There's an ancient magical force — powerful. It's not entirely… safe. Something is slumbering in there. And if it awakens…"
He didn't finish the sentence, only tightened his fist. Molvar swallowed hard.
"Right. Let's hope it stays asleep."
They returned to the grand hall just as the final rays of sunlight bathed Solmere's crimson-tiled roofs, signaling the start of the evening feast. Gentle music drifted from inside, mingling with the tantalizing aroma of noble delicacies.
Sir Cedric smiled. "It is time. The feast of Solmere begins."
The music grew livelier as the feast entered its most vibrant hour. Nobles laughed and chatted merrily, gowns sparkling as they twirled beneath the glow of crystal chandeliers. The aroma of roasted meats, rich wines, and exotic dishes filled the air like a triumphant symphony in honor of Solmere.
Karl and Molvar stood near a grand stone pillar, toasting with a few soldiers and curious guests. Then, a tall figure approached.
Lord Albrecht Varnhold — regal in his black cloak trimmed with gold, his silver-streaked hair neatly tied — smiled and raised a glass of wine toward Karl.
"Warrior from afar," he said, his voice deep and commanding, "raise a glass with me. I've heard of your clash with the Sea King. A feat that makes all of Solmere hold its head high."
Karl gave a respectful nod and clinked his glass. The wine shimmered dark red, like dragon's blood.
The lord took a sip, then leaned in slightly, lowering his voice. "Tomorrow morning, I wish to meet you in private at the Silver Tower. There are matters I need to discuss — and perhaps, you are the only one I can entrust."
He placed the glass on a nearby table and walked away, leaving behind a faint trace of mystery amidst the festive chatter.
Molvar glanced at Karl and muttered, "Another important meeting. Can't catch a break, can we?"
Karl chuckled softly, his eyes following the lord's retreating figure. "Peace... was never something I was meant to have."