Chapter 195: Demon Gate in Windspor

Corisande frowned slightly. Dagna was a Dwarf, yes, but as far as Corisande knew, she held absolutely no noble blood and had no political connection to King Baldric.

What business did someone like her have meeting privately with her King?

Dagna caught sight of Corisande, offered a curt nod, and hurried down the opposite end of the hall.

Corisande shook her head, dismissing the strange encounter. Her mind was already too burdened by the looming threat of the Demon Gate. She decided to think nothing of it and made her way to the courtyard.

The entire Heroes' Party—both the Main Party and the Support Party—was gathered outside the Bastion.

Waiting for them in the massive cobblestone courtyard was a sprawling, magnificent magic chariot. This one was slightly different from the one that had carried them to Neverglades.

It was made of lightweight, enchanted silver, drawn by four unicorns with golden manes.

Master Omares stood before the chariot, his hands tucked neatly into his pristine white sleeves, his blank eyes regarding the gathered Awakeners.

"You are deploying to the city of Windspor," Omares announced, his baritone voice effortlessly commanding the attention of all fifteen Heroes. "It lies in the province of the Sunstone Lands, within Valoris. A Demon Gate World has recently appeared there."

The party exchanged nervous glances.

"Because it is recent, it's the most suitable for you to challenge, you will have more time before the Gate breaks," Omares continued. "It has been classified as a C-Rank Gate."

Aethelstan, standing at the front of the group, let out a scoff. His chest puffed out, his bruised ego demanding a stage. "An ordinary C-Rank? The Heroes of Evernia are travelling to a province for a C-Rank Gate? I thought you said these were a threat, Great Scholar."

Omares's blank, white eyes locked onto the Prince. He didn't particularly look annoyed, but they could feel his anger in the air.

"Do not judge a Gate World by its rank, Prince Aethelstan," Omares warned. "A standard C-Rank Gate World is not the same as a C-Rank Demon Gate World. This we now know."

Omares took a single, slow step forward. Aethelstan instinctively took a half-step back.

"Need I remind you," Omares said coldly, "that no party, even from the top Guilds, has successfully cleared one of these Demon Gate Worlds yet? Over forty-five Awakeners have died trying. Only one man has survived and cleared one. And he did it alone."

Aethelstan's face flushed red, his jaw locking tight

.

"Since you claim that you are better than him," Omares said, gesturing elegantly to the silver doors of the chariot. "I have given you a chance. Now enter that chariot and prove it to me."

The absolute authority in Omares's voice crushed whatever retort Aethelstan had. For a moment of heavy, quiet tension, the Prince simply stood there, trembling with suppressed rage and fear.

Finally, he broke eye contact, turned on his heel, and marched silently into the chariot.

The rest of the party quickly filed in behind him.

Corisande hid her satisfied smile.

The journey to the Sunstone Lands was agonizingly quiet. Inside the spacious, velvet-lined interior of the chariot, the divide was palpable.

Aethelstan, Vadrian, and Stenya sat on one side, brooding and sharpening their weapons. Nessa, Corisande, Corvell, and Deron sat on the other, staring out the enchanted glass windows. Others clustered on which side they preferred.

As the unicorns pulled them across the sky, the grim, rocky terrain of the center lands gave way to absolute beauty.

The Sunstone Lands of Valoris lived up to their name. Below them, sprawling fields of vibrant, golden wheat swayed in the gentle breeze.

Crystal-clear rivers cut through lush, emerald-green forests, and the air bleeding through the chariot's vents smelled of fresh blooming jasmine and warm spring rain.

It was a place of profound peace, making the violent task ahead of them feel entirely out of place.

When the chariot finally touched down in the courtyard of Windspor's grand estate, they were met with an explosion of fanfare.

"Heroes! The Saviors of Evernia!"

Uunic, the Baron of Windspor, a stout, jovial man dripping in excessive gold jewelry and wearing a brightly colored silk tunic, rushed forward.

He threw his arms wide, his laughter echoing across the courtyard. Servants trailed behind him, throwing flower petals and blowing brass horns.

"Welcome to my beautiful city!" the Baron cheered, bowing deeply as Aethelstan stepped out of the chariot. "Oh, what an honor! We have prepared a feast for you, of course, and the finest wine in Valoris—"

"Save the wine, Baron Uunic," Aethelstan interrupted harshly, entirely uninterested in the man's lively welcome. "Just take us to the Gate."

The Baron's jovial smile faltered slightly, but he nodded quickly, his jewelry clinking. "Of course, Prince Aethelstan. Right this way. It is... well, it is ruining the vineyards."

The Baron and his guards led the heavily armed Party through the estate and out toward the rolling hills of the city's outskirts.

As they crested a small hill covered in beautiful, vibrant grapevines, the festive atmosphere of the province instantly died.

Hovering ominously in the center of the ruined vineyard was the Demon Gate. A Gamma Gate

The color was a poor blue with duller gray swirling within it. Black, viscous smoke bled from its edges, withering the grass and grapevines for fifty yards in every direction.

Aethelstan stared at the swirling blue vortex, his grip tightening on his hilt.

"Do you hesitate?"

He turned and realized Omares was referring to him. He looked back at the swirling Gamma Gate, swallowing in fear and suspense.

The chance to prove himself was right in front of him, but looking into the abyss, the Prince of the Human Kingdom felt a cold, paralyzing knot of pure terror twist in his gut.

Had he overestimated his preparation?

No. No. He couldn't accept that. Believing that was believing Percival Nightstar was better than him.

And he'll be damned if that ever was the case.