Evangeline blinked in surprise, her eyes widening at the firm expression on Damon's face. There was no trace of jest, no flicker of irony in his gaze. Just sheer, cold truth.
"Yo… you aren't… you're serious…"
Damon gave a slow nod, exhaling quietly.
"It can't be helped. Sadly, regardless of whose ego would be bruised, I can't take it off… I have to wear this. Always."
He rolled his shoulders with a faint shrug, then smirked faintly.
"On the upside, it actually feels quite comfy. I mean, sometimes I don't even remember it's on my head."
Evangeline glanced at the others, her worry deepening. This was going to be a problem. A commoner wearing a crown in the open? Nobles would never accept it—even if wearing it was the difference between sanity and madness. Let alone life or death.
Why should they care about the condition of a mere commoner?
Xander let out a long sigh, folding his arms.
"This is troublesome… Damon's not someone who'll just shut up and take it. Heads will fly if he gets pissed off, that I'm sure of."
Sylvia brought a hand to her chin, thoughtful.
"I was going to suggest using your armor's Sovereign Mantle form, but… that'd only make the crown more ostentatious."
Leona nodded hurriedly behind her. "Wait—what if we just gave him a hood? Or… tied a headband over his head?"
Xander nodded in agreement.
"It might work, but he can't wear a headband forever. Especially if we have to meet someone in upper nobility…"
Matia stood a few steps behind Damon, silent as always. Whether she chose silence or simply couldn't speak, he still wasn't sure. But the glow in her eyes said more than words ever could.
She was ready for violence.
Damon rubbed the side of his jaw thoughtfully.
"I've still got that one black fabric I used to use as a blindfold. I can wrap it around the Pale Crown so no one notices… Temporary fix. I'll buy a proper hood when we get to town."
He grinned at them, eyes glinting.
"Good thing those bandits had some change on them."
Xander shook his head, groaning.
"You do realize we don't actually need that money? Evangeline's the duchess of this region. Once she meets whoever's in charge of Gladstone, we can just use a teleportation gate to Lumos."
Damon raised an eyebrow. "And what does that have to do with leaving money behind?"
Evangeline sighed, anxiety beginning to coil in her gut as the walls of her homeland grew nearer.
"Your greed for material wealth is going to get you in trouble one of these days…"
Damon turned to the road ahead, the wind brushing through his hair as he looked out toward the horizon. The road was long, the city gates visible in the far distance.
"Well, come on then. Let's go."
He pulled out a length of black cloth, wrapping it firmly around the Pale Crown. It looked like a thick, tattered headband now, though the uneven bulges hinted at something hidden beneath.
Damon took off first, running lightly across the ground, his movements generating soft astral winds that stirred dust and loose petals. Whatever awaited in the city… he'd deal with it when it came.
He clutched a coin in his palm, whispering something faint into its cold surface, eyes closed. He didn't know if the person he sent it to could hear—there was no reply—but he whispered all the same.
---
Gladstone.
A frontier city nestled close to the treacherous Anarchy Mountains, its borders brushing against the Astranova dukedom and disputed territories. It was the last real outpost before the roads turned toward the ruins of Lysithara.
And those lands… had a legacy soaked in death. They were haunted, cursed, filled with legends of adventurers who vanished without a trace.
Damon narrowed his eyes.
"How the hell did Ashcroft pull it off? Did he fight the Keeper? And win?"
He shuddered. Ashcroft went to Lysithara and left.
He also fought the founder of the academy as well.
"If he really battled Athor and killed him… damn, that guy's legend has to be exaggerated."
Still, he wasn't trying to fight Ashcroft. At least not anytime soon.
So instead, he let himself enjoy the view as the walls of Gladstone came into full sight. There was some traffic by the gate, but nothing alarming. The gates stood open, wide and welcoming.
Knights stood vigilant, but unbothered. Their presence alone was deterrent enough—no one would cause trouble here unless they were truly suicidal.
Damon and his party stepped in with the crowd. Adventurers, merchants, peasants—people of all sorts flowed into the city. No one asked for documents.
Evangeline passed through the gate unnoticed.
Damon watched with curiosity. He had expected someone to recognize her, but of course… why would low-ranking gate guards know the face of a princess they'd never seen?
Especially in a crowd this size.
"The ruler of this land must be doing a good job," Damon murmured, taking in the city.
Children played in the streets, their laughter bright and uninhibited. They were well-fed, well-dressed. That alone said everything. Carriages moved smoothly on well-paved roads. Order was kept without fear.
"I gotta hand it to your father, Evangeline… he's quite the competent ruler."
She bit her lip.
"Did you think he wasn't?"
Damon smirked, placing a pitying palm on her shoulder.
"I imagine all nobles as the fat kind. Or the horny kind. Or both."
She slapped his hand away, cheeks puffed with frustration. She was already anxious, and his attitude wasn't helping.
"We're going to meet the one assigned to this region. A commander in the Golden Army."
Damon tilted his head slightly.
"A military man? Not a fat noble? No wonder this place is packed with troops."
Sylvia chimed in, interested. "Yes… They have several garrisons in the region. This is actually a fort city."
Damon exhaled, his eyes still roaming the buildings.
"Ahh, boy. I'd love to rule my own city someday… I'd double—no, triple the taxes. I'll be the rich, fat type of noble."
Leona giggled, her voice playful. "You'd be so squishy with a pot belly."
"Hehehe," Damon laughed. "I'd honor the noble traditions—steal people's wives and daughters for the night."
Evangeline finally had enough. He'd been whispering most of that right into her ear.
She shoved him away just in time to narrowly avoid a carriage thundering past.
"You are definitely not making it out of this duchy alive with that attitude…"
Before they could start bickering like children, Sylvia suddenly pointed to the side.
"Damon, look, look! A tavern! I wanna go in. Please? Let's go!"
She was practically bouncing on her toes, excitement bubbling like a child's.
Damon sighed, dragging a hand down his face.
"Sure… whatever." Searᴄh the NovelZone.fun website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.
He glanced one more time at the busy street, then followed Sylvia's lead.
He only hoped this tavern trip wouldn't turn into another incident.
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