Ch.266266. Hanyang (1)

Hanyang. The capital of the Kingdom of Kore, and somehow a very familiar place to me…

“…This is it!”

“We’ve finally arrived!”

As if welcoming us after our journey of several days, the city seemed to radiate its massive presence in all directions.

This city, also called “Seoul” among the kingdom’s people, had enormous and magnificent walls built along its boundaries, as did all cities in this world.

The walls, with their structure impressively different from those of the Western Continent, were enchanted with a magic substance resembling ink. I couldn’t help but marvel at what kind of extraordinary mage could deploy magic of this scale without dimensional interference.

While walls made of ordinary stone naturally have limitations on the magic that can be imbued in them, the magical traces present in these walls were even more remarkable.

‘Enhanced durability, anti-magical properties, self-repair… and projectile defense. A textbook configuration.’

Typically, even just enhancing a wall’s durability or applying a similar single effect would be impressive, but the magic user who created these magical effects had imbued no less than four different spells.

In other words, they had installed magical power normally reserved for branch towers of magic academies across these vast walls. While perhaps not matching those of the ancient empire, these walls surely surpassed all others by a considerable margin.

Anyway, after briefly admiring the walls, I headed toward what appeared to be the gate of this walled city.

The gate resembled what we might associate with Sungnyemun or Gwanghwamun, yet it was exceptionally ornate and seemed designed with some magical purpose in mind.

“Let’s go, Sophie.”

“Yes.”

As we observed the many people lined up to enter and exit the city gate, we joined the queue, ignoring the curious or slightly surprised glances from those around us…

‘Oh, so that’s how they conduct inspections?’

As I always do, I sent my little scouts to reconnoiter, allowing me to learn about the inspection procedures at this gate.

It seemed to involve checking possessions, a body search, a few simple questions, and then a luggage inspection before completion.

Occasionally, they would discover something suspicious that had been hidden, confiscate it, and skillfully apprehend the person attempting to bring it in—suggesting they were quite competent at their job.

The fact that they didn’t accept bribes indicated either their salaries were quite stable, or the risks of accepting bribes far outweighed the meager compensation they might receive.

What particularly impressed me was that no separate passage fee needed to be paid at this main gate.

While we were exempt from passage fees anyway (being intermediate rank or higher), most cities in the Western Continent collected a kind of toll when entering or exiting through city gates.

This measure, applied regardless of whether one was a resident or not, was completely normal to us, but here they didn’t seem to require payment beyond perhaps filling out an entry register.

As we were watching the occasional disputes and incidents unfolding nearby like some reality show…

“Sophie, it’s our turn.”

“…Yes. Let’s go, Gregory.”

As we finally recognized it was our turn and entered the checkpoint at the city gate, the guards inside looked at us with rather unexpected gazes.

“Excuse me, visitors from afar. If it’s not too impolite, could you provide some means of identifying yourselves?”

“Here it is, soldier.”

And these gazes transformed the moment I pulled out my magic token from my breast pocket—

“We’ve been waiting for you, honored guests! The court official asked that when distinguished visitors such as yourselves arrived, you wait here until the attendant comes. So…”

She seemed to have received advance notice of our arrival along with our general descriptions, as she nervously recited what appeared to be memorized instructions while looking at me with tense eyes.

Of course, I don’t have the malicious hobby of tormenting troubled people.

“Of course. I’m happy to wait for a while.”

“Really? Thank you so much!”

Grateful that I complied without argument, she thanked me properly while gesturing to send soldiers somewhere or directing them to guide me.

And after waiting for some time…

“Thank you for your patience! I am Park Seung-pyeong, a royal eunuch serving His Majesty.”

The man in green official robes who introduced himself as Park Seung-pyeong skillfully guided us into the walled city.

Our destination was none other than the central multi-story tiled building that wasn’t particularly tall—appearing to be less than five stories high.

It was Daebokgung, where the king of this country resided.

※ ※ ※

And so, a short while after following the eunuch…

“That was exhausting…”

“…Indeed.”

The eunuch… surprisingly the Sangson, equivalent to the king’s chief secretary in modern terms, Park Seung-pyeong… Park Sangson, briefly explained to us the etiquette and precautions for meeting the king.

First, while foreigners would normally be expected to kneel and bow their heads before the solemn royal authority, given the circumstances, many of these “protocols” had been significantly abbreviated.

One reason was that if we two high-rankers caused trouble, we could potentially destroy all of Hanyang.

The other reason was that by the Kingdom of Kore’s standards, we were clearly heroes.

Thinking there was no reason to risk offending us with excessive formalities, he added that as long as we weren’t blatantly disrespectful and maintained reasonable courtesy and manners, there would be no issues.

Of course, from what he said, there had been some opposition (mainly from tactless sycophants), but such opinions could be easily suppressed with a few justifications.

For instance, we were formally invited guests, and it would be inappropriate to demand formalities from such guests.

Or, since we technically served King Louis VII, how could a vassal serve two monarchs?

Though somewhat forced, since the king himself had agreed to this, there was no room for counterargument.

Of course, some brainless fools might still object, but he assured us they would be appropriately restrained.

Beyond this, what he discussed was essentially the scenario or script for this royal audience.

If the king asks A, I answer B, then when minister C interjects with C, the king rebukes him with D, and so on.

As I admired this perfect and beautiful drama unfolding, I felt my energy draining while trying to memorize the narrative of this script.

The content followed the standard heroic formula: dialogue between monarch and hero, followed by the foolish remarks and misconduct of an unwise minister.

It was a play designed to elevate the authority and honor of both king and hero through their dialogue, while portraying a minister consumed by ugly and deeply personal emotions like jealousy.

While immersed in reading this, a thought occurred to me, which I posed directly to Park Sangson.

“Excuse me, this person here. He’s not a royalist, right?”

“That’s correct.”

“…Then, how is it possible to make him say what you want?”

“His Majesty can do it. Because he is the king.”

While I wondered how they could predict what others would say and incorporate it into the script, what dominated my thoughts even more was his overwhelming trust.

No, this seemed more like fanaticism.

Anyway, as we diligently memorized the script…

Finally, the time came, and we followed the Sangson to a place called Geunjeongcheon, where the country’s ministers had gathered.

This royal reception hall and meeting chamber was clearly designed to represent national authority with its splendor. On either side, numerous ministers attempted to assert their presence with varying degrees of gravitas.

But overshadowing all these attempts was the man in dragon-patterned royal robes, emanating a grand and majestic presence.

Seated on a magical jade throne was the monarch of this country, the Kingdom of Kore.