Chapter 27: Special Day [3]
I followed Hans everywhere—from the knight’s sparring field, where steel clashed like thunder, to the horse barracks, where the smell of hay, sweat, and manure blended into something I’d rather forget.
We didn’t stop there.
Next was the armory, then the laundry quarters, then the kitchen—each place bustling with people who gave me curious or pitying looks. Some whispered when they thought I couldn’t hear. Others just smirked like they knew what kind of hell I was about to step into.
Hans didn’t slow down once.
"Servants are expected to know the entire estate. Not just the rooms the nobles use, but the paths, the routines, even the moods of the staff. If you’re sharp, you’ll learn faster. If you’re not—well, you’ll learn harder."
I wanted to respond with something witty, but all my brain could manage was nodding. My legs were sore, and I wasn’t even sure what half the places we passed were for. At one point, we walked past a low stone shed, and Hans casually pointed toward it.
"Don’t open that door unless you’re told to."
"Why?" I asked, glancing back.
"The last guy who did didn’t sleep for three days."
"...Noted."
Meanwhile, I kept pestering Hans about this so-called "special day," but he ignored every single question like I was just background noise. All I got were vague grunts and the same line: "Just follow me."
So I did.
We wound through half the estate—down polished halls, across stone bridges that overlooked frozen gardens, and into older parts of the manor that felt colder and quieter. Eventually, we stopped in front of an arched gate carved into dark granite.
It pulsed faintly with complex sealing magic.
Even someone like me—who wasn’t a full-fledged mage—could tell this wasn’t some decorative enchantment. It meant something.
Hans stopped, brushing snow off his shoulder.
"This is a venerable place," he said. "Only members of the ducal family or those they acknowledge are permitted to enter."
"...Oh."
My eyes traced the sigils. Faint silver patterns ran along the stone, shifting like fog behind glass.
’So this is it,’ I thought.
A relic vault. A hidden trove passed down through noble lines. Almost every noble family had one—filled with heirlooms, ancient weapons, cursed junk, and artifacts so old no one remembered what they did anymore.
In the game, this place only unlocked after the protagonist saved the North. The ducal family, grateful beyond words, let them pick whatever relic they wanted.
And now... here I was.
Before I could admire it any longer, Hans suddenly turned, his sharp eyes locking on mine.
"As someone from the West, let me give you a warning," he said, his voice low and deliberate.
Then his tone dropped even colder.
"If even one item goes missing... even one, the entire North will know exactly who to blame."
I blinked. "What?"
He leaned in slightly.
"Don’t even dream of pocketing anything."
I raised my hands instinctively. "Hey, I wasn’t planning on touching anything! Honest!"
"Good," he said curtly, before turning back to the gate.
Then he laid his hand on the seal.
With a deep hum and a flicker of light, the gate slowly opened. A gust of cold, dry air swept past us, thick with the scent of age—dust, steel, and something faintly magical.
The room beyond wasn’t grand. It looked more like a crypt than a treasure hall. Shelves and stone pedestals lined the walls, each holding something ancient and wrapped in layers of cloth or stored in enchanted glass.
My heart picked up as we stepped inside.
Weapons. Tomes. Trinkets. A few things even shimmered with faint, eerie light.
"Whoa..."
"Keep your mouth closed. You’re not here to gawk," Hans said, already walking ahead.
I followed—carefully, like one wrong breath would set off a hundred alarms.
Hans moved with the precision of someone who’d walked these halls hundreds of times.
I, on the other hand, was trying not to trip over my own feet while keeping my eyes from darting too eagerly at every glittering artifact we passed.
There were swords—dozens of them—mounted on stone plinths or sealed behind reinforced glass. Most were ancient northern blades, some with runes faintly glowing along the hilt or edge. One looked like it was forged from obsidian and still dripped black mist.
Tomes bound in monster hide, lockboxes with chains enchanted to wriggle like snakes, armor that looked ceremonial... until you noticed the dried blood staining the inside.
"Each item in this vault has a history," Hans said, stopping in front of a narrow table. "Some saved kingdoms. Others nearly destroyed them."
He gestured to a long, cloth-covered object on the table.
I squinted. "So... why are you showing me all this?"
"Because your ’special day’ begins now," he said simply.
My brow furrowed. "I still don’t get it. What’s special about today?"
Hans looked at me, then rolled his eyes like I was being particularly dense.
"For now, Pickup that armour from there."
He pointed towards armour stand.
I simply didn’t what I was told. It’s not like I can’t say ’No’ to him.
"It’s very light."
Indeed the armour was very light.
Hans just nodded his head.
"Of course it is. It’s especially made for Lady Alice."
Now I understand why she was so fast when we fought before.
When she was still pretending to be Aleck.
But I didn’t say anything, I quitely followed after Hans as he leads me towards the third floor of the east wing, past the warded hall.
On the way, I couldn’t see any servenor any knights.
It was purely empty area.
"Where are we going?" I couldn’t help but asked.
Hans glanced at me and said, " We are going to Lady Alice room"
I nearly tripped over my own boots.
"Wait, what?"
Hans didn’t stop walking. "You heard me."
"But... why are we going to her room? Shouldn’t I—I don’t know—wait outside? Or send a message? Or not go there at all?"
He gave me a flat look over his shoulder. "You’re her personal attendant now. That means you’ll be preparing her gear, managing her schedule, and sometimes, yes, entering her chambers."