This bus was paradise on wheels.

  Arka leaned back deeply, letting his body be swallowed by the plush, reclining leather seat that smelled of expensive vanilla.

  Far different. Different level. Different caste.

  This was not the decrepit public bus that made him vomit in the Crownbelt gutter. Nor was it the diesel-stinking military iron monster that shook his insides down to his kidneys.

  This bus glided over the smooth asphalt as if its wheels never touched the ground. Its air suspension worked magic, dampening every shock into a gentle, lullaby-like sway. The AC was cold but not piercing, cool like the wind of the Alps (not the mountain of corpses he had just returned from).

  Insane... Arka thought blissfully. I should have ridden this from the start. If I knew this, I'd stay a soldier.

  He turned to the side.

  In the next seat, William sat with a posture that ruined this holiday atmosphere.

  The Blond sat rigid, arms crossed tightly over his chest. His eyes were shut tight, but not in sleep. His brows dipped sharply, forehead furrowed deep as if solving nuclear physics formulas or planning the invasion of a neighboring country. The aura around him was bleak, heavy, and far too serious.

  Arka noticed William’s forehead still bore a faint bruise from his handiwork yesterday. The wrinkle there deepened.

  Geez, this guy, Arka thought. Why make life hard.

  Arka nudged William’s arm gently.

  "Hehe bro, relax..." Arka whispered with a grin. "Stress causes baldness haha."

  The effect was instant.

  William’s eyes snapped open.

  He didn't turn slowly; his head swiveled sharply to stare at Arka. Those dark blue eyes glared with an intensity that could freeze boiling water. If looks could kill, Arka would be dust on this leather seat.

  "Silence," William hissed.

  "Whoa, so fierce," Arka wasn't afraid, just more mischievous. He pointed at William’s blond hair. "Pity for such nice hair to fall out young. You'll be the Bald Prince, girls will run away."

  William snorted roughly, lowering his arms from his chest with an annoyed movement.

  "Arka," his voice low, full of emphasis. "We just left the red zone. There was an anomaly at Gate 134. Intelligence reports missed. And you... you are worried about hair follicles?"

  "Yeah, because we left the red zone, that's why we chill, Bambang!" Arka replied lightly, snatching a peanut from his suit pocket. "Enemy's dead. Job done. Why overthink it?"

  "It's not 'job done'!" William snapped, tone rising slightly causing several passengers in front to turn. He lowered his voice again, leaning toward Arka. "It's an indication, Arka. Anukh-Ramj appeared prematurely. That means the Mirror Canyon seal is more fragile than predicted. We have to draft a strategy report, we have to—"

  "We have to sleep," Arka cut in fast, shoving a peanut into William’s mouth open in protest.

  "Mmph!" William choked, startled. He spat the peanut into a tissue with a face of disgust mixed with anger. "Where are your manners?!"

  "In the mountains, washed away by a flood," Arka answered randomly.

  "You really are barbaric. I can't believe you're from House Sagara," William scoffed, straightening his already neat shirt. "You're supposed to be a family of stoic, dignified temple guardians."

  "And you're supposed to be a calm noble, but you've been nagging like a landlady collecting rent," Arka shot back. "Seriously, Wil. Loosen your neck veins a bit. They'll snap."

  William massaged his temples, frustrated facing the wall of density named Arka.

  "Debating with you is more exhausting than fighting an enemy platoon," William muttered wearily.

  "Consider it mental training," Arka smirked, leaning back comfortably. "Just sleep. If there's another monster, I'll wake you. Probably just stomp it again anyway."

  William stared at Arka with disbelief, then shook his head in resignation. He crossed his arms again and looked out the window, though the corner of his eye was no longer as fierce.

  "Crazy bastard," William whispered.

  "I heard that," Arka replied without opening his eyes.

  William apparently had mouth stamina equal to his sword stamina.

  "...this is not a trivial matter, Arka. You must understand the logistical implications. If the Void leaks in the northern sector, it means the supply chain from Crownbelt will be cut within 24 hours. And you know what that means? Mass starvation, civil unrest, and the collapse of..."

  William’s voice flowed on. Steady. Firm. Boring as hell.

  Arka tried to listen. Swear, he tried.

  But the bus’s leather seat was too evil. Its thick foam hugged Arka’s back with manipulative softness. The headrest was so plush, seemingly whispering "forget the world" right behind his ears.

  Arka’s eyes began to feel heavy. His eyelids felt weighted by five-kilo lead pendulums.

  William’s voice slowly changed.

  From sounding like a nagging general, it gradually metamorphosed into static bee buzzing.

  This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

  Bzzt... bzzt... protocol... bzzt... strategy... bzzt...

  "...are you listening to me? Arka? Point three of the defense manual is..."

  Arka just nodded vaguely. His head bobbed forward slowly, then jerked awake slightly, then bobbed again.

  "Hm... yeah... point three... important..." Arka mumbled, tongue feeling thick and stiff.

  The world around him began to blur. The cool bus AC felt like a comfortable cold blanket. The gentle rocking of the air suspension felt like a giant baby swing.

  William still talked, his hands maybe gesturing graphs in the air, but in Arka’s eyes, the Blond was now just a blurry shadow moving in slow motion.

  So chatty... Wil... Arka thought, consciousness at one percent. Perfect for... bedtime stories...

  William’s words about "apocalypse" and "destruction" now sounded like the most peaceful poetry in the world.

  Arka’s head finally surrendered to gravity. Tilted sideways. Fell right onto William’s shoulder—or maybe the seat back, he didn't care anymore.

  Dark.

  Silent.

  Arka out cold.

  The bus stopped with a long hydraulic hiss.

  Psssshhhh...

  The gentle jolt of the final braking made Arka mumble incoherently.

  "Mmh... five more minutes, Gramps..."

  He shifted his leaning position which felt hard.

  Wait. Hard?

  Wasn't he leaning on William’s shoulder? Or a neck pillow? Why did it feel like cold window glass now?

  Arka opened his eyes slowly. Sticky. Heavy.

  The light greeting him wasn't the harsh white of midday sun, but a deep reddish-orange glow. Late afternoon light approaching dusk.

  His loading brain took a few seconds to realize the silence around him. Engine off. Other passengers gone.

  "Huh?"

  Arka straightened his back, neck cracking. He turned to the side.

  William was still asleep. His position was still sitting upright with arms crossed, but his head lolled sideways with mouth slightly open. His perfect noble image collapsed totally in sleep.

  Arka panicked. He shook the Blond’s shoulder roughly.

  "Oy! Wil! Wake up! Fire!"

  "HAH?! Defensive formation!"

  William jerked awake, eyes bulging wildly, hands reflexively grasping his waist for a sword that wasn't there.

  They both stuttered, staring at each other with stupid pillow faces.

  "Last station! Oy, get off! Want to sleep in the garage?!" shouted the bus driver from the front fiercely.

  "L-last station?" Arka stuttered.

  They both jumped up, snatched luggage (which Arka didn't actually have), and ran stumbling off the bus.

  Arka’s legs tingled badly, head dizzy from waking in shock. William tried to smooth his hair sticking up, but failed totally.

  They stepped onto cracked asphalt.

  The bus floored it immediately, leaving them in the dust.

  Arka massaged his forehead, trying to gather his life. He looked around.

  "Wil... this isn't the airport," Arka muttered. "This isn't the city terminal either."

  The air here was far colder than in the forest earlier. The wind carried a thick scent of sulfur and iron.

  They turned toward the North.

  And there Arka’s heart dropped to his stomach.

  "Fuck..."

  They were too far North. Far beyond the military airport pickup point.

  In the distance, splitting the bloody twilight horizon, stood a giant structure that seemed to absorb all surrounding light.

  BLACK KEEP.

  The Black Fortress.

  Obsidian walls hundreds of meters high stretched endlessly, separating the world of Carta from the Larrus Highlands beyond. Its watchtowers stabbed the sky like charred demon fingers.

  That was the last line of defense. The most dangerous place on the entire continent.

  Arka swallowed, then turned to William whose face was deathly pale seeing the fortress.

  "Wil," Arka called flatly. "I think we overshot to the end of the world."

  The North Wind hit him without warning.

  "DAMN—!"

  Arka choked on his own breath. The wind here had mass. It didn't feel like moving air, but like a transparent wall slamming the body at a hundred kilometers per hour. Heavy. Dense. And bone-piercing.

  Arka’s body, clad only in a thin shirt and tattered suit, shivered violently instantly. He was pushed back, legs unsteady, stumbling one step—tap—before managing to plant his military boot heels into the frozen ground for balance.

  "The cold is insane!" Arka cursed, pulling his wet and useless suit tighter. He looked sideways.

  William looked worse. His noble face was deathly pale, lips blue, eyes bulging in horror at the view before them.

  "Arka..." William’s voice trembled, whether from cold or pure fear. "Do you know where we are? Do you realize where we are?!"

  Arka looked up, following William’s gaze.

  He stood on a rocky plateau, an eagle’s vantage point watching its nest. And before him, lay a terrifying grandeur.

  The Northern Fortress of the Kingdom of Carta.

  The structure didn't look built by human hands, but carved directly from the spine of angry mountains.

  The main castle—The Black Keep—loomed massive in the middle of the valley. Built from rough volcanic black granite, the castle stood solid, absorbing the little afternoon light available, creating a giant silhouette intimidating the gray sky.

  "Huge..." Arka muttered, eyes narrowing against the snow wind. "Is that a house or a giant tomb?"

  "That's Headquarters!" William gripped Arka’s arm in panic. "That's Black Keep! The heart of Northern defense! We took the wrong route, Arka! We entered the red zone without permission! This is desertion! This is infiltration! We could be executed!"

  William paced in place, hands pulling his already messy blond hair.

  "Chill out, Wil..." Arka slapped William’s hand away, though his own teeth chattered from cold. "We just go in, say wrong bus. Done."

  "Done your head!" William was hysterical. "Look at that!"

  He pointed at sharp spires stabbing the clouds. On every roof corner, gargoyles shaped like wolves and snakes froze in sneering poses, as if ready to pounce on anyone approaching.

  And that wall... A giant stone wall fifty meters high snaked out like a black dragon, splitting the white snow landscape unbroken. Arka saw cannon slits. He saw strategic watchtower positions clearly aimed to kill.

  Okay, kinda scary, Arka admitted internally. But if I stay here, I die as a popsicle.

  "Let's go in," Arka urged, dragging William who was still muttering military law articles.

  They approached the main gate of Black Keep. The six-meter-high double doors made of black ironwood suddenly opened slowly, pulled from inside by invisible gear mechanisms.

  Whoosh...

  As soon as the door gap opened, the snow wind at Arka’s back collided with air from inside.

  Arka pushed William in, then jumped inside himself before the door closed again with a heavy thud cutting off the outside world.

  SLAM.

  Instantly, the deafening roar of the north wind vanished.

  The world changed completely.

  Arka blinked, eyes adapting. The ice hell out there was replaced by decadent warmth.

  "Whoa..."

  The temperature inside this Great Hall was perfectly regulated at 22 degrees Celsius. Arka’s frozen feet now felt warmth radiating up from black marble tiles polished like mirrors. Underfloor heating. High-tech.

  Arka took a deep breath.

  The air here didn't smell of storms or ozone. The air here smelled of... money.

  The scent of pure burning beeswax, sandalwood fragrance from furniture, and a faint touch of old wine. Arka looked around with mouth slightly open.

  Stone walls clad in intricately carved mahogany panels. Thick silk tapestries hung majestically. Overhead, a giant crystal chandelier refracted soft golden light, banishing every dark shadow.

  "Crazy..." Arka whispered, nudging William who stood frozen. "Is this an army base or a five-star hotel? So luxurious."

  William didn't answer. He was busy straightening his crumpled shirt collar with trembling hands, eyes staring in horror at the blood-red velvet carpet stretching before them.

  A neatly uniformed servant appeared from nowhere, bowing silently before the two of them—two vagrants just off a wrong bus.

  Arka stared at the servant, then at himself full of dry mud and black blood stains. Then he stared at the giant fireplace at the end of the room burning fiercely, surrounded by polar bear leather sofas and bottles of expensive liquor.

  Ironic, Arka thought, combing his wet messy hair back.

  Out there, monsters roamed and wind could kill you in minutes. But here, inside the belly of this stone monster, the high-ups lived in warm silk cocoons.

  "Wil," Arka whispered with a thin smirk, "I think we'll like it here. At least the food must be good."

  "Arka, shut your mouth," William hissed palely. "We look like trash just vomited by a sewer in the middle of a king's feast. Watch your attitude."