Level 2: Axel

HP: [█░░░░░░░░░░] 07/110 (!)

Mana: [░░░░░░░░░░] -1/100

Stamina: [█░░░░░░░░░░] 05/120 (!)

Options: [Inv | Skills | Quests]

Every street brought a new confrontation, another guard halting me with a raised hand. Each time, I fumbled for the pass, showing it to them without a word. They’d glance at it, nod, and wave me through. My pace never quickened—I didn’t have the strength. I just hoped the Queen would take pity on me. Dying over a dagger in a world I didn’t belong to felt unbearably cruel.

Finally, I reached the gates of the Queen’s Palace. The massive iron barriers loomed over me, flanked by two guards who immediately stepped forward.

“Halt!” barked the first, gripping his spear. “Where do you think you’re going, boy? Are you out of your—”

“Pass,” I rasped, holding out the document. “Just… let me through.”

The guard snatched the paper, squinting as he examined it. After a pause, he grunted. “Fine. But the Queen has guests right now. You’ll wait inside.”

“Uh-huh…”

The second guard eyed me, his lip curling. “Rowe’s hair, kid, what in the hells happened to you? You look like you were dragged through a battlefield.”

“Long story,” I muttered, shuffling past them without another glance.

The garden seemed endless as I trudged toward the palace doors. By the time I reached them, my head was spinning, my vision swimming in and out. Leaning against the cold stone wall, I braced myself, sucking in air to stave off the creeping darkness.

“You’re almost there,” I whispered to myself. “Just a little more.”

Pushing off the wall, I staggered forward, my hand trailing along for support. The spiral staircase ahead stood like a cruel challenge. One step at a time, I climbed, pausing every few steps to catch my breath.

“Agh… damn it… my leg…”

The pain was blinding, but I kept going. At the top, the grand golden doors came into view, guarded by two imposing sentries. Both of them straightened as I approached, their gazes hard.

They exchanged a look before one of them barked, “Halt. What’s your business here?”

I didn’t even answer. Wordlessly, I held out the pass, too exhausted to argue.

The guard took it, his eyes scanning the text. “Hmph. The Queen has guests. You’ll need to wait—”

“She’s expecting me,” I cut in, my voice hoarse.

“You didn’t hear me, boy?” the guard growled. “She’s not to be—”

“It’s my neck on the line,” I murmured, gripping the door handle and pushing it open.

The guards lunged, trying to stop me, but I slipped through their grasp. Whatever punishment waited, it couldn’t be worse than this nightmare.

Inside, the Queen sat at a grand square table, surrounded by guests. She was at the head, regal and composed. To her left sat a woman in royal attire that would’ve made designers in my world weep with envy. Across from her, a girl, maybe a year or two older than me, tore into a plate of chicken with gusto. Beside her was a small boy sipping soup, while at the other end of the table sat a burly, scarred man whose glare could probably kill a weaker person.

The room fell silent as all eyes turned to me. My ragged form, dragging footsteps, and bloodied appearance drew their scrutiny. I could hear the guards hissing behind me, demanding I stop, but I ignored them, limping forward with a single purpose.

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“Your Highness,” I croaked, pulling the dagger from its sheath. “I… bring your dagger.”

The Queen rose from her seat, her eyes narrowing slightly as she approached. “Axel,” she said, her tone sharp but controlled. “You’re late. You should’ve been here two hours ago.”

My head dipped low. “I… I’m sorry, Your Highness.”

I held the dagger out, my knees trembling. As I tried to lower myself to kneel, my vision blurred, and the strength in my legs gave out. The dagger slipped from my grasp, clattering to the floor.

Gasps echoed through the room.

The Queen’s eyes hardened at first, as if suspecting defiance, but her expression softened when she realized what was happening. My body tipped backward, the world tilting as I lost control.

She stepped forward, catching me by the arm and pulling me upright. My head slumped forward, landing against her chest. The scent of strawberries filled my nose as my legs completely gave out.

“Get off the Queen!” one of the guards barked, yanking me back and shoving me to my knees. Pain flared up my injured leg, staring at the blood that dripped from my face, pooling beneath me.

“Ugh…”

“Are you insane?” the guard shouted. “You dare touch her like that?”

“I didn’t… mean to…” I rasped, coughing as I struggled to stay upright.

The Queen bent down, retrieving the dagger from the floor. Her fingers brushed the hilt, and she studied it carefully before nodding in approval. Then, without a word, her gaze shifted back to me—calm, calculating, and unreadable.

After glancing at me, the Queen turned her sharp gaze toward the guard standing behind me. “Heal him.”

“Yes, ma’am,” the guard replied with a stiff nod, stepping closer to me.

Her tone grew colder as she continued. “Then throw him into the dungeon. Let him out in the morning. He interrupted our meal.”

“Understood, ma’am,” the guard said.

The man grabbed my arm and hauled me up, barely giving me a chance to steady myself. My left leg dragged behind, each step a fresh reminder of the pain radiating through my battered body. Relief washed over me—not entirely, but enough. She hadn’t ordered my execution. The dungeon wasn’t ideal, but at least I’d live to see another day.

The heavy doors closed behind us, sealing off the opulent hall. I exhaled, wiping some of the blood from my face.

“Move,” the guard barked, shoving me forward.

“Hmm.”

“When I say the Queen isn’t to be disturbed—” He shoved me again, his tone growing sharper.

The force sent me stumbling, and I hit the ground hard.

“I mean she isn’t to be disturbed, boy!” he snarled.

I groaned, propping myself up on one arm. “Yeah... Sorry.”

Not waiting for me to rise on my own, the guard yanked me upright and all but dragged me down the grand staircase. My pace was too slow for his liking, my injuries hindering every step.

“You’re pathetic,” he muttered.

Without warning, he shoved me hard from behind. I lost my footing and tumbled down the spiral staircase, my body bouncing against the cold stone. My head struck the floor with a sickening thud, pain exploding through my skull. Blood trickled down my temple as my left leg burned in agony.

I tried to push myself up, only to collapse under my own weight.

The guard sighed irritably, grabbed me by the cape, and dragged me across the hall. My battered body scraped against the floor as he hauled me toward another flight of stairs.

“Fucking idiot,” he spat, his voice dripping with contempt.

At the next set of stairs, he didn’t bother to help me down. Instead, he threw me forward. I hit the steps awkwardly, tumbling once again. My hands scrambled to grip the railing, finally catching hold, but a swift kick to my back dislodged me, sending me crashing the rest of the way down.

The air was colder on this level, the stone walls damp and unforgiving. When the guard caught up, he yanked me by my cape once more, dragging me toward a heavy wooden door.

He opened it with one hand and shoved me inside. “Get down there yourself. No healing for you, damned idiot.” he sneered, slamming the door shut behind me.

The small, dimly lit square room reeked of mildew. The only light came from two flickering lanterns on the walls. Ahead of me was a narrow staircase descending into complete darkness.

Groaning, I reached into my pocket and pulled out my phone. The flashlight barely penetrated the inky blackness, but it was better than nothing. I tried to push myself up again, leaning heavily against one of the lanterns for support. My body screamed in protest, but somehow, I managed to stand.

Each step down was agony, but I forced myself onward.

“And I thought---I thought my boss was a bad person,” I muttered, the faint echo of my voice swallowed by the oppressive darkness.