As they traversed the grand hallway of the manor, their steps led them to a pair of ornate, dark brown wooden double doors. Pushing them open, they stepped into a vast chamber, a veritable sanctuary of sartorial splendor. Racks overflowed with an astonishing array of garments—silks, satins, and velvets in every conceivable hue, alongside finely tailored suits and elaborate gowns. Woon gazed, utterly captivated.
"Whoa, that's a hell of a lot of clothes!" he exclaimed, his voice a low whistle of awe.
Jol merely hummed in agreement, surveying the opulent display with a calm demeanor.
"Maids, please assist our guests in preparing for the ball!" a knight announced, his voice carrying clearly across the room.
"Yes, sir!" the maids replied in unison, already moving with practiced efficiency.
Within moments, a selection of black suits in varying sizes was brought forth. A maid approached Woon, holding a measuring tape. "Sir, may I?" she asked politely.
"Sure," Woon replied, offering a slight nod.
Each member of the group was meticulously measured, and soon, perfectly fitted black suits were presented to them. They retired to separate changing rooms, emerging transformed. Gone were the practical leather armors and utilitarian attire of earlier; in their place, they now exuded an air of refined elegance.
"Well, this feels really nice!" Woon said, admiring the cut of his suit.
"We have to look presentable," Jol reminded him, adjusting his own collar. "We're heading to a place filled with royalty and nobles."
"A ball, huh?" Woon murmured, almost to himself. "I've never been to one."
"Are you all finished? Let's go!" the knight from before urged, gesturing towards the exit.
They exited the manor and settled into a waiting carriage. As it rumbled forward, the gentle sway and soft jostling encouraged conversation.
"By the way, Woon, where are you from?" Ken asked, breaking the silence.
"I'm from the East," Woon replied vaguely.
"The East? That's quite far," Anna, who had been unusually quiet, chimed in. "Where in the East?"
"Sichuan," Woon answered.
"Sichuan? You mean in Murim?" Ken's eyes widened slightly.
"Yes," Woon confirmed.
"I thought you were just from the eastern parts of this continent!" Jol exclaimed, clearly surprised. "So it's on another continent entirely!"
"Yeah, I traveled quite a distance," Woon admitted, a flicker of discomfort crossing his face. 'Is it really okay to just lie like this? I feel bad.'
"That explains your skill," Jol mused. "You must be from an excellent sect or a renowned family there!"
"No, I'm just an orphan, and I didn't join any sect," Woon clarified.
"So you just honed your swordsmanship yourself?" Ken pressed.
"Yes, but also not entirely," Woon explained. "Eric, you know him, he taught me a few basics, and then I learned on my own."
"That's truly amazing," Sol interjected, leaning forward. "And that weapon of yours, is it from the East too?"
"Yes, it was made by a friend of mine."
"Sir, we've arrived!" the knight announced, knocking on the carriage door.
They stepped out to behold a magnificent castle, its imposing facade rising majestically before them. A grand gate, flanked by numerous stern-faced knights, stood as the entrance. They walked towards it, only to be halted by a guard.
"Sir, may I know your purpose here?" the guarding knight inquired, his voice firm.
"We come in the name of Count Solon," the knight accompanying them stated. "We are here to guard him."
"May I see an invitation?" the guarding knight requested.
"Here!" Their knight produced a sealed letter and handed it over.
The guarding knight broke the seal and read its contents before nodding. "You may head inside!" he declared, offering a respectful salute.
The entire group passed through the tall gate and ascended a sweeping flight of stairs, eventually reaching the grand entrance of the castle. Inside, they were met by Count Solon.
"You're here! Thank goodness you've arrived quickly!" Count Solon exclaimed, a relieved chuckle escaping him.
'It's already night, and I haven't even had a wink of sleep!' Woon yawned, subtly covering his mouth.
"Let's go, the ball must be starting by now!" Count Solon urged.
They followed him down a long, exquisitely decorated hallway. Woon's eyes took in the lavish details: priceless vases and statues adorned niches, while gold and jewels shimmered, embedded into every decorative element on the walls.
At the end of the hallway stood a massive, ornately carved door. The knights guarding it pushed it open, revealing a breathtaking spectacle. The room beyond teemed with people, all resplendent in their finest attire—gentlemen in impeccably tailored suits, and ladies in magnificent gowns of every color and fabric.
'Are all of them nobles?' Woon wondered, a sense of awe washing over him.
Suddenly, a man with striking golden hair and piercing golden eyes stepped onto a raised platform, instantly drawing the attention of everyone in the room.
"Dear guests," he began, his voice resonating with authority, "I deeply thank you for coming to this ball and accepting our invitation. Please, enjoy every second you are here!"
'Is he royalty or something?' Woon thought, then whispered to himself, "What a speech just to say that, but still, better than nothing!"
"Go to your positions and guard the place!" Count Solon instructed them.
"Yes, sir!" Jol replied, leading the party to their designated spot.
Woon and Jol's group took up positions near the wall, discreetly observing the festivities. As time passed, Woon spotted a familiar figure—a man with long white hair, clad in a distinctive red and black ensemble.
'Isn't that Eric?' Woon thought internally. "Hey, Eric!" he called out, waving.
The recognizable figure turned, his eyes widening slightly as he saw Woon waving. "Woon?"
Eric walked closer, his curiosity piqued as to why Woon was at the ball instead of with Ron.
"Dude, what are you doing here?" Eric asked, a slight smirk playing on his lips.
"I just got here through a request. I'm with Jol's party!"
"What a coincidence that we met here! But don't call me Eric here; call me Victor!" Eric said, lowering his voice slightly.
"Why? Are you trying to hide your identity or something?" Woon inquired.
"Nah, my real name is Victor! Didn't Ron already tell you that 'Eric' isn't my real name?"
"He did, but I didn't realize you'd be using your real name here!"
"Yeah, although our name isn't widely known to the public, many nobles know my real name, so just call me Victor!"
"Yes, sure. But what are you doing here?" Woon pressed.
"It's a bit of a hassle, but His Majesty invited our family to the ball. Since my family couldn't attend, I just came for appearances."
"Is it because of your younger sister?"
"Yeah. So, how about we grab some drinks over there?"
"No can do, dude, I'm on duty!"
"Don't worry about that! Who's the one who hired you?"
"Count Solon! Can you do anything about him? He's a noble, you know!"
"Just for your information, Woon, I'm a noble too! But not an ordinary one."
Woon and Victor (formerly Eric) began to weave through the festive crowd, searching for Count Solon. A few moments passed before they finally located him.
"Yo, Count Solon, you know me?" Victor said, raising a hand in a casual greeting.
"Of course! How could I not know you, Sir Victor!" Count Solon replied, a deferential bow accompanying his words.
"Can you let my friend here and Jol's party enjoy the ball?" Victor continued smoothly. "I know them. I'll put in a good word with my father when I get home!"
'Wait, that mercenary knows Sir Victor! What a stroke of luck!' Count Solon's eyes widened imperceptibly. "Of course, Sir Victor! They may go and enjoy the ball!"
"Dude, what just happened!" Woon whispered, utterly confused.
"It's nothing," Victor said with a knowing grin. "Let's go tell Jol and his party that they can have some fun!"
Woon and Victor immediately headed to Jol's party and informed them that they were free to enjoy the ball for the night. Though they initially hesitated, citing their duty, Victor assured them that they had the Count's direct permission. With that, they finally accepted, dissolving into the jubilant crowd to partake in the food, drinks, and lively atmosphere of the ball.