Compared to the cold emptiness of Hell's first floor, this place was the opposite.
Warm lantern light.
Soft carpets.
The faint fragrance of herbs and roasted at drifting in the air.
Across a long carved dining table sat Arianne Evermoon, watching him with a small smile as she lifted a forkful of food.
If Michael were honest with himself, the contrast was almost codic.
A mont ago, part of him was crouched on a frozen ridge, watching two barbarians from the Ancient Tribe Realm try to murder each
other in a blizzard.
Here, the other part of him was eating glazed beast at cooked with rare spices.
He took another bite.
He paused.
He chewed again.
Then he nodded slowly.
"This is better than mine," he admitted in his mind without sha. "Much better."
The Duke's chefs had a reputation for a reason.
Arianne's voice pulled him out of his thoughts.
"You like the food," she observed lightly, chin resting on her palm. "I can tell."
Michael glanced at her.
She wasn't wrong.
His expression was probably giving it away.
"It's good," he said simply.
"Just good?" she teased.
He let out a breath and gave up. He was starting to understand this princess a little.
"It's excellent."
Arianne's smile brightened, pleased for reasons he didn't quite understand.
"You'll eat like this often if you stay in the mansion," she continued. "Father insisted that you rest properly before anything else."
Michael nodded, letting her words settle.
Truthfully, he didn't mind the rest.
Besides, the food was great.
A servant stepped forward and refilled their cups with a pale blue drink.
Michael lifted the cup, letting the faintly liquid settle before taking a slow sip.
Sweet.
Another reminder that this world had its own luxuries.
He set the cup down.
"So," he asked, looking at Arianne, "what now?"
Arianne dabbed her lips with a silk napkin and gave a small, composed
nod, as if she had been expecting that question.
"We will attend a banquet tonight in the royal palace," she said. "Everything else... you'll find out there."
Michael's brow rose a little. "aning?"
Arianne leaned back slightly in her chair.
"aning I have already told you everything I know," she replied with a tiny shrug. "Father told that the banquet will determine other
things."
Michael took another drink from his cup, letting the information
settle.
Politics.
Royalty.
Nobles.
It was going to be a long night.
But he nodded.
"Alright."
Arianne smiled again, softer this ti.
"Don't worry. I'll be with you the entire ti."
They continued their al, letting the earlier heaviness fade into light
conversation.
It felt peaceful.
Warm.
anwhile, after so ti, the Michael in Hell had already reached
his location.
He slowed as the landscape shifted.
What stood ahead of him was... not what he expected.
Michael blinked once.
Then again.
"Is this what the Federation calls a settlent?"
He had imagined sothing small.
A fortified outpost.
A bunker.
A few tents.
Maybe a simple stone structure.
But what rose before him looked nothing like a temporary camp.
Towering walls stretched across the frozen horizon, carved from a mix of reinforced alloy and black stone. The surface glimred faintly with runic circuits, pulsing in a slow heartbeat rhythm. The gate alone was massive, tall enough for giants to walk through and reinforced
with layers of tal plates.
This was not a settlent.
This was a small city.
Michael's eyes traced the top of the walls. Movent caught his
attention.
Figures walked along the ramparts.
Federation soldiers.
Their discipline alone gave it away.
Michael also noticed the mounted weapons.
Large turrets.
Mana cannons. This place could flatten a demon horde without breaking a sweat.
He let out a slow breath.
"So this is the Federation's first floor base."
It was bigger than he imagined.
He started toward the massive gates, crunching through the snow. A
few ters in, he saw others as well.
He wasn't alone.
Around him, spaced out across the frozen plains, were silhouettes
moving toward the sa location. Teenagers. Young n and won. All roughly his age
Apparently, he wasn't the only one who decided the settlent should be the first stop.
Michael adjusted his pace and continued onward, blending with the slow stream of students making their way to the settlent. The closer he got, the larger the gates appeared
By the ti Michael and the others reached the entrance, the sheer
height of the walls made even the taller students tilt their heads back.
And once he stepped through the gate-
Michael slowed again.
Because the inside was not what he expected either.
Instead of a strict military outpost like the outside suggested, the
interior felt... alive.
Bustling.
Chaotic.
A long central street stretched ahead, flanked by rows of stalls, shops,
and open structures. The layout resembled a marketplace more than anything else. Voices rose and overlapped, the sounds of bargaining
echoing between the buildings.
Strong awakeners, cultivators, and even a few non human silhouettes moved among the crowd without sha or restraint.
People exchanged items with an almost aggressive enthusiasm.
So were trading demon parts.
So bartered glowing stones. So held tal fragnts clearly from other races.
One stall even displayed a row of small sealed bottles, each containing
a writhing mass of energy.
Michael raised a brow.
He moved further in, letting his eyes take in the flow of goods.
He passed a vendor selling dark bones etched with symbols. Another was selling jagged blue crystals that humd faintly with icy
energy. Further down, soone shouted prices for talismans made from monster hide-runework from a race he didn't recognize. Michael watched as a burly man shoved a bundle of demon fangs toward a hooded woman, demanding double the price. She shoved back. They argued. Neither cared who heard.
He continued onward. The soldiers patrolling the roads didn't intervene. They only watched, ensuring nothing escalated beyond shouting.
Michael took a slow breath, tasting the faint scent of cold tal, demon blood, and cooked food blending strangely together. For a place inside Hell, it was... surprisingly lively.
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