Detective in Another World: Solving Crimes with Necromancer System Chapter 67: The King

Arthur and Edward stepped through the towering oak doors, their boots echoing against the polished marble floor. Pillars rose on either side like silent sentinels, carved with intricate crests of lions and suns.

Before them, a deep crimson carpet stretched outward, leading to a throne made of gold and white stone, its surface gleaming beneath the light filtering through the stained glass windows.

The capital’s grandeur was on full display. But Edward paid it no mind.

His gaze locked onto the figure seated upon the throne.

A broad-shouldered man sat reclined, not muscular but imposing nonetheless. A trimd beard frad his weathered face, and despite the years visible in the lines beneath his eyes, his smile shone bright as his arms lifted wide.

"Arthur!" the man’s voice thundered through the hall. "My son has returned!"

Arthur slowed to a stop, then bowed his head slightly. "Father."

The King rose from his throne with surprising energy, descending two steps before pausing to look past Arthur—his eyes landing on Edward.

"And who might this be?" he asked, tone half-curious, half-disinterested.

Arthur motioned to him. "This is Edward."

Edward bowed, keeping his tone respectful. "Your Majesty."

The King tilted his head slightly, as if searching his mory. "Edward...?"

"He’s the one who led the rebellion against the Crimson Oath," Arthur supplied before the silence could stretch.

The King’s expression shifted, a flicker of recognition brightening his eyes. "Ah, yes. I’ve heard of your deeds." His lips curved faintly. "I assu everything is settled now that you’re here."

Arthur nodded. "For the most part. However, the man who started it all, Auren, has escaped."

"Let him run," the King said with a dismissive wave, already turning back toward the throne.

Arthur didn’t move. "He is dangerous, Father. We should send troops to track him down."

The room fell quiet.

Even the servants along the walls seed to stiffen, eyes darting between father and son. No one dared speak against the King, but Arthur wasn’t just anyone—and his words carried weight that almost matched the king’s... almost.

The King’s smile faltered. For a long mont, he seed to think, gaze distant. Then another voice broke the stillness.

"My dear..."

From behind the throne, a woman stepped forward.

Her heels clicked lightly against the marble as she circled the dais. Her crimson, neatly tied, hair fell to her shoulders. She wore a long, dark gown that shimred faintly under the hall’s golden light—its front modest, but the back exposed, revealing pale skin.

Her fingers brushed across the King’s shoulder as she leaned closer.

"Is it truly necessary to hunt down a single man?" she said smoothly, voice like velvet. "There is much to prepare for, Your Majesty. We shouldn’t waste ti chasing ghosts."

Edward blinked. He had seen many noblewon before—but not one like her. Her confidence, her tone, even the way she stood beside the King felt out of place. She didn’t seem like the Queen, but she also didn’t quite look like a concubine.

"Who in the world is she?" he wondered.

The King’s expression softened instantly. "You’re right," he said, smiling up at her. Then, he turned to Arthur, "Forget about that Duren—or whatever his na was. There are more important matters at hand."

Arthur’s jaw tightened. "Father—"

The King raised a hand. "No more. I need you here, in the capital. There is to be a royal wedding soon—mine and Lady Celene’s."

Edward felt the tension surge beside him.

Arthur’s hands clenched at his sides, knuckles pale beneath the glove. His expression stayed composed, but fury simred behind the calm.

"As you wish," he said finally, his tone clipped. Without another word, he turned on his heel and strode toward the exit.

Edward hesitated, his gaze shifting to the throne.

The King was already deep in quiet conversation with the crimson-haired woman—Celene, already forgetting his son’s arrival.

Realising he would gain nothing by staying, Edward turned and followed Arthur out.

The heavy doors closed behind them, muffling the voices within.

Arthur’s steps were quick, his coat flaring as he descended the marble stairs. His face remained stern, but his voice ca low, filled with restrained anger.

"Ever since she appeared, my father has not been himself," he said. "It’s like she has her claws in him—controlling every decision, every thought."

Edward frowned. "Who is she?"

"I don’t know. She ca out of nowhere." Arthur shook his head, eyes narrowing. "He’s had concubines before—after my mother passed, that beca his habit—but this one... It’s different. He’s obsessed. To marry her?" His tone sharpened. "It’s a disgrace."

Edward didn’t answer, but he didn’t need to. The fury radiating from the prince said enough.

As they reached the courtyard, sunlight glinted off the golden spires above. The air slled faintly of lilies and incense from the temple gardens nearby—but beneath it, tension lingered, heavy and bitter.

"Could she be the reason the King delayed the reinforcents?" Edward wondered. It wasn’t impossible, considering what Arthur just said. But why would she do that?

Before he could follow that thought further, movent ahead caught his attention.

At the base of the royal court’s steps stood two familiar figures—Aeris and Seraphine. Both looked worn, breaths uneven as though they had run the entire way.

Seraphine spotted him first.

"Edward!" Her voice broke with relief as she darted forward, ignoring every ounce of royal decorum. She threw her arms around him with a force that almost knocked him back. Edward froze, montarily speechless, before her tight grip forced the air from his lungs.

He managed a faint, awkward smile when she finally pulled away. "Good to see you too."

Her eyes were teary, wide with the kind of relief that words couldn’t express.

Aeris approached more slowly. She still wore bandages along her side and wrist, though her vitality had returned. Her expression, however, was hard to read—sowhere between gratitude and quiet frustration.

"Looks like you made it back in one piece," she said softly.

Edward nodded. "So did you."

Arthur exhaled, so of his tension fading as he glanced between them. "It seems the city’s healers did their job well."

"Barely," Aeris muttered, though there was a faint curve to her lips.

For the first ti since the two girls had left Ashenhold, Edward felt the weight of unease lift. He couldn’t help but smile at the sight of them again—yet before he could fully enjoy the mont, a third figure approached.

"Brother!"