Raised From The Wild Chapter 448: Ralden’s Games

Chapter 448: Ralden’s Gas

The palace never truly slept. Even when the lights dimd and the corridors emptied, the walls seed to listen — and rember.

That evening an uneasy calm had settled over Ra-Iya’s royal court. The banners hung motionless in the humid air, the servants spoke in whispers, and the scent of rain still clung to the halls.

King Ralden sat alone in his study, the the dim light throwing long shadows across his desk. Before him lay a screen.

He read a ssage once. Then again. And as he did, the The blue screen emitted from the device illuminated his face and caught the look in his eyes — sharp, cold, calculating.

Then the corner of the his lips curled up.

A storm broke before dawn.

By the ti the first light crept through the mist, the palace roofs still glistened with rain. Thunder rolled faintly in the distance — a slow, lingering growl that seed unwilling to let go of the night.

Ja-el had not slept. He sat in silence while he he kept entering series of codes on his cell phone and his watch. From ti to ti a frown would appear on his forehead.

When the palace stirred awake, he rose. His steps were asured, unhurried as he walked towards Sapiro’s room and every turn of the corridor had been marked in his mind the night before.

The path to Zanzara’s room was well-guarded, but guards could be swayed by rank — or by fear.

Sapiro walked side by side with his chief guard, Ja-el, who was silent as his shadow until they reached the ICU where Zanzara was.

The room beyond was cold — colder than any room ant for the living. The scent of disinfectant hung thick in the air. Crystals of frost clung to the windowpanes, though it was midsumr.

Zanzara lay where he had seen her last, her body unmoved. Her skin was pale, but not lifeless; her chest rose in faint, chanical rhythm. The soft hum of dical machinery filled the silence, a sound too steady, too deliberate to be natural.

Sapiro opened the door to enter but was blocked by a nurse in white uniform.

"I am sorry, Your Highness," the nurse said in a respectful tone. "No one is allowed to go inside the recovery room, as the queen’s situation is still critical."

For a long ti, Sapiro simply watched her. His hands trembled, though his face remained stone. "My daughter," he whispered. "What have they done to you?"

He stepped closer, pressing his face against the glass. "Have you found sothing?" He asked.

"I was able to hack into their system and I pulled out the video of how the queen slipped on the floor." Ja-el took out his cellphone and played a short video.

Sapiro watched as her daughter seed to be very frantic as she went inside the king’s chamber, then a servant followed her and blocked the cara and the next scene he saw was Zanzara on the floor with a pool of blood.

"So she really slipped," Sapiro released a deep sigh as he looked at his daughter for a long ti.

...

King Ralden, watched the video feed as Sapiro and his guards stood outside Zanzara’s room. Ralden stood for a long while in silence. Then he crossed to the window.

Outside, the palace lights shimred on wet marble, casting ripples over the reflection of the storm clouds. Sowhere out there, Sapiro was moving — and waiting.

Ralden’s lips curved faintly. Like everyone else you are easy to deceive, Sapiro. You only see what I wanted you to see.

anwhile, in the guest wing, the atmosphere had changed.

The guards who once bowed with courtesy now stood a little too close to the Lireyan entourage. Servants who once smiled now looked away when Sapiro passed. Even the air seed heavier, as though the palace itself had shifted allegiance overnight.

Sapiro noticed everything.

At the breakfast table, Ralden joined him, all smiles and ceremony. "Father-in-law," he greeted warmly, placing a hand on Sapiro’s shoulder. "You seem restless. Did you sleep well?"

Sapiro managed a polite nod. "I did, Your Majesty. Your palace is... accommodating."

Their eyes t briefly over the golden rim of Ralden’s goblet. Both n smiled. Neither believed the other.

"You’ve been visiting the queen often," Ralden said lightly, slicing a piece of fruit. "It warms my heart. She’ll recover faster knowing her father is near."

Sapiro’s fork paused just above his plate. "If she can hear , I hope she knows she is not alone."

Ralden’s knife stilled for half a second — then resud. "Indeed."

Silence lingered between them, thick and sharp as glass.

Then, Ralden leaned forward, voice dropping just enough to feel intimate. "You must understand, my dear Father-in-law, the queen’s condition is delicate. The machines sustaining her are fragile, complex. I’d hate for well-aning interference to worsen her state."

The words were gentle. The threat beneath them was not.

Sapiro inclined his head. "Of course. I wouldn’t dream of overstepping."

Ralden smiled, satisfied. "Good. I knew you’d understand."

Monts later, Ralden’s officials entered, breaking the tension with chatter and bows. The mask of civility returned — as two nobles sharing breakfast, laughing for the benefit of watching eyes.

But beneath the polished surface, the ga had changed.

Sapiro now knew that Ralden was subtly pushing him away. And Ralden now knew that Sapiro with his suspicions would not leave quietly.

After breakfast, Sapiro and his security detail departed for the orphanage — the one Amaya had once gifted to the kingdom of Ra-Iya.

The convoy rolled out of the palace courtyard beneath a leaden sky. The marble gates lood behind them, their gilded insignias gleaming faintly in the thin morning light. As the heavy doors closed with a resonant clang, it felt less like an exit and more like the sealing of a vault — a boundary between truth and deceit.

Inside the lead vehicle, Ja-el sat beside Vasquez, a small, matte-black laptop balanced on his knees. The mont they cleared the palace periter, he flipped it open, fingers moving with practiced speed across the illuminated keys. Lines of encrypted code began to cascade across the screen.

Vasquez glanced at the monitor, frowning. "Sothing’s wrong with the signal inside," he said, voice low. "Did they install jamrs? Our scanners kept failing in certain sections — especially near the royal wing."

Marx didn’t look up. "You noticed that too."

For a mont, only the hum of the engine filled the car. Then he exhaled slowly, eyes narrowing as he traced the interference patterns on his display. "They’ve layered a suppression field over the palace’s internal grid. That’s not just static jamming — that’s deliberate."

Vasquez’s brows knit together. "They’re hiding sothing."

Marx’s lips tightened, but he said nothing. His focus was absolute — every keystroke surgical, every command silent warfare. The encryption walls of the palace were strong, but now that they were beyond its periter, the signal began to flicker back to life.

A faint pulse appeared on his monitor. Then another. Then a voice.