Because appearance might demand distance but tradition demanded closeness.

The palace gates slowly opened, their heavy doors groaning as they parted, and a hush rippled through the waiting crowd.

First emerged the royal family.

Queen Amina stepped forward at their head, cleansed of the day’s labor yet carrying its spirit with her. Fresh garments flowed around her, elegant and dignified, though simple enough to remind the people that she stood with them, not above them. At her side walked King Osita, solid and steady, his presence grounding. Their children followed, each distinct in their own way.

A murmur of awe passed through the streets.

Behind them came the leading noble houses of the kingdom, men and women clad in fine fabrics, their faces composed as they took their places. For once, rank did not separate them from the people, they were here to serve, not to be served.

At a silent signal, servants began carrying out the great covered vessels. Steam curled into the night air as the lids were lifted, and the scent that followed drew a collective breath from the crowd. Lines began to form naturally, orderly and patient, bowls held close to chests.

Queen Amina raised a hand.

The noise softened, fading into attentive stillness.

“My people,” she began, her voice clear and carrying easily across the square. “Tonight, we gather not as rich or poor, noble or common but as one kingdom.”

She gestured toward the steaming food behind her. “This meal was prepared in anticipation of tomorrow’s hunt, a tradition meant to honor the land that feeds us and the hands that protect us.”

Her gaze swept over the crowd, gentle. “Not all will be able to taste it tonight, and for that, I ask your understanding. If you have eaten in years past, I thank you for giving space to another. That kindness is what keeps Osita strong.”

A pause then a soft smile.

“Eat well. Share what you can. And may tomorrow’s hunt be guided by skill and the best hunter.”

She lowered her hand.

At once, the lines moved forward. Bowls were extended, ladles dipped, and the night filled with the sound of gratitude, soft words, relieved laughter, and the quiet clatter of shared hope as Osita once again proved itself not just a kingdom, but a family.

After a while, once the first rush had eased and the lines had settled into a steady rhythm, the royal family began to move as part of the crowd.

Queen Amina walked slowly through the lantern-lit streets, King Osita at her side, their children trailing close behind. Noble attendants kept a respectful distance, allowing the murmurs of the people to reach them unfiltered. Steam still curled from bowls as families stepped aside to let them pass, bowing briefly before returning to their meals.

The talk around them was no longer about the food.

“Tomorrow will be different,” a woman said eagerly to her companion. “Did you hear? The Queen herself will hunt again.”

“Amina hasn’t missed a season,” another replied with admiration. “But this year… there are more women joining than ever.”

Near a street corner, a group of hunters laughed loudly, weapons resting against their shoulders. “The western forest won’t know what hit it. I hear the First Princess is joining her mother this time.”

“She is?” one of them scoffed, then hesitated. “Actually… I believe it. Have you seen her aim?”

A younger voice chimed in, excitement barely contained. “They say whoever brings down the strongest beast earns the right to lead the closing rites. Imagine if it’s a woman again this year.”

“Again?” an elder chuckled. “Strength doesn’t belong to men alone. Osita learned that long ago.”

As the family continued on, whispers followed them like a tide.

“Which creature do you think will appear this season?”

“Something big. The land has been restless.”

“I’m betting on the iron-tusked boar.”

“Nah if the Queen is hunting, it’ll be worse than that.”

Amina listened quietly, her expression calm, though her eyes sharpened with interest. She glanced briefly at her eldest daughter, who walked with her chin lifted.

Osita leaned closer, his voice low. “They’re already placing bets.”

Amina smiled faintly. “Let them. Anticipation is part of the fun.”

Ahead, laughter rose as children pretended to stalk invisible beasts, sticks held like spears, while their elders watched with fond caution.

Tonight, the city dreamed of tomorrow.

The capital partied the night away, no, more than that, the entire kingdom did. From the towering spires of the capital to the most distant villages clinging to the edges of the realm, the Osita Kingdom was awake, alive with firelight, laughter, and ritual.

Those who could not make the pilgrimage to the capital did not feel excluded; tradition ensured that the celebration reached them all the same. In every corner of the kingdom, the same customs were observed, adapted only by distance and circumstance.

In manor halls and ancestral estates, the Ladies of the noble houses took the lead, as they had for generations. They oversaw the preparation of ceremonial meals, directing servants and kin alike, ensuring that every dish carried the proper symbolism.

Long tables were set beneath banners and lanterns, mirroring the splendor of the capital itself. Though separated by miles, the people of Osita shared the same sights, the same gestures, the same unspoken anticipation, all awaited tomorrow.

While music echoed through city streets and wine flowed freely, far from the warmth of celebration, another story unfolded.

Deep within the western reaches of the realm, where the forest for the hunt is located. Mei and her companions had already drawn close to their destination. Their journey had been long and punishing, every step toward the capital weighing heavier on their minds than the last.

Not far from the forest’s edge, hidden within a shallow cave, stood rows of stone statues.

At first glance, they appeared like old weathered figures frozen in silent vigil. But a closer look revealed something deeply unsettling. The statues bore an unmistakable resemblance to Mei and her companions. Every detail had been captured: the tilt of a head, the curve of a shoulder, even the faint suggestion of expressions long worn by exhaustion and pain. It was as though the stone itself had studied them, memorized them.

This was no coincidence, it was a deliberate countermeasure.

The Osita Kingdom’s surveillance was relentless, its gaze stretching far beyond walls and roads, probing minds as much as lands. The statues served as decoysa, nchors of false presence meant to mislead scrying eyes and senses. More than that, the cave offered something the open world no longer could: a fragile refuge for their sanity. Here, away from the kingdom’s ever-tightening grip, they could breathe, recover, and mend themselves if only slightly.

The reality for them was, the more they drew nearer to the capital, the more their torment had intensified. Whispers crept into their thoughts, dreams turned cruel and invasive, and reality itself seemed to bend under unseen pressure. The cave, the statues, it was all part of their struggle not just to remain hidden, but to remain “themselves”One of the statues trembled.

Fine cracks spider-webbed across its stone surface before it violently collapsed inward, fragments scattering across the cave floor. In its place stood one of Mei’s companions, if stood was the right word. The moment his form fully returned, his face twisted into a sharp, instinctive grimace. He barely had time to inhale before his knees buckled, and he crashed to the ground, clutching his head as though trying to keep it from splitting open.

A heartbeat later, another statue gave way.

Then another.

Stone shattered and fell apart, revealing Mei and the others one by one. Each of them suffered the same fate, appearing only to collapse, bodies convulsing as they writhed against the cold cave floor. Hands dug into hair, nails scraped skin, muffled cries forced past clenched teeth. Pain seized them immediately, brutally, as though their very existence in this land was being challenged.

The surveillance that blanketed the Osita Kingdom turned hostile the instant they returned to their flesh form.

Now in the capital, it was no longer a distant pressure or an oppressive awareness. It became voices, countless, overlapping, shrill and relentless, screaming directly into their minds. Leave, go back, you do not belong here, you are not accepted.

The sound tore through soul and flesh alike. Their skin burned and crawled, as if trying to peel itself away from bone, desperate to escape the agony. Their souls strained just as violently, tugged and twisted as though something unseen was attempting to rip them free and cast them out.

And yet, through the torment, their senses still worked. Beyond the forest, beyond the walls. They could hear it.

Laughter. Music. Celebration.

Joy drifted through the air like an insult, proof of how alone they truly were. They were under the same surveillance as everyone else in the kingdom… yet they were the only ones being punished by it. The kingdom embraced its people, even smothered them but to Mei and her companions, it was nothing but rejection and pain.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep