Ash. The Legends of the Nameless World. Progression Gamelit Story by Kirill Klevanski (ink book reader .txt) 📕

As a former baronet, he knew that if no servant came to greet you, that was a clear sign that the guests and the hosts were already inside.

“Can we leave now?” Mary asked naively. The rest of the group looked at her as if she had suggested they kill a kitten.

Mary sighed in frustration, knowing that her vote couldn’t go against that of the majority. They dismounted their horses, took them by the bridles, and led them to the stalls. It took Ash quite some time to talk Guido into stay still, as he refused to be tied and cooped up. He eventually managed to persuade him into listening by bribing him with a cube of sugar soaked in rum. Truth be told, it took Ash a lot of self-control not to eat the treat himself.

They then left their weapons on a special rack, where the blades of other guests glittered under the moon’s rays and hurried to the main entrance. Ash didn’t see any guards or servants at the gates, which he found a bit disconcerting. His rumbling stomach, however, successfully drowned out the voice of reason.

“It’s locked,” Blackbeard grunted as he tried to open the heavy doors. There was a loud, prolonged creak, followed by a confused “eh?” as Blackbeard stared at the doorknob that ended up in his hand. Scratching his beard, he threw it behind him, pretending that he had seen nothing.

“Did you j—” Mary began but was shushed.

Ash smirked, raised his staff, and slammed it against the doors with such force that it made his hands shake. A moment later, the doors squeaked open, their hinges creaking with the sound of rusty iron. The group tumbled inside and stared in awe at the rich décor.

Magic torches lined the walls, omitting no smoke as they dyed the hallways a pale golden light. Old tapestries hung from the ceiling and railings. The threads had faded over time, but this only added to their charm and beauty. Stretched across the stone floor was a carpet of deep red, made of material so soft that their feet sunk into it up to their ankles. In the corners, on tables made of red and white wood, glittered silver goblets. In the niches hidden in the shadows, were paintings in golden frames and statues made of milky-white marble.

“Wait!” a desperate cry rang out.

The group stopped in their tracks and reflexively reached for their weapons but groped only air. According to the law, only mages and wizards had the right to carry their staffs and wands wherever they went, as they served to let people know that there was magic coursing through their veins.

A group of three people peered from behind the corner: two girls and a young man. They looked exhausted. Their eyes had no joyful gleam in them, expected to be seen at such a merry occasion as a wedding.

“No! Oh,” gasped the lady with white hair.

The hinges creaked again and the door, as if triggered by the lady’s voice, slammed themselves shut. The lady descended the staircase, scratching the railing with her fingernails, and fell to her knees, crying softly.

“What’s going on here?” Mary asked, pale with fright. Unarmed, she felt as vulnerable as a newborn.

“I think we might have a problem,” Ash suggested.

He went to the doors, cocked his head, and tried to push them open, but nothing happened. He then tried to hit them with his staff like before, but to no avail. No creaking of wood, no groaning of rusty hinges — just silence.

“What a strange spell,” he mused, running his hands over the wood. A faint turquoise shimmer could be seen under his fingertips as if hundreds of tiny lightning bolts were following the movements of his fingers. “Interesting... Not even I can open them...”

“Oh, that’s just great!” Lari grunted, pulling out his scabbard to use it as a weapon if need be. “Some mage you are when you can’t even force a door open.”

“No need for that tone...” Tul raised his hands. “You’re scaring Alice,” he said, looking at the fragile girl who was peering from behind Blackbeard. “Good folk,” he continued, turning to the trio, “can you tell us what’s going on here and why you look like you’ve been to hell and back?”

The young man who was soothing the white-haired lady turned to the adventurers. He was trying to utter something, but words seemed to be getting stuck somewhere in his throat. Flushed, he was straining and puffing his cheeks, but his lips wouldn’t move, merging into a thin, white line.

“I can’t,” he finally breathed out and shook his head.

“Very interesting,” Ash commented, hovering over the trio that was sitting on the carpet, embracing one another. “A silencing spell... They won’t be able to tell us anything until we become a part of whatever the spell’s referring to.”

“What do you mean?” Mary asked with a note of fear in her voice.

Ash straightened up, smiled, and tapped the floor with the staff.

“Friends, we’re in a cursed castle,” he said, grinning from ear to ear.

Chapter 18

“O h, well, that’s fuc—” Blackbeard began, but was shut up by Lari who stuffed a bun into his mouth. When the rest of the group looked at him in bewilderment, he spread his arms and shrugged. “I always keep a couple on me for cases like these,” he said. Whatever was needed to keep little Alice’s mind clean of filth, he told himself.

Mary rubbed her temples and decided to take control of the situation before her guys started a fight, which happened more often than she was willing to admit. “Calm down, guys, we’re going to the feast.”

“We are?!” Lari shouted. He wasn’t a coward, but he didn’t like things he didn’t understand. And this castle and its inhabitants were just that.

“We are,” Mary confirmed with