Three days flew by, and soon, all the famous figures from the underworld were heading to Italy.
The Italian government started to get nervous, even more so than when dealing with terrorist threats. After all, these were people who could shake the ground with a stomp, and the danger was real. At that moment, it felt like the sky over Italy darkened just a little more.
Echo and Ryan didn’t show up in Italian airspace until evening.
The marriage alliance between underworld families was happening at night, not like the usual daytime events.
Echo stared at the fiery red sunset as it sank, and as the sky began to darken, she looked down below and suddenly said, “If a shell came flying through right now, it’d wipe out every ant below.”
After saying this, she chuckled despite the tense atmosphere.
Bill, sitting across from her, shot her a glare but had to admit she wasn’t wrong. Below, near the Red Castle, every one of the people there was a big boss in their own right. If a shell hit, the world would probably collapse.
“We’re here,” Tiger, who was piloting the plane, said as they began their descent.
The private airfield below was already filled with all sorts of planes. It looked like most of the invited guests had arrived.
A middle-aged man in a tuxedo was waiting on the lawn, grinning widely as he walked over. “Mr. Ryan, you’ve finally arrived.”
Ryan glanced at the man and said coolly, “Count Owen.”
Count Owen beamed, stepping forward. “We’ve been waiting for you, Mr. Ryan. The wedding will start as soon as you’re here. Everyone’s waiting inside.”
Ryan raised an eyebrow and gave a slight nod before walking inside.
Hawk, smiling, said, “Count Owen, you are too humble. We’re just following the host’s lead. No need to wait.”
Count Owen laughed, “Well, for everyone else, sure, but for Mr. Ryan, waiting is only proper. Please, this way.” He smiled and led the way.
Echo raised an eyebrow when she saw Count Owen, the host of the wedding, personally waiting for Ryan. It showed a lot of respect, but also made it clear how powerful the Dark family was. If things ever escalated into full-scale conflict, no one knew how it would all turn out.
The Red Castle had stood in Italy for nearly three hundred years. Originally built as a noble’s fortress, it was a true landmark. King George’s choice to host the wedding here was a clear sign of the event’s high status.
By now, the sky had darkened. From the castle to the airfield, there were no modern lights, only long torches lighting the way. It felt almost like stepping into the Middle Ages, with a hint of ancient Roman flavor. The servants, dressed in simple, sleek, medieval-style clothing, looked almost like gladiators as they walked in the torchlight’s vivid red glow.
“Mr. Ryan,” came the respectful voice as all the servants on either side of the path bent at the waist in unison, orderly and humble.
Ryan didn’t break stride, giving a cold nod as he walked toward the Red Castle, the torchlight flickering around him.
The Red Castle, now shrouded in darkness, was illuminated only by the scattered torchlight, which added a sense of elegance and grandeur. The castle’s bright white walls mixed with the surrounding darkness, giving it an almost fierce, arrogant aura-noble yet intimidating.
At the end of the welcoming procession stood a classic old wooden drawbridge, raised high and still closed for the time being.
Echo glanced down at the drawbridge by the light of the torches. Below, a rushing river roared, the water churning wildly, splashing and crashing as it flowed without pause. The dark rocks below seemed to appear and disappear with the current, and the sight of the turbulent water against the jagged stones sent a chill through her.
“Open it,” Count Owen, leading the way, snapped his fingers three times and called out loudly into the darkness that shrouded the castle.
As soon as he said “open,” a grinding, creaking noise filled the air. The sound of the gears turning was so rusty and harsh that Echo almost thought the bridge wouldn’t work at all. It was so old, it sounded like it was falling apart.
But then, with the squealing of the wheels, the drawbridge quickly descended. The light from the torches on it spread out, casting a crimson hue into the dark space.
“Please,” Count Owen said with a wide smile, stepping forward to cross the bridge first.
Ryan nodded coolly and followed him. Echo, along with Edward, Hawk, Tiger, Cobra, and Bill, followed behind Ryan, while Panther stayed back at the Dark family’s main estate.
The castle was a true antique, with every detail showcasing the opulent craftsmanship of three centuries ago. The cold stone and dark, gothic style made Echo’s eyes widen in awe.
Carved stone statues of ancient Roman guards stood at the entrance, flanked by two fierce-looking beasts that resembled hellhounds, their snarling faces adding to the foreboding atmosphere.
Echo couldn’t help but take a longer look; this castle had far more presence and grandeur than Adolph’s did.
They walked down a long corridor, and Count Owen led them to a massive golden door.
Two guards standing by the door immediately announced, “Mr. Ryan has arrived,” as soon as they saw him.
The main hall was nothing short of magnificent-Echo couldn’t think of any other word but “breathtaking.”
It was bathed in light, with every color shimmering and shifting. The walls were adorned with grand murals in the style of ancient Rome, conveying a mix of wild freedom and restrained elegance-luxurious and imposing, perfectly enhanced by the three-hundred-year-old castle.
Inside, the noise was loud as guests mingled, chatting in small groups. The conversation was filled with superficial pleasantries, though it was clear from their tight smiles that there was more tension than warmth. It should’ve felt like enemies meeting, but instead, everyone seemed distracted, as though their minds were elsewhere. The chatter quieted as the door to the hall opened, and all eyes turned to the entrance.
Ryan stood at the doorway and scanned the room slowly. The guests nodded at him in acknowledgment.
At the highest point in the room, Kevin, holding a glass of wine, sat with a smug, almost sinister smile on his face. When he saw Ryan, he raised his glass in a mocking salute.
“Mr. Ryan, long time no see. I see you’ve finally decided to grace us with your presence,” said King George, one of the hosts, dressed in his papal robes. The crown on his head sparkled in the light, making the seventy-something-year-old look a decade younger.
“Yes, yes, come on in. Why stand there?” Prince William, who had walked over from the center of the hall, gave Ryan’s arm a friendly pat and gestured for him to come forward.
Ryan tore his gaze away from the crowd and briefly looked at both Prince William and King George before responding coolly, “Congratulations to you both.”
“Oh, thank you,” King George said, his eyes squinting from his broad grin as he waved Ryan inside.
Ryan nodded once, stopping his scan of the room, and walked with authority toward the center of the hall. As he passed by, the gathered members of the underworld automatically parted to make way for him. Some of the familiar faces, those who relied on Ryan, slightly bowed and greeted him with a “Mr. Ryan.” Ryan simply acknowledged them with a faint nod and moved on.
Echo walked behind him, feeling every eye in the hall focused on them. Watching the crowd part and seeing Ryan’s cold, commanding presence, Echo couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow.
So arrogant. So domineering. She realized this was the aura of a true leader, a king.
Ryan walked straight to the jewel-encrusted chair at the highest point of the hall. One seat was already occupied by Kevin, leaving the other for him. Ryan turned without expression and sat down, taking his place beside Kevin, both sitting at the top of the hall, looking down at everyone.