Tentu! Berikut versi bahasa Inggris dari narasi tersebut, dengan nada ceria, petualangan ringan, dan sedikit humor tetap dipertahankan:
"Oh no! This is bad! Really bad! I overslept!"
That morning, Arion woke up in a panic. A rare occurrence—despite never needing to be woken up, he had always managed to rise on time. But today was different—the sun was already high, and his body was still sprawled in bed. Without washing his face or brushing his hair, he bolted straight to the dining hall, hoping to catch the last scraps of breakfast.
But his hopes were dashed the moment he saw the dining table—neat, clean, and completely empty. Not a single plate of food in sight. He slumped into his favorite corner chair, alone, with a growling stomach and a heart full of regret.
"Ugh... this is all my fault," he muttered, clutching his belly.
But amid the frustration, a sudden idea sparked in his mind. With quiet, nimble steps, Arion slipped out of the palace through the back gate—luckily unguarded at that moment. He made his way down a forest path, thick with trees and brush, until he stood before a towering, eerie fortress.
This wasn't just any place—it was the royal underground prison, where the kingdom's most dangerous criminals were locked away.
Arion scanned the surroundings. A few guards were patrolling nearby. Realizing he couldn't enter openly, he resorted to his favorite trick. From behind a bush, he picked up a small stone and tossed it toward one of the guards.
The guard paused, turned, and slowly approached the bushes. Just as his hand began to part the leaves, Arion swiftly pulled him in—and did what had to be done.
"Classic move. Still works like a charm," he whispered, slipping into the guard's uniform. "I'll borrow this for a bit, alright?"
Unfortunately, the uniform was far too big. The shirt drooped, the pants sagged, and the helmet sat crooked on his head. But Arion strutted forward confidently, fixing his attire every time he passed another guard to avoid suspicion.
After weaving through several corridors, he spotted a group of guards carrying a large crate down the stairs into the lower levels. Curious, Arion followed them from a distance.
The underground chamber was dark and damp. Flickering torchlight cast eerie shadows along the stone walls. The air was thick with the scent of metal and moisture. This was the heart of the most terrifying place in the palace: the execution cells and eternal prison chambers.
His steps halted as a massive dog emerged from the shadows. Muscular, dark-furred, with eyes that gleamed with intensity. The dog stared at Arion, ready to pounce.
And it did—without warning, it leapt straight at him!
His disguise came apart, his helmet flew off, and he crashed to the floor… but instead of biting, the dog began licking his face with wild excitement. Its tail wagged furiously. The beast looked absolutely thrilled to see him.
"Hey—hey! Stop that—it tickles!" Arion laughed, trying to push the dog away.
From the shadows, a deep but calm voice spoke,
"Overslept again, Your Highness?"
The figure who emerged was Orlo—the prison warden. A towering man clad in military uniform, with a steady gaze and commanding presence. Known for his strict discipline and quiet authority, Orlo was the only one capable of managing the kingdom's most dangerous inmates without ever losing control.
Arion turned with a sheepish smile.
"Hahaha… as you can see. I guess I got a bit too cozy in bed today."
Orlo merely shook his head slowly, but the corner of his lips curved into a faint smile.
"At least this time, you didn't knock over an entire stack of archives like yesterday."