Unlike the other capitals I'd visited—those obsessed with flaunting their beauty through soaring towers, gleaming dos, and artful symtry—Fangoria's capital couldn't care less about appearances. Especially compared to the Elven Kingdom, which practically scread 'look at us!' with their ridiculous amount of sparkle and elegance, this place felt grounded. Real.
But standing here now, I had to admit... Fangoria had its own quiet charm.
The buildings, though simple in structure, had a unique warmth to them. Made mostly of pale bricks, they carried a rustic tone—weathered yet sturdy. Not too polished, but not primitive either. You could tell, even without the flashy glow of enchantnts or the glimr of crystal-tech towers, that this city was far from backward. The people here knew what they were doing. Technology thrived beneath the rougher edges, woven subtly into the cobblestone and iron fixtures of everyday life.
The entire city was washed in soft grays and earthy browns—muted, almost sleepy tones—but despite that, the atmosphere was anything but dull. Streets buzzed with life. Laughter spilled from cafes and workshops. rchants shouted over each other to boast about prices and deals, while children darted through the crowd with wooden swords and wolf-tail charms dangling from their belts.
Werewolves had indeed tails but most of them were hiding in other countries it it seems but not here.
Compared to the other capitals—where you had to keep your chin up, back straight, and pretend perfection was your default setting—Fangoria felt refreshingly free. No stiff necks. No overly polite smiles hiding daggers. People here didn't seem to care about putting on a show. Even the kids weren't paraded around in formal wear like dolls. They were loud, ssy, alive.
And there are a lot of werewolves.
I an, I'd seen my fair share of them before, but this was sothing else. Whole families of them. Old grandpas with thick silver beards and clawed canes. Teenagers with wolf ears poking out of hoodies. Even toddlers, fuzzy tails wagging as they toddled after their parents. I'd never seen so many in one place—it was almost overwhelming.
"Excuse !" A high-pitched voice called.
A blur of kids rushed past , all giggles and stomping feet, nearly knocking over. I blinked, a little dazed, and chuckled under my breath.
I couldn't believe this was my first ti here in over a year.
Then again, I hadn't exactly had ti to go sightseeing. Too busy surviving. Too busy fighting.
I turned slightly and caught Roda in my peripheral. She wasn't saying anything, but I could see the way her gaze wandered across the street, soaking everything in. There was sothing nostalgic in her stance. Even with the mask hiding most of her face, I could feel it.
I got it. Sort of.
This was her ho. Or at least, it had been—before Behemoth tore through it like a beast unleashed. Gods only knew what else had happened here in her world. Maybe more attacks. Maybe worse.
But right now, the city looked untouched obviously.
"Roda," I called out, nudging her out of her thoughts. We couldn't just keep standing there in the middle of the street like lost statues.
"A—Ah, yes. Sorry…" She blinked rapidly, then gave a quick shake of her head.
"If you want, take your ti and look around," I said. "I need to go check in with my professor anyway—make sure the others know I'm here. Just in case."
She hesitated, brows knitting slightly under the shadow of her mask. "But…"
"Don't worry," I cut in with a half-smile, patting her back lightly. "I doubt Behemoth's going to attack again this soon. It's your city—at least enjoy it a little while you can. Just… be discreet."
Roda looked at , and though her eyes were slightly guarded, I could still see the gratitude in them. "Right. Thank you."
"If anything feels off—or if you need help—ssage ," I added, holding up my phone. "You have my number. I'll do the sa."
We'd exchanged contacts after I bought her a new phone. It wasn't much, but at least it gave her a way to stay connected.
With a nod of mutual understanding, we parted ways.
Now… ti to find my oh-so-lovely classmates.
I sighed under my breath.
Where would those guys go first after arriving in a new kingdom?
Instinctively, I turned my eyes toward the distant hill where a grand structure stood like a sentinel. The Royal Castle of the Moonfangs…that would be the obvious place.
I fished out my phone again and typed a quick ssage to Rodolf.
[I'm late. On my way to the castle.]
Short and direct. That should be enough.
Now, I just had to figure out how to actually get there.
I scanned the area, looking for a carriage, a mana-taxi, a rideshare —anything. But this city… it was different.
People here walked. Ran. Jumped rooftops. So zipped past on sleek mana-bikes or enchantnt-gliders, but there wasn't anything like a taxi stand or ride crystal around. No easy transport. It gave the city a kind of raw energy—but also, damn, it was inconvenient.
I debated whether to flag down one of the passing vehicles and flex my royal status a bit, just enough to get a ride. It would've worked. Probably.
But I stopped myself.
Given my current reputation—as the backstabber of Sancta Vedelia, public enemy number one in so circles—and the fact that Fangoria was set to officially banish at the end of the month, doing sothing flashy or entitled right now would be... monuntally stupid.
Knowing my luck, it would backfire spectacularly. Soone would record it, twist the story, and boom—I'd be kicked out of the kingdom today instead of next week. And I couldn't afford that. Not until Behemoth was dealt with. Not until it was safe.
So yeah. For now, I'd play it low-key.
With no other real options, I wandered the streets of the capital at a casual pace—well, as casual as I could manage given the circumstances.
Unsurprisingly, I started attracting attention.
People didn't exactly rush up to greet , but they definitely noticed. So turned to stare for a few seconds too long before quickly looking away. Others began whispering behind cupped hands. It wasn't hard to guess why—my face had been plastered all over enough propaganda boards that anyone with half a brain could recognize . Not everyone knew the full story, of course, but just enough to cast judgnt.
But oddly enough, none of them said a word. They didn't confront , shout slurs, or throw things. No, they simply gave a wide berth as if I carried so kind of disease. Not hostility—just distance.
And then there was the other reason for the stares.
I stood out.
A lone Human in the capital of Fangoria—tall, white hair and wearing clothes that didn't exactly scream 'local'. Even if no one knew who I was, I was clearly foreign. And here, that was enough to draw attention.
"Hey, Human."
Ah. There it is.
A voice—gruff, cocky, and dripping with false confidence—called behind . I stopped walking, already knowing where this was going before I even turned around.
Erging from a shadowy side alley to my left ca a tall, burly man. His thick arms were folded over a battered leather vest, and his sharp canines glead even in the weak sunlight. Three others flanked him—less imposing, but clearly part of the sa crew. Typical pack behavior.
I let out a long breath. Right. I forgot.
Fangoria had the highest delinquency rate of all the major Kingdoms of Sancta Vedelia. It wasn't exactly a tourist-friendly trait, but it kind of made sense. They were raised to be warriors, bred to be the strongest race in the known world. Their culture valued strength, dominance, and pride—things that, when left unchecked, gave birth to gangs like this.
Still didn't excuse it.
"Looks like you found a nice little target, Raken," one of the thugs chuckled with a grin that didn't reach his eyes.
"Yeah, check out his ring," another added, nodding at my hand. "That Spatial Ring's gotta be top-tier. Probably loaded with goodies."
"I don't like Humans," the third growled with open disdain.
"Well, good news then," I said with a forced smile, raising both hands as I took a step back. "I'm only half Human. So maybe you'll only hate fifty percent and let go?"
I turned slightly, making a move to leave. But before I could take another step, the big guy—Raken, I assud—planted his hand firmly on my chest.
"No," he growled. "You're coming with us. Walk. Or you'll never walk again."
He tried to add a threatening glare to punctuate the statent, but his twitching wolf ears kind of ruined the whole effect.
Sorry, Rodolf—I still can't take male werewolves seriously.
I glanced around, noting the growing number of curious eyes from passersby. No one seed eager to intervene, but at least a few looked genuinely concerned. So even seed ready to step forward—before quickly thinking better of it.
I sighed.
"Alright, alright. Please don't hurt ," I said in a shaky voice, doing my best to act like I was scared. I cast my eyes down and started walking, playing the part.
Raken smirked. "Ehehe. Good. Smart choice."
They led down that narrow, grimy alley they'd crawled out of. The further we went, the darker it got. The sunlight barely reached the ground here, filtered out by stacked buildings and rusted balconies. Garbage bins lined the walls, and the sll was sowhere between mildew and wet dog—fitting, I guess.
Eventually, once the sounds of the bustling main street had faded into the distance, we stopped.
The largest of the gang leaned in close, his rather fool breath annoyingly hitting my ear. "What's a damn half-Human like you doing in the Kingdom of the Strongest, huh?"
"Oh, I just ca for the atmosphere," I said with a shrug. "You know, the charming alleys, the gracious locals... the warm welcos."
"Brother, I think he's mocking us."
"I think so too," another growled. "Let's just kill him and take the ring."
I sighed lightly, brushing invisible dust from my shoulder. "I'd advise against that," I said, glancing at them with boredom. "Only my mana can unlock the contents."
Raken's expression darkened. "Then we'll just force you to open it."
"And why," I asked casually, eting his eyes without flinching, "would I do that now that I know you're planning to kill ?"
"Because we'll offer you a very painful death if you don't," Raken said with a smirk.
"A painful death, huh…"
I smiled faintly.
"...!"
–BAM!
Before he could even twitch, I grabbed the front of his vest and slamd him against the grimy brick wall with a loud, reverberating crack. The air left his lungs in a wheeze as he spat out a mouthful of blood from the sheer impact.
"Huh—Argh!"
"Brother!"
"What the—?!"
"Wait! That guy's dangerous!"
The three lackeys froze on instinct, their bravado instantly draining. They stared at wide-eyed, their legs shifting uncertainly as if unsure whether to run or fight.
Raken, dazed but not unconscious, glared at through bloodied lips. With a snarl, he wrapped one of his massive hands around my arm—his fingers easily encircling it—and tried to squeeze. His strength wasn't a joke. He had the build of a trained brawler.
But nothing happened.
His expression twisted in confusion when my arm didn't even budge. No strain, no flinch. Just silence as I looked down at him like he was a particularly unremarkable statue.
"Y–You... bastard…" He breathed in disbelief.
"Let's take the pill!" One of the goons yelled, suddenly fumbling through his side bag. He pulled out a small glass vial with a few yellow pills inside, trembling with excitent.
I narrowed my eyes.
That pill…
I'd seen it before.
"Are you stupid?!" One of the others shouted. "Using that pill here?! Don't waste it!"
"What do we do, then?!"
"I don't know! Just—don't ss with him!"
What an annoyingly indecisive group.
I gave Raken one last disappointed look, then let him go with a shove that sent him sliding down the wall. Before they could react further, I leapt upward, my body twisting in midair before I landed easily on the roof of the adjacent building.
Down below, the thugs stared up in stunned silence before running away.
"I don't have ti for trash," I muttered to myself.
Rising to full height, I turned my gaze toward the towering silhouette on the distant hill—the Royal Castle of Moonfangs.
Enough wasting ti.
Ti to join the others.
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