The cities were safe zones, places where they could dine and rest. But the mountains and the basin were dangerous territories, teeming with beasts, robbers, and rcenaries residing in the darkest corners.
If they were not powerful enough, they would beco prey.
***
The sky was a shade of bright blue, with only a few white clouds floating lazily.
In the basin, the cool breeze carried the distinct, tallic stench of blood.
"Haha, these thieves must have mistaken us for weak travelers," Caleb said as he wiped the blood off his saber with a black cloth.
Sitting atop his horse, Igris looked down at the bodies of the thieves littering the ground. Among the ten horse thieves, so were cut in half, while the rest had been decapitated. Their blood colored the grass a dark crimson.
"We were only two people, and we even had the Crimson Horses. They probably couldn’t handle the temptation."
"Yeah, when they learned that we are from the Marlin Academy Fortress, one of them tried to escape. I guess these guys are frightened of Players like us," Caleb chuckled. "However, this could not be said about those rcenaries. In fact, they might even target us more."
Igris nodded. Although the number of rcenaries out there was fewer than the horse thieves, every single one of them was extrely powerful.
They could even compete with so students. So of the lucky ones might have gotten valuable manuals from their dead benefactors, possessing decent skills; and given their experience with fighting and traveling, they were dangerous foes.
They had already encountered a Level 10 rcenary earlier on, who had managed to push Caleb off his horse with a single move. If he had been allowed a second attack, Caleb would have definitely been killed on the spot. Luckily, Igris had reached the man in ti, his blade slicing through the rcenary’s neck, saving his friend.
"I heard that Dellas is the biggest town in the northwest," Caleb said, climbing back onto his horse. "It is fifty miles wide, with a population of over ten thousand people. I wonder what it is like."
Pulling the reins, the two clenched their legs against their mounts’ flanks and continued their journey.
In the evening, the sun was slowly going down, dying the sky a bloody red.
Following the flow of other travelers, the two teenagers arrived at a massive river. Beyond the water, a huge town lood.
They had spent a day traveling, and they had finally arrived at their destination – Dellas.
Behind the crowd, Igris looked up. He saw two golden characters carved into the stone archway of the gate.
"Dellas City."
’Phew!’
Igris let out a huge breath of air. Even though he had ntally prepared himself, he was still quite shocked by the scale of the river surrounding the town. It was massive, acting as a natural moat.
The town gate was thirty-three ters high, while the town wall was sixty-six ters high, manned by a large number of guards. They patrolled with stoic expressions, exuding a strong murderous aura that warned outsiders to behave.
"We are here," Caleb said, sounding exhausted but relieved.
"Yeah! Let’s go inside."
Igris saw that they were almost at the front of the line, so he smoothly slid off his horse.
Gripping the reins, the two of them walked up to the towering town gates.
Flanking the entrance were two rows of soldiers clad in heavy iron armor. Each one was built like a brick shithouse. Igris’s senses pricked up—these weren’t your average cannon fodder. They were all Level 10, and their captain was knocking on the door of Level 20.
"10 Silver Crowns per person. Try to sneak in, and my blade will gladly introduce itself to your neck." The captain wasn’t even handling the coins; he just stood there, radiating murderous intent like a supervillain watching ants march.
Caleb’s fat cheeks trembled in outrage. "One silver?! That’s highway robbery! That’s fifty bronze coins!"
Igris chuckled. "Since when did you care about pocket change, Fatso?"
"I don’t! It’s the principle! The sheer audacity!"
"Dellas is the number one town in the northwest for a reason," Igris said, his dual-colored eyes scanning the massive walls. "High barrier to entry keeps the trash out. If it was cheap, the whole place would be a overflowing slum."
Caleb grumbled but couldn’t argue with logic. "I guess that makes sense."
After forking over the entry fee, they stepped through the gates—and imdiately froze.
To say Dellas was the largest town in the northwest was a gross understatent. The main street was so unfathomably wide that ten Dragonkins could ride side-by-side in their full battle forms without scraping a scale.
The shops lining the avenue were obscenely luxurious, gleaming as if the gods themselves had vomited gold and gemstones all over the architecture. In the distance, high-rises pierced the clouds, and at the very center of the city stood a monolithic tower that seed to anchor the sky itself.
"Marvelous." Igris shook his head in sheer disbelief. If Dellas was full of modern skyscrapers, he wouldn’t have batted an eye. But these architectural monsters? They were built by hand, fueled by mana and sweat, without a single crane or machine in sight. It was a level of opulence that the modern earth could never replicate.
***
West District.
The Ghostern Restaurant!
Inside a plush private dining room, Igris and Caleb had ordered enough food to feed a small army.
"I cannot believe this place is packed to the brim!" Caleb talked with his mouth full, spraying crumbs. "But holy shit, the food is good. Way better than that dried garbage we packed. I was two bites away from dying of depression."
True to his gluttonous nature, Caleb was inhaling food at a rate that defied the laws of physics. He had already cleared three people’s worth of dishes.
The sliding door opened, and a waiter stepped in carrying a steaming, fragrant platter.
"Sirs, this is on the house. Please enjoy."
The Ghostern Restaurant had sixteen private rooms, each nad after a star sign. Only the high rollers dining in these rooms got the VIP treatnt; the plebs out in the open hall had to pay out the nose for a glass of water.
Igris leaned back, tossing a bone onto his plate. "Excuse . When does the Dellas Auction start?"
The waiter blinked, montarily stunned. Only the ultra-wealthy even thought about attending the auction. *’These two must be loaded.’* The waiter’s attitude instantly shifted into maximum bootlicking mode. "Two Young Masters, the auction begins in three hours. You are more than welco to rest here in our hotel until then!"
"Three hours of waiting, huh? Here’s your tip." Igris flicked a silver coin through the air.
The waiter snatched it, his face blooming into a grotesque smile. "Thank you, Young Masters! If there’s nothing else, I will see myself out."
"Beat it."
But the mont the waiter stepped into the hallway, a furious roar shook the wooden walls.
"What?! The private rooms are full? Are you shitting ?! Do you expect Lionel to sit out there with the lowly swine?!"
"Young Master Lionel, they are truly full! Please, just give a mont! So guests are finishing up—" The waiter’s voice trembled in sheer terror.
"Tch! I’ll give you a cup of tea’s worth of ti to clear a room. Otherwise, I’ll dismantle this restaurant and your life along with it!"
***
Outside, the waiter was sweating bullets. Evicting a wealthy guest from a private room was suicide, but this Lionel wasn’t soone you could just brush off either. He was one of the Top Eight Youngsters of Dellas, and a scion of the Radcliffe Family—a power only slightly beneath the supre Eight Great Families.
"Please wait, Young Master! I will fetch the owner!" The waiter didn’t dare make the call himself; he bolted downstairs like his life depended on it.
The young master in question, Lionel, sneered. He wore gaudy, expensive silk that scread *new money*. He turned to the stunningly beautiful girl beside him. "I hear there are so serious artifacts dropping at the auction today. Unfortunately, every other dog and their mother heard the sa rumor."
The beautiful girl sighed, her tone condescending. "My second brother, the Genius Eeon from the Myth Beast Academy, will be attending."
Lionel’s face stiffened. *Eeon.* The holder of the title "Golden Legs," and the undisputed top of the Top Eight Youngsters. His true combat power was a complete mystery.
"Besides him, ’Fast Blade’ Sung Jin-hoo from the Frost Blade Academy is coming too. I heard he’s hunting for a legendary weapon."
That made Lionel look constipated. Compared to those two monsters, he was barely a side character.
Monts later, the restaurant owner—a sweating, sixty-year-old man—ca scrambling over.
"Ah, Young Master Lionel! What an honor! What brings you here?"
Lionel’s eyes were cold. "Owner. Clear a room. Now. I’ll compensate you handsoly, so don’t give that ’we’re full’ bullshit."
"Right away! I’ll handle it personally!"
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