Beggars, commoners, fugitives, outsiders, slaves, worshippers of the Evil God... almost every kind of lowlife gathered here.
Every day, new corpses could be seen appearing in the stinking gutters... a paradise for evil and criminals.
The main street outside was quite bustling, with a constant flow of carriages, and no one paid attention to Lear and his party.
After getting off the carriage, everything around Lear felt both unfamiliar and yet very familiar. He navigated the streets relying on the body’s mory.
After winding through, he stepped into a narrow alley that could only accommodate two or three people walking side by side.
The dirty black water flowed on the ground, with piled-up trash and excrent everywhere.
Whenever soone passed by, swarms of buzzing flies would rise, only to deftly settle back down once the person passed.
Finding a place to step through it was a challenging task.
Blando, overwheld by the stench, had his face contorted and tears flowing from his eyes.
He didn’t walk far before he leaned against the wall and dry-heaved...
Lear did not mock him when he saw this; his own reaction was much more exaggerated when he first arrived.
With a thought.
A barely visible mist enveloped the surroundings, dispelling the foul odor.
Only then did Blando feel sowhat better.
But the visual impact on his eyes still made him retch from ti to ti.
Along the way, no dim-witted fool dared to obstruct or provoke them. The aura of authority from the youth made passing people avoid them from afar.
If they couldn’t avoid it, they pressed themselves hard against the wall, fearing to rile up such a powerful presence.
In the slum, these people lived with more perceptiveness.
After walking forward for about ten minutes, Lear finally saw the small house where he had lived for a few days and where his original self had lived for years.
With a mix of complex emotions, he pushed open the ajar door and stepped inside.
Looking up, the low house was empty, without any furniture or decoration.
The walls around were exposed, showing a structure built with mud and hardwood.
In so leaky places, blackish moss was growing.
At the corner of the wall lay a shin-high bed, the darkened bedding on it covered in a thick layer of dust.
And there were obvious signs of it being rummaged through.
Evidently, even a place like this had been visited by thieves...
Blando, looking at this stifling house and living conditions, spoke in a trembling voice.
"Sir... was this your ho before?"
Lear nodded slowly.
"That’s right."
"It was here that I received the docunt appointing as the Pioneer Lord."
Blando felt enormously shocked.
Looking at Lear’s youthful, almost disturbingly young appearance, but with an increasingly imposing presence, he felt a genuine admiration and respect.
To erge from such a place and achieve what he had now; what kind of capability was that?!
To follow such a person was truly the luckiest event in his life!!
Praise the Goddess!! Praise the Lord!!!
At this mont, a voice of surprise ca from the door.
"Who’s in there?... Is it the boy Lear back?!"
The tone sounded sowhat excited, and then the footsteps suddenly beca louder.
The next mont, a small, white-haired middle-aged man appeared at the doorfra.
A rough, calloused hand pressed on the doorfra, and he craned his neck to look inside.
His gaze quickly swept past Blando, and the mont he saw Lear, his excited expression froze.
With a blood-red crown on his head, a black cloak on his shoulders, deep eyes, and an authoritative presence filled the air, creating an insurmountable gap between him and the ragged boy he once was.
Trembling, he raised his hand, then lowered it, his expression mixed with astonishnt and joy, finally becoming cautious.
"This, this noble sir... are you, Lear?"
Lear looked at the familiar face and showed a bright smile.
"Uncle Jem... I’ve returned."
Instantly, the middle-aged man standing at the threshold had red-rimd eyes, his nose slightly sour.
"I thought you... it’s good to be back, it’s good to be back!!"
User Comments
0 comments from readers