After stopping by the food markets to purchase bread and fruits, Percival filled his belly as he walked away from the clamor of the city center.
Depriving himself of sleep was one thing, but he would not dare deprive himself of food.
He needed his strength for what he was set to do.
Soon enough, as his trek continued, the dense architecture of Luvengart, with its smoking chimneys and crowded weapon stalls, slowly gave way to the outskirts.
With not too many eyes to stare now, Percival summoned Argus and guided the horse deeper into the less-civilized area of the city.
The noise of people faded, and the rustling of dry stalks and the whistling of the wind took over.
The landscape here was sparse. From what Percival’s eyes could see, it was re farmland after farmland; vast stretches of green that looked half-abandoned.
The soil was too rocky and the air itself was too thick for crops to grow decently. So they sprouted sparingly, yellow and hungry, bending to the direction of the sun.
This was the quiet side of the city. The side people ignored.
Percival rode past the last few farmhouses, his eyes scanning the horizon, making sure he was on the right trail.
Since he was rely depending on mory to find this spot, he needed to concentrate.
A few minutes later, he found it. A specific cluster of withered trees near a dried-up irrigation ditch.
"Here," Percival murmured, pulling on the reins.
Argus ca to a halt, his hooves clacking against the hard-packed earth.
Percival stared at the spot, mories swimming in his tired mind.
To anyone else, this was just a patch of bad dirt. But Percival rembered what this place was, or what it was about to be.
The reason he was here.
This was where the Rending Marsh would open.
In his previous tiline, this Gate World had been a disaster for Luvengart.
It was an Alpha Gate. That ant danger.
Alpha Gates led into A-Rank Gate Worlds. If the beasts inside these Gate Worlds were to spill out, the city could be under threat of extinction.
Percival rembered the chaos.
He rembered his teacher, Master Omares, assigning him to a smaller unit behind the Heaven’s Blade Guild, pitting them against rival Guilds in a frantic, bloody race of clearing the Gate World.
Everyone wanted the sa things: the ownership rights, the Aspect, and most importantly, the Basilisk Blade.
That sword...
The Basilisk Blade was an A-Grade Weapon.
In his past life, he had watched the leader of the Golden Spire team claim it, and he had seen it in an auction weeks later, sold for 300 gold.
It was a fair price especially since Percival knew what it could do.
Among other things, that sword was a major reason Percival was here.
The Basilisk Blade was the main reward of this dungeon, just like the Floating Circlet had been for the Kingdom of Thorns.
And this ti, Percival wasn’t going to watch soone else take it.
"This is the most dangerous Gate World challenge I’ve attempted since regressing," he whispered to the wind. "An A-Rank... solo."
He checked the position of the sun. It was high, beating down on the dry fields.
The Gate wasn’t here yet so he was early.
That was good. At least his sleepless travel wasn’t for nothing.
Using his knowledge of the future, Percival had decided to align his travels with the locations of specific Gate openings around the world.
High ranked ones that promised bountiful rewards and EXP so he could level up faster and own more powerful inventory.
It would be impossible to get the exact timing. But he had to make sure he was there on the day or the day before.
Entering a Gate World before it was cleared by anyone else had its nurous advantages.
All of which had combined to him coming up with this plan.
Percival’s body swayed. The exhaustion hit him again, a heavy wave that made his vision blur at the edges.
"Argus," he mumbled.
The skeletal horse turned its skull to him, blue flas flickering in its sockets.
"I’m going to rest. Wake up when the Gate opens, alright?"
Argus let out a low, rattling grunt of acknowledgent.
Percival leaned back against the horse’s flank, crossing his arms. He closed his eyes, letting the darkness take him, but his mind remained partially tethered to reality.
Grunt.
Argus shifted, his skull turning slightly toward a patch of tall grass about fifty ters away.
"I know," Percival whispered without opening his eyes. "Soone is watching us. A spy sent by Baron Eutheo I guess. A Wind Assassin. I noticed how uneven the wind had been."
He sighed, uninterested. "Let them watch. We haven’t done anything illegal. I’m just a traveler taking a nap. A well-earned... nap."
Almost imdiately, Percival’s consciousness dropped off a cliff.
—---—
NEIGH!!
"Eugh!"
Percival jolted awake, his heart hamring against his ribs. He sat up, gasping for air, his hand gripping his sword that had been resting on his chest.
"Bad dream..." he muttered, wiping cold sweat from his forehead.
NEIGH!
Argus reared up, his hooves striking the earth.
Percival looked up. The dry wind had stopped.
Right on the spot, the Gate was swirling violently, crimson and ugly like stagnant blood.
"It’s here," Percival said, his weariness vanishing under a surge of adrenaline.
He got down from Argus and walked toward the tear. As he approached the swirling crimson energy, his interface relayed its description.
⸢Dungeon Na: The Rending Marsh⸥
⸢Rank: Alpha Gate (A-Rank)⸥
⸢Description: This hell is built on scales and reptilian wrath⸥
Percival scoffed. "Isn’t that ominous."
"By the Gods!"
A shout erupted from behind him. Percival turned his head.
A local farr, carrying a hoe, stood at the edge of the field. His face was pale, his eyes wide with terror as he stared at the crimson vortex swirling in the middle of his land.
"A Gate World!" the farr yelled, dropping his tool. "I—I have to inform Gatewatch imdiately!"
The man spun on his heel and sprinted back toward the city, his screams already echoing toward the distant walls.
Percival turned back to the Gate.
Once Gatewatch was alerted, the Guilds would swarm. All hungry to claim this resource.
"Better hurry up now," Percival muttered and stepped into the crimson circle.
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