CHAPTER 1
ENTER THE CITY
“Wake up, stupid boy!”
From deep in the dreamscape, a sharp booming voice rang out. It rattles cute butterflies, topples majestic towers, and split the hazy wavy world in half.
“Ah!”
Inside a small room, a surprised cry sounded, followed by a loud thud.
A young man, sleepy and sheepish, scratch his messy black hair as he sat up from the ground. He rubbed his sore shoulders, and climbed back up onto the bed. However, before his head can touch the soft pillow again, the sharp voice rang out again.
“Get up quickly. Don’t forget, you have a trip in town today.”
At the mention of his trip, Masco’s eyes snapped opened.
Oh shoot! Almost forgot!
The young man bolted from his bed, and ran into the bathroom. Soon, the sound of splashing water filled the room, breaking the lazy morning tranquility.
Half an hour later, Masco had arrived at the foot of the stairs. By now, his shabby appearance was gone, replaced by his usual charming looks.
The young man appeared to be in his early twenties. His neatly combed black hair, caught in the blooming sunlight light, glistens in warm, soft strands. His skin was silky smooth, almost porcelain-like, giving him an ethereal quality even in the simplest of surroundings. His face was extraordinarily beautiful—delicate yet refined, with subtle features that made it impossible not to notice.
Though the young man’s clothes were simple, their cleanliness and careful tailoring made them look almost exquisite as they naturally clings around his fit and slender figure.
Next to the stairs was a simple living room, consisting of a lounge chair, a coffee table, and a very worn-out sofa. Sitting leisurely in a lounge chair is a young woman. She has golden blonde hair that cusp her gorgeous face, huge curly locks that drapes wildly over her shoulders, and a fashionable purple gown that trails all over the floor. In her hands was a large leather-bound book, opened in the middle and filled with some unknown scripts. Evidently, the woman had been reading it until now.
Upon seeing Masco, the woman’s lips curled up into a smile—amusing, expectant, poisonous.
“Finally. Stop dilly-dallying and go already. That old horse would have driven off by now had I not pursue him to wait.” She threw a small pouch towards Masco. “That’s your travel fee. Hurry up and get the hell out. You can buy yourself food when you get to the city.”
As soon as the words left her mouth, the woman turned back to her book. Her demeanor instantly shifted to an aloof and distant ice sculpture, no longer interested in the person or the world before her.
Tying the pouch full of coins to his waist, Masco quickly walked out of the front door.
No greetings or goodbyes. No words necessary.
Outside the old-fashioned two-story house, a horse-drawn cart, the crude kind used to deliver vegetable to the market, was waiting.
At the front of the cart, a middle-aged man sat, his straw hat tilting slightly in the morning sun.
“Hello, Van. How are you?” Masco asked as he climbed aboard the cart.
The driver, Van, did not respond. Instead he pulled the reign on the horse, starting the cart forward. His eyes glassy and vacant, his motions practiced and robotic. As the cart moves, Masco, despite not getting a reply, continues to speak in a gentle voice.
“It sure is a lovely day today. It’s such a rare occasion to have such weather here in The Swamp. Shame I can’t just spend the day playing. Alas, we each have our duties… I wonder what’s the weather is like in city?”
The cart moves quickly and efficiently. Surrounded by swamplands and muddy terrains, the cart, as if pushed by many invisible hands, effortlessly climbed passed all obstacles and arrived at the main road.
As the cart entered the main road, Masco pulled out a thin white veil and covered his face. His appearance, still graceful, were no longer as striking, concealed by a thin piece of silk.
Every experienced traveler, Masco thought, must learn this valuable lesson well.
Good looks are a weapon, a treasure, a natural wonder of limitless potential.
It is also a source of disaster.
Especially on the road.
---
Two hours later, the cart arrived outside of Lepus City.
Lepus City, also known as the Coastal Gem of the East.
Located on the eastern shore of the Great Continent of Karadys, this once simple fishing village has now become a centralized commercial and military powerhouse. Its massive walls, sentry’s towers, and extensive network of connecting roads, splayed out over the natural landscapes like an giant tentacled behemoth, attracting travelers far and wide with sweet promises of fortune and fun.
In front of Lepus City’s Main Gate, there was a long line. Huge numbers of people and vehicles, animal-drawn cart, carriages, wagons, even riders on horseback, were waiting to enter the city. Crowding and impatient, they pushed and shoved against each other, causing more and more congestion, until they completely blocking the way.
On his humble little cart, Masco frowned
He hasn’t had any breakfast as of yet, and his stomach is making the most uncouth of sounds. This situation simply cannot go on. These people are free to stand here all day long and frolic as long as they wish, but he must get in at once.
With a swift motion, Masco jumped off the cart, and turned to the driver.
“Van, you can go back home for today.” Masco untied the pouch of coins on his hips and placed it over Van’s lap. “Take this as compensation for today. I’m sorry that you had to missed a day of work for me. Not that you’d remember, haha. Hopefully you’ll feel better after you wake up.”
Snaps.
The second Masco snapped his fingers, the driver, as if he’d received instruction and still without a single word, immediately turned the cart around and head back the way he came. The young man saw the receding cart and let out a small sigh. After sitting for hours on that bumpy cart, he really didn’t want to walk the rest of the way in.
Despite his silent protest, Masco rushed forward. He darted from carriage to carriage, horse to horse, like a fish in water, weaving in every which way, slipping past most of the people in line before they can notice him.
By the time Masco’s feet finally stopped, he arrived at the Main Gate.
In front of the gate, a long table was laid out with a few city guards standing around it. One of the guards noticed the strangely veiled young man.
“Halt! Identify yourself!”
The guard extended a hand and blocked the path forward. Seeing the strange boy did not reply to his question and showed no sign of fear, the guard became impatient.
“Show me your identification papers! State what business you have in our city!”
“My business?” A sweet and mesmerizing voice, as soft as moonlight wrapped in silk, drifted over to the guard’s ears. Instantly, the guard’s expression froze, along with all the other whisperings nearby. Everyone within earshot snapped their heads over, gazing at the source of the sound.
Their eyes all fell upon a veiled young man, thin and delicate, looking like fragile glass being surrounded by a group of tall and burly guards. The clothes on the boy’s back were common, and did not resemble anything a nobleman would wear. Aside from the unique voice and the strange white veil, the young man appeared as your regular cabbage peasant.
Judging by the guard’s tone just now, this young man had most likely offended him. The price to pay for such an act was not merely denial of entry, but a hefty fine and even imprisonment. Once locked inside the dark halls of the dungeon, who knows what other torturous things may occur. The eyes on the young man were filled with pity.
Still, no one came over to help, for the guards of Lepus City was notorious for their greedy, selfish, and wanton nature. Though the young man’s voice had surprised many, this was not enough for them to risk their life to save a stranger.
As for those who can, they merely scoffs.
Dispersed among the crowds and lines were a few luxuriously designed horse-drawn carriages. No doubt the people riding them possessed enough status that not even the guards dare offends.
If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.
Yet, none of them move forward. They remains inside their respective carriages, either glancing at the front with eyes that wanted to watch a good show, or not paying any attention at all.
The silence stretches for half a minute. No one came forward, no one talked. Just when everyone thought that the veiled young man was too scared to speak, his feet moved.
He walked closer to the guard, their faces were mere inches away.
“My business is...”
The white veil only covers the bottom half of the young man’s face. His eyes, fully revealed and opened wide, locked onto the guard’s. If the young man’s voice can enchant the senses, then his eyes can captivate even the soul. Big and shiny, they sparkles like starlight, illuminating the darkest reaches of a man’s heart.
“…Something so very important.” The young man’s voice lowered and trails off slightly. His big round eyes moistened in the mid-morning sun. “So please, won’t you let me in?”
The guard swallowed, “Gulp. I-I still ne-needs to see your letter—ah, I mean paper, ah—I mean identification paper.”
“Identification paper?” The young man made a puzzled expression, “but that’s never been a requirement before.”
“That’s… that’s…” The guard face was flushed, words barely able to come out of his mouth now. “…That’s a… new thing…”
“A new thing?” Masco scanned the people around him.
In the front, several of the other guards are averting their gaze, their cheeks blushing slightly. In their hands, a set of paper with densely packed words, signed off by a large distinctive official-looking red stamp.
Behind Masco, a few merchants are waiting for their turn. They also carried folded pieces of papers, each tinged with red marks from the stamp that had bled through.
“Then how do I get my identification papers?” Masco asked.
Before the guard could choke out a response, another voice rang out from behind Masco. “You can’t. At least, not right now.”
Turning around, Masco saw a tall man, dressed in black and gold military attire. He stands at 6'4", the kind of height that commands attention even before his uniform does. Broad-shouldered and muscular built, he carries the unmistakable posture of someone shaped by years of disciplined training. Back straight, movements precise, the man has an unmistakable and undeniable grounding presence, striking purpose in every step he takes.
His hair is a clean and short, shimmering with a natural golden blond that catches the light like sunlit sand, softening an otherwise sharp and ruthless appearance.
Aside from his attire, the man’s face also give Masco pause.
His features have that chiseled and heroic quality—high cheekbones, a straight nose, and a calming focus look. His eyes are steely blue, sharp and observant, making it obvious he notices little details.
The man walked towards the guard’s table and place down his own identification paper. “This is a new policy set by the City Lord of Lepus City. If you want to get in, you have to apply with the local magistrate of your town, then wait three weeks for processing.”
Local magistrate? Three weeks?!
Masco is becoming increasingly irritated.
But there’s no magistrate in The Swamp. The whole Swamp belongs to Melodia, and that old hag can’t possibly be bother with human bureaucracy.
Urgh, how bothersome.
Maybe I should just…
Perhaps Masco had been standing in silence for too long, but the tall man mistook his irritated expression for a troubled one.
“If you really need to enter the city, I might be able to help you.” The man said, his face remain icy and expressionless, “Just tell me the reason why you need to enter.”
The strong, deep, and warm baritone of the man’s voice snapped Masco back from internal rant.
“No need. I don’t like owing people.”
Without saying anything else, Masco turned towards the closest guard, stares him directly the eyes, and whispered, “Let me through.”
For a moment, the air stills.
The birds stopped singing.
In the clear, windless morning, a strange feeling ripples in the air.
The guard, whose face had been blushing mere moments ago, suddenly faltered. His eyes stares into the distant, a glassy look covered his pupils. Like an obedient puppet, he uietly stepped aside and let the veiled man passed. The rest of the guards were all looking elsewhere, acting normally without any difference, as if they couldn't see what was happening.
No longer blocked with any hindrance, Masco quickly make a beeline into the city.
Watching the young man’s back disappeared behind the heavy gate doors, the tall man’s eyes narrowed. However, before he could comment on it any further, another guard from the registry table rushed up to him with a piece of stamped paper in hand.
“General Asurn, we have completed your paperwork. Please enter the city posthaste. The City Lord has been waiting for you.”
Karan Asurn nodded. He took back his identification paper and turned around, signaling for his convoy to enter the city.
The military convoy, consisting of many men in combat uniforms, each unyielding and focused, moved with practiced precision like an impenetrable shield, efficiently marches around the long queue of waiting people and advanced into the city.
The last to enter was Karan. As he moved past the guard’s table, he turned to looked at the guard that had interacted with the strange young man, and ultimately defying orders to let him through.
It was unknown what the young man had said, but the guard’s behavior seemed to take an odd turn. The guard, being reprimanded by his superior, remains quiet and docile. Afterward, he seemingly abandoned his duties as he sat, slopes against the city’s outer wall, with his head down, unresponsive.
That boy… Karan thoughts swirl. Maybe it's best to keep an eye out for him.
---
Chomp! Chew, chew, chew.
Gulp.
“Phew! This is great, lady.”
A young man, with a white veil on his face, sat under the shade of a tall oak tree, next to a sandwich stall. Despite the cumbersome veil on his face, the young man nimbly and elegantly devour the sandwiches he had just bought, without so much as a single crumb falling out of place.
“Calm down child, careful not to choke.” The stall owner, a chubby old woman, scolded in a half-exasperated and half-amused tone. “You acted like you’ve haven’t ever eaten a sandwich before.”
“I really haven’t,” Masco shook his head, “not one this good. Or maybe it’s because I’ve been starving all day, haha. I’m not sure. In any case, these are super good!”
The old stall owner stares blankly for a second before her face broke out in a genuine smile, “Well, aren’t you a sweet boy. Tell you what, I never do this, but I’ll give you a few more for the road if you’re still so hungry.”
The young man’s eyes got big, “Really? Chew. Gulp. Thanks lady. This was the last of my coins, I was thinking I’ll have to settle for the special air-only diet tonight. You really saved me.”
“Oh you poor thing.” The stall owner lamented as she wrapped the remaining sandwiches in a bag, “Why did you come to this city of you are penniless? Don’t you know that’s everything is so expensive here? Where did you even come from anyway?”
After finishing the last sandwich in his hands, the young man licked his lips. “I came from the northwest, near The Swamp. I came to the city for work.”
The stall owner paused, her face darkened. “The Swamp? What’s a sweet boy like you doing in a horrible place like that?” She turned towards Masco, took his hand, places a bag of sandwiches into his palm. Before Masco could take back his hand, however, the stall owner pulled him closer.
“Now listen here. You best stay clear of that Swamp, you hear? Rumors has it that there’s a nasty monstrous witch in that place.” She spoke, her voice tinged with worry. “Many adventurers have gone there and never return. It’s best if you just stay in the city and never go near it again—”
The old stall owner caught herself and stopped speaking.
She looked hesitantly at the person before her, wondering how he would react. Although she knew it was a bit presumptuous to offer unsolicited advice to a stranger she just met, but… this boy was just too precious. It would be terrible if something bad happens to him. Besides, chances are this young man won’t do as he is told. No doubt, most young people nowadays are eager for an adventure and would never take the words of an old lady seriously.
Unexpectedly, contrary to the hot-bloodedness and rebellious nature of boys his age, the young man merely nodded, his voice as sweet as honey, “Yes ma’am. I’ll be sure to stay away from such a horrible place in the future. Don’t you worry.”
Seeing how her efforts weren’t wasted, the old woman’s expression softened, her body visibly relaxed. “Good. Remember, that Swamp is not a good thing.”
After a good five minutes of reassuring the old stall owner, Masco heads off with a bag of sandwiches, filled to the brim, swinging between his fingers.
---
The midday sun beats down on the Outer Districts of Lepus City.
The directly connected to the city’s walls, the Outer District sprawled inward like an unruly patchwork of crooked rooftops and sun-faded awnings. Narrow lanes of rocky dirt roads twisted between dilapidated shacks and makeshift dwellings built from withered scavenged scraps.
Despite the frayed edges of poverty clawing at every corner, life thrives here.
The air buzzed with noise—hagglers arguing over bruised fruit, children darting through crowds with bell-like laughter, and merchants hawking from behind simple market stalls. Smoke curled from cookfires, carrying the mingled scents of fragrant broth and frying dough. Laundry flapped from lines strung across alleys like flags of survival, fluttering in the smog.
In the distance, a gigantic structure resembling a stone gate looms, an archway, leading to the Inner District of the city. A large convoy was currently passing through there, and their commander, ever straight-faced and reserved, kept glancing around from time to time as if searching for something.
Back in the Outer District, a strange young man was cheerfully sauntering around in the dusty streets.
Under the surprise gazes of the local residents, the young man began passing out food.
Sandwiches to be exact.
He handed one to each street urchin wandering the streets and skulking through the alleys, their small hands snapping at the offering like desperate birds.
One went to each homeless person huddled beneath a shaded eave, their faces streaked with dirt and soot, eyes wary, guarded, and doubtful.
One to each sick and infirmed, who reached out with trembling fingers, clutching the meager meal as if it could stave off the weeks’ worth of hunger.
Some of the children had already bit down before Masco could even take a step back, crumbs spilling onto his dusty boots. An old man muttered a hoarse “thank you,” more surprised than grateful. The merchants barely looked up, but their fingers lingered on their coinpurses. Rats scuttled through the shadows, drawn by the scraps that fell, carrying a stench of trash and rot that mingled with the aroma of bread.
By the time the last sandwich had been given away, the streets were still rough, ragged, and loud—but slightly softer, as though a simple act of kindness had pushed back the years of grime and hardship, if only for a moment.
The young man lowered his eyes, not meeting the stare of any onlookers. Instead, his lips curved up politely, and he walked away, quickly slipping into the shadows of a nearby alley.
Now, thought Masco as he lightly treads forward on the dark and dirty earthen path, I should really find an inn soon. My feet are so sore already.
First, find an inn.
Next, get a good rest.
Finally, kill the City Lord.
