The transport carriage rattled along the worn road, the journey stretching five to six hours before the fortress city finally came into view. Edric stirred awake by the sound of creaking wood and shifting wheels, his limbs still stiff protesting as he sat up. He peered through the carriage window, catching his first glimpse of the fortress city Muris Magnus.

  The fifty-foot walls loomed over the road like silent sentinels, the stone surface had a history hidden beneath the scorch marks and deep cracks. Scars from who know’s how many battles this city withstood. At the gates, guards in black and brown uniforms stood watch, the crest of the city emblazoned on their chests. Behind Edric, a long line of carriages and weary travelers stretched into the distance, all silently waiting to enter.

  His gaze drifted back to the walls. The sheer size of them made him wonder.How did the guards even get to the top? As the carriage rolled forward, he noticed something strange. There were no buildings past the first gate. Only a vast stretch of open land, lined with barracks and patrols. Then, ahead, another wall smaller than the first but still formidable.

  Muris Magnus wasn’t just a city; it was a layered fortress. A fortress mean to survive even if was attacked on all sides.

  According to his mother’s book and the system’s knowledge, the city was built as the first line of defense against outside threats. The outermost wall, the largest, was built to hold off sieges. Beyond it lay a “kill zone,” an open expanse designed to trap invaders under a rain of arrows. The second wall was the gateway to the true city, standing as the final barrier between civilization and death.

  As the carriage approached the second gate, Edric took a good look at the massive crimson-wood doors, carved with the emblem of Muris Magnus. Just like it’s purpose , the crest contained a caricature of walls and a man with a shield.

  Knock kncok. Someone knocked on the carriage.

  “Alright, take out your papers,” an officer ordered, stepping inside. His expression was unreadable, his tone sharp and his gaze deadly.

  One by one, the officer checked the documents of the passengers. When it was Edric’s turn, he quickly pulled out the forged identity papers Garrick had provided. A stray thought crossed his mind.

  how did a tavern keeper even know how to forge documents?

  Before he could dwell on it, the officer’s impatient voice cut through his thoughts.

  “Papers.”

  He handed them over, doing his best not to look suspicious. Hopefully, he wouldn’t end up in another fight—he’d had more than enough of those recently.

  The officer skimmed the documents, then narrowed his eyes. “State your name.”

  “Edrous Ruthfield.” The words left Edric’s mouth before he could hesitate.

  For a brief moment, the officer just stared at him. Edric felt chills roll down his spine with every passing second. Then suddenly, with a curt nod, he returned the papers.

  THUCK!

  A loud crash was heard from behind him. Edric turned just in time to see a middle-aged woman escaping from a carriage window, her breathing frantic as she hit the ground running.

  “Catch her!” a guard yelled.

  The woman dashed for the trees,her movements frantic and was full of desperation. But she never stood a chance. The officers caught up within seconds, one of them grabbing her by the hair and yanking her back. As they dragged her toward their superior. She screamed loud enough for her throat to get hoarse.

  Rough hands tore through her ragged clothes, searching for anything—documents, money, anything that might justify her existence here . But she had nothing.

  The senior officer sneered. “Trying to sneak in without papers, ya?” He wrapped his gloved hand around her throat, squeezing hard enough for viens to be visable. “This is what happens to strays.”

  Then they beat her. Mercilessly

  A fist to the ribs caused an unforgettable crack. A boot to the face. A sickening crack as her nose split open, blood trickled down her face.

  She barely made a sound. She couldn’t or else what they will do.

  Edric’s breath caught in his throat. His fingers curled into fists, nails digging into his palms. He wanted to shout, to do something, anything but then he looked around. No one moved an inch. The expression remained the same.

  Some averted their eyes, some pretending they hadn’t seen anything, others just relieved that it wasn’t them.

  His stomach twisted.

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  “Drag this trash away.” The officer ordered his two lackeys, who dragged the poor woman away to who know where and just like that she was gone.

  Edric exhaled slowly, forcing himself to turn away. Some things were better ignored.

  “Alright, go in.”

  The carriage rolled forward, passing through the gates and into the heart of Muris Magnus

  Beyond the towering walls, Muris Magnus unfolded in layers of stone and steel, a city shaped by war and wealth. The streets closest to the gates were rough and uneven, their cobblestones cracked, caked with dust, and poorly maintained. People reflected their surroundings—clad in tattered clothing, their faces lined with exhaustion and old scars.

  But as the carriage rolled deeper into the city, the landscape transformed. The roads grew smoother, the buildings sturdier. Wood-and-steel homes lined the streets, their close-packed structures forming a maze of narrow alleys and busy storefronts. The people here looked better fed, better dressed, more secure.

  This was the middle-class district—the beating heart of Muris Magnus.

  The carriage pulled into the transport hub, a bustling square where carriages came and went in a constant rhythm. One by one, passengers disembarked, disappearing into the maze of streets.

  Edric stepped out, stretching his stiff limbs. The city stretched as far as his eyes could see.

  The sheer scale of it awed him—buildings stacked close together, streets packed with people moving in waves. Merchants haggled, cooks worked their stalls, laborers hauled crates, all bathed in the golden light of the setting sun.

  A notification flickered across his vision.

  [Location: Muris Magnus]

  [Population: 120,000+]

  "Over a hundred thousand people," Edric muttered.

  His stomach rumbled.

  ‘I should find a place to stay and leave tomorrow,’ he decided. Traveling for three days straight had left him sore, and while he wanted to head straight for the Veyra estate, wandering into the unknown at night was reckless. Plus the estate was at the other side of the kingdom.

  As he walked through the streets, he began to understand why people flocked here. Despite its slums, its ruthlessness, Muris Magnus was safe…as long as you had money and papers . Trade flourished, businesses thrived. Markets stretched across entire streets, stores displayed wares from across the continent, and an enormous trade center loomed in the distance.

  For a moment, the sight of it all stirred something within him.It reminded him of cities from his past life—New York, Tokyo. Cities which weren’t exactly paradise, but livable.

  The sky darkened, and the moon rose over Muris Magnus. Edric glanced at his system map, then followed a series of signs leading him through the district.

  Finally, he stopped in front of a five-story building with a worn but sturdy sign hanging above the entrance.

  "Lester’s Inn."

  Edric glanced up at its height. Each floor had a set of balconies and windows lined across the walls.

  “An inn? More like an apartment building,” he muttered.

  Edric stepped inside Lester’s Inn. It reminded him of the Iron Oak Tavern—just larger and noisier. A bar counter stood at the far end, flanked by dozens of tables packed with patrons. The waitstaff, all women in simple aprons, moved gracefully between the crowd, balancing trays of drinks and plates of steaming food.

  Edric raised an eyebrow.

  All male customers. Huh. Guess the owner knows exactly what he’s doing.

  Dragging out a chair, he dropped into an empty seat.

  "Good evening, sir. What would you like?"

  A soft, almost melodic voice interrupted his thoughts. Looking up, he met the eyes of a young waitress with golden hair and striking features. She could have been a magazine model back on Earth.

  Edric hesitated, realizing there was no menu in sight. To afraid to ask he defaulted to what he knew.

  "Bread, smoky meat, and beer."

  The waitress gave him a warm smile. "Of course, sir. I'll have it ready in a moment."

  As she left, Edric let his gaze drift around the room. Mercenaries, merchants, and even a few officers occupied the tables around him. The air was thick with conversations—some casual, some hushed , some rowdy.

  At a nearby table, two officers sat pouring their drinks.

  "The higher-ups are a pain in the ass," one muttered between sips. "They sit around all day barking orders while we do all the damn work."

  "Quiet down," the other officer warned, frowning. "You don’t want someone reporting you."

  "Yeah, yeah," the first one grumbled, glancing around. "But have you heard? Something happened at the merchant guild. And I hear—" he leaned in, lowering his voice, "some noble bastard died."

  His companion scoffed with utter disbelief. "You believe that?"

  Before Edric could hear more—

  "Here's your meal, sir."

  The waitress set a plate before him: tender meat, warm bread, and a frothy mug of beer. The smell alone made his stomach grumble.

  Still not as good as Garrick’s cooking, he thought, after taking a big bite for tasty meat.

  Then—

  BANG!

  The front door slammed open. The cold winds rushed through the establishment, sending a light shiver across the room.

  An officer barged in, his uniform damp with sweat. The room fell silent as he pulled a small, circular device from his pocket—about the size of a compass.He lifted it to his mouth.

  "Orders from the city watch!" His voice commanding, amplified through the device, rang across the inn.

  "As of sunrise tomorrow, no one enters or leaves Muris Magnus without direct authorization. All carriages, merchant transports, and personal travel are restricted until further notice."

  As the officer finished his sentence , the room fell silent.

  At the table beside Edric, the merchants exchanged nervous glances, one muttering a curse under his breath.

  Edric exhaled slowly.

  His journey had just become a lot more complicated.

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  Blood magic, ancient secrets, and a conspiracy to plunge the country into a war between people and forest spirits - she never imagined her rite of passage would result in any of these.

  Fia was eagerly awaiting her Bonding ritual with a forest spirit, as everyone in her family had done for generations, but everything turned into a nightmare in a flash. Terrifying otherworldly creatures appeared out of nowhere and attacked their village. When all seemed lost, a stranger and his magic horse came to the villagers’ rescue, but the victory left him hanging between life and death.

  Trying at once to find a cure for the cursed hero and fend off his annoying magical horse, Fia found herself caught in the crossfire of a grand, bloody game of politics and magic.

  ?╚═════ °? ? ?° ═════╝?