Wright had purchased most of the land in and around Myr, the contracts were signed, and the money had been collected by the Magisters. Last night, public notices had been posted throughout the city.
By next month, the Tyroshi navy would take over Myr's coastal defenses, and the city's law enforcement would also be temporarily replaced by Tyroshi forces.
Whether the Magisters distributed the sale proceeds to the nobles and slave owners was their business. Wright had paid and held legitimate contracts—Myr's land was now his, including the white castle at the heart of the city. Next month, if anyone still refused to vacate the land, Wright would have them thrown into prison. If they couldn't pay fines, they'd have to serve several years of forced labor.
The fighting outside did not disturb Wright, who was temporarily staying in the council castle. When he was awakened by the noise, he simply followed his usual morning routine. However, his personal guards were all on edge.
After washing up and dressing, Wright intended to head to the port and board a ship back to Tyrosh, but his subordinates stopped him immediately.
Balon was the first to rush to Wright's side. "Lord Wright, the situation outside is unclear. We can't tell who's fighting whom. If we leave recklessly, we might get caught in the crossfire."
Wright replied, "My ship is still in the port. What happens if we don't get there?"
Aurane, who was walking while brushing his long hair—his usual routine already disrupted by the morning's chaos—immediately understood Balon's reasoning. He quickly added, "Lord Wright, naval protocol states that if a docked ship is in a conflict zone but not directly involved, the captain's first order is to set sail and wait in coastal waters for further instructions."
Wright wasn't well-versed in the navy's regulations, but since his subordinates were urging him to stay put, and they weren't in a state of war, he didn't force the issue.
He gestured for them to follow him to the castle's balcony. Looking down at the city, they saw flames burning everywhere, and people engaged in battle. Wright pointed at the streets and asked Aurane, "Myr is in chaos, and I can sense with magic that many of the servants have fled the castle. In a few hours, we won't even have lunch! We might not want to get involved, but can any of you guarantee this will be over in a day? What if it drags on for a month?"
Aurane didn't answer directly. Instead, he turned to the others. "Balon, send a few of our guards to gather information. Find out which Magisters are still here, which have fled, and what nobles remain in the castle."
Balon wasn't as quick-witted, but Aurane's words made sense. Seeing Wright nod in agreement, he immediately sent out twenty guards in four squads to scout.
It didn't take long before they hurried back. A squad leader stepped forward and reported to Wright.
"Lord Wright, the situation in the castle is bad."
"Have some water first, then tell me the details."
After gulping down the water Balon handed him, the squad leader wiped his mouth and continued, "Myr had seven Magisters in total. Three fled to their family fortresses last night, two are packing to escape, one is missing, and another's head is displayed on a pike outside the castle."
"Disputes over spoils," Aurane muttered.
Wright said, "As expected, but still surprising. I figured Myr would descend into chaos for a while, but I didn't think the Magisters would be so useless. The entire city is out of control! When disaster strikes, a fragmented council government like this always collapses from within first."
Just then, they all smelled something burning. Turning to look down from the balcony, they saw thick black smoke rising—the castle's main gate was on fire. A large crowd had gathered, piling wooden furniture against the heavy wooden gate and setting it ablaze. Some were even pouring oil on the flames. They clearly wouldn't stop until the gate was breached.
"There's no need for me to give orders—you all know what to do. Get to the port immediately!" Wright had no intention of staying any longer.
"Guards, form up! Prepare for combat!" Balon unstrapped his great battle-axe and started giving orders.
Aurane, Theon, and Wendel also took up their weapons, surrounding Wright and preparing for battle.
The castle had more than just the main gate—there were servants' entrances as well. When Wright led his group through one, they saw people rushing out from the kitchens and servant quarters, carrying stolen goods as they fled.
Outside the rear entrance was a circular moat, with a small drawbridge already lowered.
"We need to cross the bridge and head west!" Balon took the lead, clearing the path.
Wright glanced at the smoke-covered city, then raised a hand. A fireball streaked toward the west.
The spell's trajectory was a bit wobbly, but in broad daylight, it didn't attract much attention. Only when it exploded above the port did it draw eyes toward the sky.
The ship had already left port, but the signal was clear—Wright was calling them back.
"Balon, raise my banner!"
"Understood!"
Apart from a single wooden cart, the group carried few belongings, and the folded banners were strapped to the backs of each of the personal guards. Once twenty banners of the World Archipelago were unfurled, the Myrmen who had initially set their sights on Wright quickly restrained themselves.
When a man loses all his wealth, when his wife and children are gone, his home is destroyed, and he has nowhere to seek justice, desperation turns him into something even more extreme. At that point, titles like Lord, magic, or dragons mean nothing—revenge and plunder become the only things left in his mind.
Wright and his personal guard crossed the drawbridge westward and arrived at a street intersection, where barricades made of debris blocked all three paths. The barriers were taller than a man, with many armed individuals standing atop them or on nearby rooftops, flaunting their weapons. From the houses on either side, furniture was being tossed onto the street, the sound of clashing blades echoed in the air, and the anguished cries of women filled the surroundings.
"Drop your weapons and armor!" A finely dressed man on the road pointed at Wright's group and shouted.
"You dare challenge a Tyroshi Lord? Tired of living?"
Towering and fierce, Balon ordered the personal guards to dismantle the barricades while he strode forward, gripping his battle-axe in one hand.
"I don't care if you're Tyroshi lord or not, this is our turf now! If you want to pass, leave everything valuable behind. If not, well—see that over there? That's what happens!" He gestured with his longsword toward the street corner.
Balon and the others turned their heads. What had once been a three-story stone shop with a balcony now had severed heads hanging beneath it. Charred black by flames, the heads were stuffed into net sacks, each containing a dozen or more. At first, even Wright failed to recognize what they were.
Upon witnessing such cruelty, Balon raised his battle-axe and roared, "We are not Myrmen! Let us through, and we'll pretend we never saw your crimes. Refuse, and I will slaughter you all!"
"This sack here holds my wife's head. That one, my daughter's. I thought selling them would be enough to pay off my debts, but the interest kept growing—every single day, higher and higher… hahaha!" The man did not respond to Balon but instead pointed at the net sacks with his sword, laughing hysterically.
"They've gone mad—driven insane by their creditors! These people have rough hands and dark skin; even in fancy clothes, it's clear they're no nobles. They must have looted those garments after killing someone," Aurane whispered to Wright.
And it wasn't just this man. All of Myr was in chaos—some killed mindlessly, others looted, some sought revenge for past grievances, while others schemed to rise in power by eliminating noble rivals. Their humanity was slipping away, replaced by desperation.
"Wendel, you're not wearing armor, so don't charge in first," Wright cautioned, realizing that battle was inevitable. Only two among them lacked armor, so he gave a warning.
"Lord Wright, I may be slow, but I'm strong!" Wendel shifted his double-headed battle-axe to his right hand and crouched down, picking up a broken door panel to use as a shield.
"Using a two-handed axe with one hand… impressive strength!" Wright remarked, though he knew Wendel's endurance wouldn't last. But now was not the time to dampen his men's morale.
As Wright prepared for combat, Aurane and Theon also drew their longswords. All eyes were on Balon, waiting for the moment he struck—the signal for the entire guard to charge.
A man standing on a rooftop, armed with a longbow, suddenly called out, "So it really is the Tyroshi Lord! How imposing! Myr is in ruins, and now you're here to slaughter us all and seize our land?"
Seeing that the man recognized him and spoke with some intelligence, Wright asked, "Who are you?"
The man appeared to be in his forties, with dark circles under his eyes and an unkempt beard. He bellowed, "Me? I was Myr's greatest lace manufacturer! I had a grand mansion by the Myr River, filled with thirty beautiful women. And now, it's all yours, Lord Wright!"
"I did buy a mansion by the river from the Magisters yesterday, and I paid according to the contract," Wright responded coldly. He still remembered the property because the owner had insisted on selling it along with the women who lived there. He hadn't expected the man to be standing before him now.
"But when I went to the Magisters yesterday, they gave me nothing! Not a single coin—just a worthless bank bond!" The man's voice grew increasingly agitated.
Wright's face darkened. "That's your problem with the Magisters, not me. Step aside and let us through."
"It's all your fault! You gave them the money—if not for you, they wouldn't have had the means to flee!" His hands trembled as he held his bow, not yet drawn. His rational mind told him an arrow wouldn't harm Wright, but then another thought took root—he had nothing left to lose. And what if, by some miracle, he managed to kill Wright? Would he not become a hero?
"What kind of twisted logic is that?" Wright scoffed, having no patience for a lunatic. Ice coalesced in his hands, forming into a long spear of frost.
This demon wreaking havoc in Myr had been unleashed by none other than himself. And now, as he watched the city descend into madness, he realized—perhaps it would have been better to have the dragons burn it all to ash. Instant death would have been kinder.
As this thought crossed his mind, the dagger on his belt began to tremble rhythmically.
The world around him seemed to slow, as if time had come to a halt. Only he could move.
The drifting black smoke froze in midair, and the burning flames seemed to solidify onto the wood as if they had become tangible.
Wright looked down at his arm, which moved freely, then lifted his gaze forward. Balon's battle-axe had already lowered, its blade touching the ground. The veins on his hand gripping the axe handle bulged, ready to cleave the man who had spoken.
Aurane pointed his sword at another rooftop, having spotted several hidden archers. Theon gripped his Nightfall with both hands, his body already poised for a charge. His mouth was open wide, ready to shout something. Wendel held up a wooden doorboard as a shield, preparing to stand in front of Wright.
A powerful surge of magic pulsed from the dagger at Wright's waist. 'Dagon? No, his power hadn't yet reached the level to stop time in another world.' Wright focused on his body and the magic within him, soon realizing that it wasn't the world's time that had stopped—his own body and mind had been accelerated! Dagon was using magic through the dagger he had given Wright.
"Dagon?" Wright picked up the dagger.
A voice emanated from it: "Dragonborn, charge in! Kill them all!"
Wright responded, "I'm no demon! These are civilians, not soldiers."
"They've taken up arms against you—they are your enemies! You seek to conquer this place, don't you? Kill them now! Slaughter them all with your dragon, and be done with it!" Dagon's voice was relentless in its temptation.
Wright countered, "If they all die, what use is an empty city to me?"
"It doesn't matter if they die—I can transform their souls. In the future, they will still serve you." To a demon god, such things were trivial.
Wright scoffed, "Turn them into monsters or the undead? I am a man, not a demon."
"You've personally slain tens of thousands, enchanted weapons with human souls, and dealt in death and soul manipulation. Tell me, what truly separates your actions from those of a so-called demon?" The voice was laced with mockery.
Wright remained silent.
"With such immense power, why play these games of scheming and deceit? Eradicate them all and rule this world yourself! What do you say?" The Daedric Prince's voice was as seductive as ever.
Fortunately, Wright had never entertained the idea of being a tyrant. If he gave in to Dagon's words, he would gradually become his pawn, his soul inevitably sinking into darkness. Without hesitation, Wright retorted, "Dagon, our relationship is nothing more than a transaction. If you want this world, come take it yourself. I won't do your dirty work."
"Dragonborn, you grow more intriguing by the day! I will always be watching you!" The demon god's voice gradually faded, and the magic from the dagger dissipated. Wright's senses returned to normal.
Theon, who had been standing with his mouth agape, finally managed to shout, "Lord Wright, watch out for arrows!"
Arrows rained down from the rooftops, but Wendel blocked them with his makeshift shield. At the front, Balon turned his head at Aurane's warning. Seeing that the enemy had already begun their attack, he spun back around, raised his massive axe, and bellowed, "I'll split you in half!"
With Balon charging into battle, Theon and the rest of the guards followed suit to assist him.
Wendel stayed by Wright's side with his shield raised, while Aurane didn't rush into the fight. Instead, he stood before Wright with his sword in hand, gave a formal salute, and solemnly declared, "Lord Wright, leave this battle to us. We'll clear the entire street within half an hour."
Wright still held his ice spear. Aurane knew that if Wright truly fought, there would be no battle left for them. If he spoke, the entire street would be wiped out. This was their chance to claim credit for themselves!
Fresh from his exchange with the demon god, Wright had lost interest in fighting. He nodded, then stepped onto a barricade to observe their battle.