Further away, at the end of the trail, the walls of the Ozone Kingdom loomed in the mist. The faint light from the guard posts reflected through the raindrops, creating faint streaks of light.
Entering the city was a problem, without a permit or anything to prove one's identity, the only way was to enter illegally.
Flauros walked on the trail that gradually led to the main road leading to the city. The houses that had appeared sporadically now appeared more, it seemed that around the main wall, these villages did not have a very strict protection.
'This place reminds me of when I first time-traveled here...'
'Same tiled roofs, fields, and small roads like this...'
'It's just a deserted place with few people...'
'It's not as lively as this place'
Flauros couldn't help but sigh. The children happily played in the water despite their parents' complaints about their muddy hands and feet submerged in the rice fields.
The clanging and sparking sounds of the blacksmith's swords, the chanting and reading of the scholars in the library came through the window.
Everything was extremely cozy and close, because he used to be a farmer, living in this other world like them for a while before.
After going through many storms, seeing the familiar scene he had felt in the past, it brought a very close feeling and was strangely comfortable.
But there was something...
Something was not pleasant, something was not close to him...
'Maybe...'
'No matter how many years of experience in this place...'
'It still can't be like when I was on Earth, still can't be like the crowded streets with electric lights...'
This place wasn't it.
Flauros walked past the stalls of the afternoon market here, rain still dripping from his cloak onto the cobblestones. The Ozone stronghold was larger than he had imagined, with bustling streets despite the rain. People walked under wooden awnings, some wearing hoods or long cloaks to keep from getting wet.
He stopped by a small stall where a middle-aged man was selling vegetables and dried food. His eyes scanned the goods, but what he was looking for was not food.
Flauros asked
"Excuse me, is there a place here for travelers to stay overnight?"
The vendor looked up, observed him for a moment, and replied:
"If it's a place to rest, the best place to go is the 'Red Stone' trading company. They are both merchants and inns for travelers. Go straight along this road. After two turns, you will see a large building with a red stone symbol on its signboard."
Flauros nodded, without saying another word, and left.
The old man just smiled and continued to watch his stall, unable to help but sigh at his youth.
"Surely a young man who likes to travel around, youth, so memorable..."
The 'Red Stone' Trading Company was exactly as described: a sturdy two-story building with a large wooden door, a high signboard engraved with a sparkling red stone.
Inside, the space was spacious with shelves displaying all sorts of items for travelers, from cloaks, weapons, to herbal medicines.
In the farthest corner, a reception desk was located near the stairs leading to the upper floor, which was probably the guest accommodation area.
Flauros walked up to the counter, where a girl with high-tied brown hair, dressed simply but neatly, was arranging a few notebooks. Hearing footsteps, she looked up, her eyes sparkling:
"Welcome! Are you here to find a place to stay tonight?"
Flauros nodded slightly.
The girl flipped through the notebook, quickly checking for vacant rooms.
"We have a few rooms on the second floor. Standard rooms have beds, tables, chairs, and a fireplace. If you want a larger room, there are businesb-class rooms with a little more space."
Flauros thought silently for a moment and then replied, "A standard room is enough."
The girl nodded, took out a wooden key engraved with a number, and placed it on the counter.
"This is room number 7, on the second floor, at the end of the corridor. Breakfast is served from dawn to noon. If you need anything else, please let me or the manager know."
"Thank you."
He took the key, didn't say anything more, just nodded and left, heading towards the wooden stairs to the room.
The ceiling was high with shiny black wooden beams, hanging copper chandeliers, and the yellow candlelight cast a warm but mysterious light.
The thick, polished wooden floor made a dull sound with each step, proving the excellent quality of the material. The walls were built of solid gray stone, decorated with exquisitely embroidered tapestries depicting ancient legends of the merchant expeditions.
Right in the middle of the hall was a heavy oak reception desk, the tabletop smooth from years of use. Behind it was a wooden shelf filled with records, along with a few bottles of fine wine neatly placed in a drawer.
To the left of the counter was the display area, where robes hung on wooden racks, swords leaned neatly against the corners, and small potions were neatly arranged on shelves.
The stairs leading to the second floor were a true work of art. The wooden handrails were intricately carved, and each pattern had a classical feel. The wide steps were covered with a layer of dark red velvet carpet, both adding to the elegance and reducing noise when moving.
On the second floor, the long corridor was paved with wooden floors, with room doors on both sides numbered in embossed metal. On the walls, there were several paintings depicting distant landscapes, castles hidden in the morning mist, giving the feeling of standing in the middle of a world of wealthy merchants and ambitious adventurers.
Flauros also had to secretly exclaim, This place was indeed beautifully designed. Being close to the capital was different, everything was extremely splendid.
Even if this was a village, from the center of the village inward, it was much more prosperous than the surrounding towns. For example, the town of Sylies.
Opening the door, the scene inside was truly impressive. When opened, the interior space was illuminated by warm oil lamps, emitting a faint scent of wood and pine resin.
The dark wooden floor was cool underfoot, reflecting the soft light. A thick red carpet with gold patterns ran from the entrance to the middle of the room, where a round ebony table with two velvet-covered chairs was placed.
On the table was a small vase of dried flowers that gave off a light fragrance.
The bed was located against the wall opposite the window, a large bed with a sturdy wooden frame, and the four corners had round pillars carved with intricate patterns. The mattress was thick, covered with pure white sheets, above was a soft dark blue blanket, and a few velvet pillows.
Next to the bed was a tall wooden cabinet with elaborately carved drawers, large enough to hold the luggage of wealthy merchants or far-flung travelers. Next to the cabinet was a rack for hanging cloaks and weapons, a typical feature of rooms for adventurers.
A large glass window, heavily framed in wood, overlooked the small square in front of the guild. Raindrops rolled down the panes, reflecting the light from the twinkling street lamps. A thick, dark brown curtain hung down, which could be pulled back to block out the light if needed.
In the corner of the room was a stone fireplace, above which was a small shelf decorated with a few old books and a tea box. Next to the fireplace was a leather armchair, the perfect place to sit and rest or read a book in a warm space.
Everything in the room was refined and neat, not too luxurious but not lacking in comfort.
Although he had traveled all over the continent, the interior of this place was truly wonderful.
The sunset gradually disappeared behind the mountains, giving way to the cool night sky with silver moonlight sparkling in pieces on the water.
The night market was brightly lit, bustling, and full of life. The stalls were close together, selling all kinds of goods from food, spices, fabrics, to magical weapons and jewelry. The fragrant smell of grilled meat mixed with the strong scent of wine made the atmosphere even more attractive.
The cries of vendors, the sounds of bargaining, and the sounds of laughter mixed, creating a lively symphony of nightlife.
Among the bustling crowd were adventurers wearing dusty cloaks, their weapons glittering under the lights. Some sat gathered in front of roadside taverns, drinking giant glasses of beer, chatting animatedly about their journeys, monsters, or treasures.
Merchants with sharp eyes were also present, probing and negotiating for valuable items.
Flauros walked slowly through the narrow but bustling street, his eyes scanning the strange items that the merchants were selling.
Occasionally, he stopped to look at glowing magic stones, ancient magic books, or jewelry with a faint flow of mana. But nothing caught his attention.
Until he walked through a small alley, where the surrounding air suddenly became strange.
Mana fluctuated in the air, not strongly but clearly. Like an invisible wave creeping through the night, silently signaling the presence of something unusual.
Flauros stopped. His red eyes narrowed, looking into the darkness of the alley. The hustle and bustle of the market seemed to become more distant as he focused on sensing that abnormality.
A cold wind blew by, carrying the moisture of rain that had condensed on the paving stones. An eerie silence enveloped the alley, in stark contrast to the bustling atmosphere outside.
Flauros walked slowly forward, his leather shoes making soft sounds on the stone floor.
Flauros stopped at the entrance of the dark alley. Although the surrounding area was still bustling with the hustle and bustle of the night market, inside it was a completely different world. There were no human voices, no lantern lights, only a faint fluctuation of mana, like an invisible stream flowing through the space.
He frowned. Something was wrong here.
Stepping inside, the dampness from the old stone walls and the strong musty smell rushed into his nose. Under his feet were uneven paving stones, some places still black puddles that reflected the faint light from afar.
Walking a little deeper, Flauros stopped in front of a large wall with strange symbols carved on its surface. The zigzag lines seemed to be drawn in blood, radiating an ancient magical energy. This was not just an ordinary wall. It was a gate.
He raised his hand and lightly touched one of the symbols, immediately feeling a cold stream of mana running along his finger. A teleportation formation? But where did it lead to?
At that moment, from behind, a hoarse voice spoke:
"Not everyone can touch it and still stand like that."
Flauros did not turn around immediately, only tilting his head slightly, his sharp eyes scanning the person who had just appeared. A man wearing a cloak covered his head, only revealing a pair of dark golden eyes that flashed in the darkness.
"The entrance to this city is not for those without an 'invitation'." He continued, his tone slightly interested.
Flauros remained silent, but his finger still slid over the symbol, feeling the mana inside the formation. A hidden gate? If so, then this was not the official entrance to the Ozone Kingdom. Who was it for? An underground organization? Smugglers? Or even assassins?
The other man took a step forward, smiling faintly.
"Do you have a letter of introduction?"
Flauros curled his lips, his hand leaving the wall. He turned around, facing the stranger.
"I don't need it."
At the same time, the magic power on his hand moved slightly. Darkness gently spread from his palm, in just the blink of an eye, it tightened around the other man's throat, pulling him back and slamming him hard against the wall behind.
The cloaked man's eyes widened, struggling but unable to escape. Flauros approached, his eyes cold.
"Tell me... where does this entrance lead to?"
The cloaked man struggled a bit, but the invisible hand that was strangling his neck did not loosen. His dark golden eyes trembled, finally realizing that he had misjudged the person in front of him.
"I...it can't be..."
His voice was hoarse, but he still tried to speak.
"You don't have a letter of introduction, nor any trace of someone in the network… How did you know about this entrance?"
Flauros didn't answer right away. Instead, he tightened the darkness a little more, causing him to cough.
"You don't have the right to ask me."
'Because you're a weakling, traces of Mana are everywhere, even a low-level mage would notice them, and you don't even know why they were exposed.'
The other man stiffened. A second later, he quickly raised his hand, signaling that he was ready to talk. Flauros nonchalantly released his magic, but he still didn't let go completely.
"This entrance…"
He took a breath, regaining some composure.
"…It's one of the secret paths into the Ozone Kingdom. It's only for those with special 'passes'. Those who work for secret societies or the criminal underground."
Flauros frowned.
"So who controls it?"
The other hesitated, but with just one cold glance from Flauros, he understood that he had no other choice.
"…It's the Black Alliance."
Flauros narrowed his eyes slightly. The Dark Alliance, a secret organization that operates across countries, specializes in smuggling, assassination, and political manipulation. If they control this entrance, then there is a high chance that they have infiltrated the Ozone Kingdom's government.
"How many entrances are there?"
He continued to ask.
The other man gritted his teeth.
"I don't know the exact number. But there are at least three other entrances scattered around the border."
Flauros was silent for a moment. He didn't want to get involved in unnecessary trouble, but he couldn't ignore this either. If the Ozone Kingdom had problems, his journey there wouldn't be smooth sailing.
The cloaked man swallowed, looking at Flauros with a wary gaze.
"Who… are you?"
He didn't answer. He simply raised his hand, and in a moment, darkness erupted and enveloped the other man.
A light breeze blew through the alley, carrying the faint scent of blood. When it subsided, Flauros had disappeared into the night, leaving behind a cold body slumped on the stone floor.
Flauros left the alley, blending into the bustling crowd of the night market as if nothing had happened. The stalls were still brightly lit by oil lamps and magic stones, reflecting in his cold eyes.
He slowly walked past the bars where adventurers were gathered, noisily drinking glasses of strong beer. Laughter, cheers, and even bets with gold coins and rare items echoed everywhere.
A nomadic band was playing and singing ancient songs about legendary warriors, the melody both tragic and heroic.
Flauros didn't pay too much attention. He only focused on the information he had just gathered. The Dark Alliance was controlling the secret entrances to the Ozone Kingdom, something that could not be taken lightly. If they had enough influence to infiltrate the system of a large country like this, then there must be other forces pulling the strings behind the scenes.
"A single organization can't do this…"
He muttered.
Suddenly, a sense of unease crept into his mind.
Underneath the bustling sounds, Flauros sensed a very small, almost undetectable flow of mana sweeping through the market. It was as if someone was examining everyone.
His eyes turned cold.
Not everyone could do this. Tracking magic of this level could only be used by extremely skilled mages or individuals with a direct connection to spatial magic.
He pretended not to notice, continuing to walk, but at the same time began to use the mana barrier around his body to avoid being tracked.
At that moment—
He caught a glimpse of a black shadow gliding across the roof of the house opposite.
In just a second, Flauros stopped. The person moved so fast that even he could only make out a faint silhouette before it disappeared.
"Is someone following me?"
He clenched his fists.
Tonight was not as peaceful as he had imagined. Flauros had just stopped when, immediately, a cold, murderous aura like a sharp blade rushed over.
'So fast.'
Without hesitation, he leaned to the side to avoid it, and at that moment, a sharp blade slashed down, slicing the ground where he had just stood. Pieces of rubble flew into the air, leaving terrifyingly deep cuts on the pavement.
Flauros took a step back, raising his gaze to look at the person who had just attacked him.
A middle-aged man with silver armor that reflected the light from the street lamps, a stern face, and sharp eyes like an eagle. On his cloak was the royal insignia—a knight of the Ozone Kingdom.
"Are you an ally of the Black League?" His voice rang out, low but powerful.
Flauros was silent for a moment, then let out a small laugh.
"The Black League? I don't think I'd have the honor of being associated with them."
The knight narrowed his eyes.
"In that case, how do you explain your presence here? A mana-concealer, sneaking around the alley where the Black League used to operate? Don't think I don't know what you've been up to."
Flauros shrugged slightly.
"I'm just a curious passerby."
"Don't try to fool me!" The knight roared.
Flauros had no intention of fighting pointlessly, but the royal knight didn't think so.
He swung his sword, his foot stomping on the ground, creating a small shockwave before charging. His swordsmanship was not flashy, but each strike was fast, powerful, and terrifyingly accurate.
Flauros swung his arm, and a curtain of darkness appeared in front of him. But the knight did not stop, his sword glowing with magical light, slashing down to cut through the curtain in an instant.
'Flauros was faster than I thought.'
Flauros immediately jumped back, his feet slipping lightly on the stone pavement. But the knight did not give him a chance to breathe. He turned around, changed his attack, and continued to swing his sword down in a fatal strike.
This time, Flauros did not retreat.
He swung his arm, and the darkness condensed into a long spear, intercepting the incoming sword.
Keng!