Faye Town appeared at the end of the road.
Its walls were low — looking as if they were built to mark a boundary rather than for defense. Yet, they were actually a true trench, constructed for the rare battles that occurred. The stones were neatly carved, but the mortar between them was old, cracked in some places. Holding back cultivators in the Beginning Realm was acceptable, but if a Foundation Establishment cultivator applied enough pressure, it would not be difficult to collapse this wall.
Above the gate was a coat of arms; it had faded, the symbol within it indistinct. Wisps of smoke rose from inside the town. It was afternoon, so people had not yet retreated to their homes — the echo of voices from the market area could be heard by everyone. While the sound of a hammer came from one part of the town, people could be heard laughing loudly in another.
The guard at the gate relaxed his shoulders upon seeing Denis and his friend. He glanced at Evra for a moment and allowed them to pass.
The inside of the town was livelier than the outside. Narrow streets connected to one another, and the houses were densely packed, but despite their density, they could not be called high-quality or beautiful. This was not a wealthy town. There was a smell of food in the air — the scent of frying food sent young children running after it. When Denis and his friend entered, a few people waved, and someone shouted Denis's name. Apparently, they were cooking chops. They hesitated to call the crew over because of Evra's presence.
Evra walked a bit behind them. His eyes curiously examined the surroundings. It wasn't the first town he had entered since leaving home, but it was a new place. Evra still found it interesting to see new people. This was just an ordinary place. Evra knew this too, but he still liked knowing that he had seen Faye Town as well.
Someone called out from the corner. The target was Denis's friend — a familiar face to him, shouting with a laugh. "I can't believe I can pull that plump belly of yours away from the chops." The slightly plump youth apologized with his eyes and immediately legged it away from the duo.
Denis turned to Evra. "Will you be here until evening?"
"Probably."
"Let's have a beer at the tavern tonight then. Some of the caravan owners will be there too, and you can meet your traveling companions as well."
Evra did not show much hesitation. He nodded. "Sure."
Denis said goodbye and followed his friend. Evra stood where he was for a while and looked at the town.
Then it occurred to him.
He was seventeen years old.
His brows furrowed slightly.
'Not quite drinking age yet, huh?'
There was a market area in the town that wasn't very large. Evra walked slowly toward it.
The people were normal on the surface. Naturally, there were almost no cultivators, and those who were cultivators were merely town officials or hunters who had come to shop in the area. Their cultivation didn't even reach the Foundation Establishment realm. Denis must have been considered a high-level official here. Considering his physical condition, Evra could see that he was very close to the Origin Energy Realm, but at this age, the Origin Energy Realm would cause him to go to the city. On top of that, Denis showed no signs of origin energy control.
They had set up their stalls, doing their shopping, arguing with each other. They didn't seem aware of what it meant to live in a town so close to the border of two kingdoms. Maybe they were aware and chose not to care. Sometimes these two were the same thing.
But Evra looked at it differently.
He had seen it while walking with Denis — there were foreign faces in the town. The man sitting in front of a stall was not a townsperson. He was a powerful cultivator. His posture was also different. It was as if he was detached from his surroundings. The exact opposite of an assassin. Perhaps it was related to the technique he cultivated. Evra was not very experienced in this regard. He was just good at detecting the origin energy overflowing from the man's body. The woman sitting alone in the inn on the corner hadn't ordered; she was just looking at the door. There were people like this in small towns — passing through, stopping, waiting. Although nothing guaranteed war yet, the news was not good, and it was clear that there would be a war between the 12 Chaotic Kingdoms and The Heart Temple. There were people fleeing from there.
Evra kept his aura pulled inward.
If he faced a Sage, he would be found out anyway, he knew this. But until then, appearing like an ordinary person was the best decision. He did not want to attract attention. He did not want to enter into any unnecessary friction before arriving in Magnolia City. Moreover, leaving even the slightest opening regarding his capacity could cause trouble in these places where he was a stranger.
'Ah, did I make the right decision?'
It had only been a few months since he left the Golden State. He was still surprised that he had left.
After his father and older brother died, what was left in the Golden State anyway? A grandfather he had never met? The faces of distant relatives? Condolence visits, perhaps. Instead of facing them, he preferred to face his regrets. Even if he couldn't forgive himself, he could choose to carry that burden. He had betrayed Ulam.
And not just that. That wasn't the problem. His real regret wasn't that he was about to kill Ulam. It was that he hadn't moved fast enough. He had hesitated.
He should have killed Ulam.
It felt hard for Evra to say this. Facing this despicable regret was Evra's fear.
His father and older brother had died for him.
So, was it wrong to use the power gained from this sacrifice to protect others? Is that what they would have wanted? It was no longer possible to ask them. Evra only had his own answer — he couldn't think of doing anything else. He had tried to think, but it didn't work.
There was a small shop on the corner. Dreamcatchers.
Evra stopped. He walked to the front of the stall.
They hung in different sizes — feathers, beads, thin wooden rings. They were all handmade, meticulous. Upon one of them was a small bird feather, swaying gently in the wind. Evra picked it up and examined it.
'Just superstitions. The common folk must be foolish to believe in these.'
Maria's words came to his mind. She would reveal this rebellious attitude around very few people. For a long time, Evra hadn't realized he was one of those people.
His father used to think differently. He had mentioned once that traditional items could turn into unexpected weapons in the hands of an appropriate expert. His voice in that conversation was serious yet full of admiration — as if he were speaking not theoretically, but as someone who had witnessed it.
Both were on his mind. Neither was by his side.
Evra left the dreamcatcher.
The owner of the shop was an old woman, sitting behind the stall. Beside her was her grandson — he wasn't even ten years old, but he was helping his grandmother, carrying things, adjusting their positions. They were talking about something between them. The child said something, the woman laughed at him and stroked his head. The child was a little embarrassed, but his smile didn't fade.
They looked happy. I hope they can understand the value of it. Of happiness.
Evra looked.
This town was close to the border. The tension persisted, and the people were unaware of it. When it did happen, it would likely be too late. Evra couldn't change this, he knew it. He didn't have the power to stop the war. But something could be done for the people here — it had to be done.
He convinced himself once more that he had made the right decision.
When evening came, the sound of the town changed. The market area emptied, and the streets grew quiet. Smoke rose from the chimneys of houses where fires had been lit. There was a warmth left in the air from the crowd of the day.
Evra found Denis in front of the door.
As they walked, Denis talked about the caravan. It was leaving in a few days, passing by the direction of Magnolia City, and the fees to join were a bit high. After all, the road wasn't very short, and he wanted to know what Evra thought about it.
"Why Magnolia City?" Denis asked. The question was natural; he was curious.
"I want to join the army."
Denis didn't answer for a while. He didn't slow his steps but walked as if weighing something. The street wasn't narrow, but the houses on both sides were tall, the evening light falling only in the middle.
"I thought about it too," Denis said. His voice was flat. "It didn't work out."
"Why?"
"A matter of talent." He stated it flatly, without shrugging. "I am in the Foundation Establishment realm. There are hundreds of men like me there, thousands maybe. I have no chance to make a difference."
Evra didn't answer right away.
"I can't gauge your level," Denis said. "Your aura is closed, I can't feel anything. But your perspective is different. Your way of walking when we were in the forest was different. There is something about you." He paused for a moment. "You will be successful there."
"I don't know."
"I know."
Evra looked at him. Denis was looking ahead; he was sincere. There were people like this — when they believed in something, they said it directly, no more and no less.
"Even if you were to fail, you should have tried," Evra said. "At least it could be better than living a closed-off life here."
Denis didn't answer this time. He withdrew inward — to the place of his own thoughts. Evra did not push. Sometimes what needs to be said is said, and the rest is left to the person themselves.
The tavern was on the corner. Its door was open, carrying sounds outside from within — music, noise, multiple people speaking at the same time.
The inside was crowded. The tables were full, the smells of alcohol and food mixing in the air. The ceiling was low, the lamps burning with a warm yellowness. The walls were wood-paneled, with various things hanging on them — horns, old weapons, incomprehensible signs. In a corner, three musicians were playing; the tempo was high. People spoke by shouting because they couldn't be heard otherwise. They seemed to be having quite a lot of fun.
On top of the bar counter, there was a girl.
She was blonde. She wore a short skirt, her face bright red. She held a bottle in her hand and was singing loudly, perfectly matching the musicians' tempo — the lyrics weren't exact, she was making parts up, but she didn't care about that. Countless drunk men in the bar looked at her with perverted gazes. However, when the young girl's violent aura shook them back, they didn't have much of a chance. An axe hung from her waist, swaying along with her as she took steps. She looked quite disheveled. She was quite cheerful.
Evra froze.
Denis laughed. He had seen Evra's gaze locked onto the woman. "Did you fall in love?"
"Milena."
Milena turned her head. She narrowed her eyes. Her drunk, red cheeks tensed. She pouted her lips.
"Who?!"