Before the towering Mesa Gate, the night wind howled coldly against their faces. Before Xuánhú's conversation with Vaskar and Bran could continue, the pitch-black thickets outside the gate perimeter vibrated violently.
SZZZT!
Dozens of shadow wolf-like beasts lacking eyes burst forth from the forest's darkness, drawn by the surge of ancient magical aura radiating from Xuánhú and Nix.
"Hmph, minor nuisances," Xuánhú murmured lazily.
Nix stepped forward. "Allow me."
Yet Xuánhú was already in motion. His nine tails unfurled, sweeping the shadow beasts away with a single effortless flick of his arm. They dissipated into thin air like scattered smoke.
"Far too easy," Xuánhú muttered.
Vaskar observed with narrowed eyes. "You remain unchanged, Xuánhú. Never one to let others take your share."
Xuánhú chuckled. "I have waited far too long to be freed from that seal. Let me enjoy it a little."
"Impressive skill, as always," Vaskar whispered coldly. "Yet rules are rules. Anyone wishing to pass through the Mesa Gate must endure two trials: The Trial of Might and The Trial of Blood."
Bran Kravenshtadt stepped forward, adjusting his gray mantle. His steel-gray eyes scanned Leon's party before locking onto Kazan.
"You," Bran gestured toward Kazan. "I see immense survival potential within you, Sword Boy. You shall represent your party in the Trial of Might by standing your ground for one full minute. If you fall, you fail!"
Kazan blinked. "Me?"
"Don't make me repeat myself."
Kazan stepped forward without hesitation, drawing his blade. "Gladly, then."
BOOM!
A rapid duel erupted before the gate. Bran swung his colossal broadsword with raw, overwhelming force capable of cleaving fortress stone.
Yet Kazan moved far more composedly than he had two weeks prior. Utilizing the reflex coordination forged under Arthur's tutelage, Kazan ducked and weave gracefully, parrying Bran's thunderous strikes and appearing at his flank in a flash.
Bran was unfazed. For a man of his build, he pivoted with incredible speed, sweeping his blade in a wide arc.
Kazan leaped backward. The tip of Bran's sword grazed inches from his chest.
"Fast," Bran noted. "But you can't dodge forever."
Kazan offered no reply, surging forward once more to strike. He unsheathed his katana in a single fluid motion—delivering Hikari no Battō. A flash of brilliant white light surged toward Bran.
Bran blocked with his broadsword, forced back slightly. Not far—merely a single step. Yet it was enough to make his eyes widen.
"You..." Bran smirked. "Good."
He attacked again—faster, harder. Kazan dodged, blocked, and countered. The duel raged on for a full minute, and at its conclusion, Kazan remained standing. His breath was ragged, yet his footing held true.
Bran lowered his broadsword, freezing for a brief second before bursting into thunderous, satisfying laughter. "HA-HA-HA! Excellent work, kid! You pass! Your strength and composure are solid!"
Kazan nodded. "Thank you."
Vaskar descended slowly from the stone steps. "Now... The Trial of Blood."
He produced an engraved silver chalice and a crystal needle. "Except for Xuánhú, whose blood sample remains in my records from a thousand years ago, the three of you must shed a drop of blood."
Xuánhú scoffed. "You truly never change, Vaskar."
Vaskar offered a subtle smile. "Blood is everything."
Leon, Kazan, and Nix stepped forward in turn.
As Nix's blood dripped into the chalice, Vaskar's magic resonated violently. A faint heat smelling of embers exploded softly from the silver liquid. Vaskar was stunned. "Blood of the Phoenix race... long thought to be entirely extinct from this world."
Next was Kazan. The moment his blood touched the chalice, a pure, golden light resonated outward. Vaskar narrowed his eyes. "Intriguing. Within your veins flows the human bloodline of one of the Four Sacred Races."
Kazan remained silent, his expression blank.
Finally, it was Leon's turn. The moment a single drop of Leon's blood touched the liquid's surface—
BZZZZT!
The silver chalice abruptly cracked! A burst of dense, pitch-black purple Void energy erupted violently, releasing an intense chill that caused Vaskar's pale fingers to shiver violently.
Vaskar stared at Leon with an unreadable expression—a mix of shock, caution, and eerie fascination.
"You..." Vaskar whispered softly, his voice laden with a quiet threat. "...are no ordinary demon. A mysterious darkness lurks beneath your skin." Vaskar drew his hand back, adjusting his crimson cloak. "You pass. Yet mark my words... be careful what you awaken within this fortress."
CREAAAAK!
Colossal chains rattled, and the black steel door of the Mesa Gate slowly lifted.
Contrary to Leon's expectation of immediately entering narrow city alleys, stepping past the threshold revealed an expansive land bordered by giant stone walls. In the distance stood the towering Outer Wall of Cloţca.
They walked for several hours through an unnaturally quiet landscape—devoid of birds, beasts, or any sound save for their own footsteps.
Then, they arrived.
The Outer Wall of Cloţca.
Leon blinked. This... was not what he had envisioned.
As the group stepped inside, a massive surprise greeted them.
There was no cold gothic atmosphere or terrifying gloom here. Instead, sounds of jovial laughter, tambourine melodies, and warm torchlight welcomed their arrival. Burly soldiers and citizens of the Outer Wall greeted them with genuine warmth and open arms.
A soldier belonging to the Kravenshtadt house greeted them warmly, waving as he offered two steaming clay cups.
"Well, you finally made it! Here, drink up. Warm herbal brew from the outer post. Bitter at first, sweet at the end. Perfect for chasing away the cold."
He took a sip from his own cup and chuckled.
"Welcome to the Outer Wall! I am Captain Rurik Kravenshtadt."
"Come, follow me. This Outer Wall is absurdly massive. If you wander off on your own, you'll end up lost near the armory. I'll guide you through the main districts to save time."
The captain took another sip before stepping forward. They followed behind him.
"First up is the Steel District," he explained, pointing toward a row of smoking stone structures.
Barracks and training grounds stretched before them, echoing with the clanging of forged iron from weapon depots, mingled with the scent of sweat and loud commands from drilling soldiers.
"We never sleep here," the officer continued. "The iron must stay hot. The soldiers must stay ready."
Not far away, the atmosphere shifted drastically.
"And this is the Wolf District."
A modest residential area for soldiers' families. Children ran around laughing, while battle veterans sat in circles around campfires, quietly sharing war stories from days past.
"The loudest yet most peaceful place on the Outer Wall," the captain remarked with a gentle smile.
They continued along a wider street illuminated by hanging lanterns.
"The Market District. Uniquely, this place comes alive at night."
Craftsmen set up their stalls, bargaining voices chimed, and the aroma of spices and oils filled the air.
"By day, however, it's dead silent. Everyone takes shelter. It's been a habit since ancient times."
The captain's pace slowed, his smile fading as they reached the edge of the wall.
"And lastly... the Ash District."
A quiet, somber corner. Dilapidated wooden buildings stood tightly packed—devoid of light, sound, or life. Even the wind seemed reluctant to venture near.
"Citizens avoid this area," he murmured softly. "A dumping ground for outcasts. We don't need to linger here."
He quickened his stride, as if eager to avert his eyes from the Ash District.
"This place... is vastly different from what I imagined Cloţca to be," Kazan muttered, watching children playing nearby.
Xuánhú exhaled softly. "The Kravenshtadt family are true warriors. So long as you do not pick trouble, they will welcome you like kin."
Overhearing this, Captain Rurik chuckled softly.
"Your friend speaks the truth," he said, turning to Kazan. "Outsiders assume Cloţca is purely about blood and steel. Yet walls cannot stand without the families dwelling within them."
He paused, watching the running children.
"Those kids don't know what Cloţca represents to the outside world. To them, it's just home. And our duty is to ensure that home endures."
Kazan fell silent, giving a quiet nod. "I understand now."
Captain Rurik smiled, gesturing forward. The party reached the edge of the Wolf District, stepping into the entrance of the Market District, glowing brightly with lanterns.
"And since you understand, you've earned a good rest. Right up ahead is a cozy tavern in the Market District—Voron's Tavern. Their soup is the best around."
Nix offered a respectful salute. "Thank you for the guidance and the stories, Captain."
"Ah, just call me Rurik," he replied, clasping his hands over his chest. "My duty ends here. Consider the herbal brew my initial welcome. If you need anything, just mention my name at the guard post."
Kazan joined in the salute. "Thank you, Captain Rurik."
"Until tomorrow. Get plenty of rest," Rurik said. Turning on his heel, his heavy cloak fanning behind him, he vanished back toward the Steel District.
Leon's party settled into the warm, cozy Voron Tavern in the Market District.
While enjoying hot soup and drinks, they unfurled a small map across their table.
"We have two objectives in Cloţca," Leon whispered softly, avoiding eavesdropping eyes. "First, investigate whether the exiled dual-element mage needed to craft Raina's ice poison antidote is located here. Second, find a path into the Inner City to meet the King and secure quick passage onward to Venturia."
Xuánhú glanced toward the dark silhouette of the Ash District visible through the tavern window. "If this dual-element mage was exiled and branded as a curse by the populace... the most logical place to look within the Outer Wall is the Ash District."
Suddenly—
The laughter and tambourine music inside the tavern ground to an absolute halt. The warm atmosphere turned bone-chillingly tense within seconds.
Iron-soled boots clicked rhythmically against the stone street outside.
Through the window, a patrol dressed in elegant black armor and deep red cloaks with high collars marched past. They were the primary security force belonging to the Vladirescu Family.
Their demeanor was arrogant and cold, looking upon the citizens of the Outer Wall like lowly insects—a 180-degree contrast to the warmth of the Kravenshtadt soldiers.
The Vladirescu patrol commander paused directly in front of the tavern door. His glowing red eyes glared sharply through the glass window, scanning the room before locking onto the table where Leon, Kazan, Nix, and Xuánhú sat.
A sinister smirk crossed the commander's pale lips before he stepped inside the tavern alongside his squad.
Kazan clenched his fists beneath the table, while Leon narrowed his eyes.
=== CHAPTER 59 END ===