Caelan settled into the carriage as it rolled out of the Virelith estate and onto the paved streets of Blackthorn City, the major stronghold of the Virelith Clan and the capital of their ducal territory.
The streets of the city were bustling and lively, filled with the sounds of people going about their daily lives. Aesthetic buildings, colorful shop stands, well-dressed people, and children running around the streets filled Caelan's vision as he gazed out through the carriage window.
Some passersby gazed at the carriage with awe, gratitude, and curiosity. Children tugged at their parents' sleeves while excitedly pointing toward the carriage, while some merchants paused their work to watch it pass.
Caelan was faintly amused by their reactions, although it was understandable. The Virelith Clan was efficient in its duties as the ducal lord of this vast territory, protecting Blackthorn City from occasional beast tides while also carrying out its civil duties exceptionally well. This was why the city remained so bustling and lively despite its close proximity to the dangerous Blackthorn Mountain Range.
The Virelith name carried considerable weight within the territory.
It wasn't simply because they were powerful.
The clan provided protection, maintained order, and ensured that the people living under their rule could go about their daily lives without constantly worrying about the beasts lurking beyond the city walls. For many of the common people, the Virelith Clan was less a noble family and more a shield standing between them and the dangers of the outside world.
Caelan's gaze wandered toward the distant horizon.
Even from within the city, the enormous silhouettes of the Blackthorn Mountains could be seen rising beyond the surrounding landscape. Their peaks were partially obscured by clouds, giving the range an almost ominous appearance.
The Blackthorn Mountain Range, responsible for the city's name, was extremely dangerous, teeming with beasts and danger zones. The Virelith Clan regularly sent its knights and young masters into the mountains in order to cull the beast population and provide them with valuable combat experience.
It was due to these very reasons that Rian had gotten the opportunity to make his move against Caelan.
And now Caelan was going back to that same mountain range.
The thought made his golden eyes narrow slightly.
He still remembered that day.
The cold sensation of betrayal.
The feeling of falling.
The pain.
The helplessness.
For a brief moment, Caelan's expression darkened as the memory resurfaced, but he quickly pushed it aside.
There was no point dwelling on it.
He had survived.
More importantly, he was no longer the same person who had fallen from that cliff.
This time, he was going there willingly.
And fate had apparently decided to give him another opportunity.
A pocket dimension—or dungeon, as they were popularly referred to nowadays—had recently opened within the Blackthorn Mountain Range. As luck would have it, the dungeon was also the solution to two of his current problems because of the strength of the beasts within it and the distorted flow of time.
According to research, newly opened dungeons usually experienced differences in the flow of time before they fully aligned with the world they had opened in or were adjusted by high-rank time mages. The latter case was few and far between, so the former was what usually played out.
Depending on the strength and type of the dungeon, it could take weeks or even months for the temporal distortion to stabilize.
This was a boon for Caelan.
Two months in the outside world would give him more than enough time inside the dungeon to increase his strength and reach the age requirement for the Lionheart entrance examination.
He could effectively kill two birds with one stone.
Caelan leaned against the carriage seat and released a slow breath.
Two years.
That was how long he could potentially spend inside the dungeon.
Two years of fighting.
Two years of training.
Two years to sharpen his swordsmanship, improve his magic, and push his body beyond its current limits.
His fingers unconsciously tightened.
The thought alone made his blood stir.
His eyes burned with anticipation and excitement as he looked forward to the events that would unfold. The thought of growing even stronger seemed to make his blood boil, awakening a primal thirst for combat that he hadn't quite realized was there.
A small grin slowly appeared on his face.
«Two years...»
He could barely imagine how much stronger he would become after spending that long fighting beasts and constantly pushing himself toward his limits.
Perhaps he would reach Gold Stage.
Perhaps his mage path would advance just as quickly.
And if he was lucky—or insane enough—maybe he could accomplish even more.
Caelan's grin widened.
Then he caught himself.
"Careful there. I don't wanna turn into a battle-crazy maniac," Caelan muttered to himself.
He immediately took a deep breath and forced himself to relax.
There was no need to get carried away before he had even reached the dungeon.
Still, the excitement refused to disappear completely.
Caelan glanced through the window once more.
Blackthorn City was slowly disappearing behind him as the carriage continued along the road. The familiar buildings became smaller, the crowds thinned, and the sounds of civilization gradually faded into the distance.
Ahead lay the mountain range.
Ahead lay the dungeon.
And beyond that...
Caelan's golden eyes gleamed.
His future.
The carriage eventually passed through the outer gates of Blackthorn City, leaving the safety and bustle of civilization behind.
The sun shone brightly overhead, its golden rays bathing the land in warmth, burning almost as though it wanted to mark the beginning of a journey that would echo through the streams of time.
Caelan stared toward the distant Blackthorn Mountains.
He didn't know what awaited him there.
But for the first time in a long while, he was looking forward to finding out.