Blood Will

2

After handing the money over to the guards who wore armor the color of a dull emerald, the group entered the trade district. For a moment, Hadjar thought that they had somehow ended up in a different city. They saw clean streets, wide enough for four carts or carriages to go down side by side.

The neat houses had been built in straight rows and the people walking along the street were clean, wearing expensive clothes, and smiling. It looked as if they didn’t have a care in the world and were quite confident that their future was bright.

Even the signboards swaying in the wind weren’t squeaking at all. Moreover, some cafes, taking advantage of the pleasant spring weather, had erected wooden tables on the street. Various customers were occupying them. They were drinking wine, or something stronger, and eating delicious food that a simple soldier could only dream of.

The friends’ stomachs started growling at the sight of a baked duck.

“I know a good local tavern,” Nero said suddenly. “We stayed there when I was here with my father.”

Taking the reins, Nero directed the cart toward the next street.

The capital, where almost seventeen million people lived, was a huge but well-designed city. All the streets were straight, and the houses were built in a uniform, square shape. Each of these ‘blocks’ had a patio as well.

Well, that was true for the trade and central districts. In the slums, a person could get lost even with a compass, a map, and a guide.

The residents of the capital, though afraid of the lizard, tried not to show it. Apparently, they were accustomed to just how vast and diverse the world was. The noble children, using their connections in the Empire to obtain them, would often flaunt such ‘miraculous’ possessions.

Nero brought them to the ‘Drunk Goose’ tavern. It was four stories tall and almost leaning against the wall separating the trade district from the central district. It was quite expensive, especially when you considered the annual income of the peasants — renting three rooms for just three days had cost them one gold and forty silver coins.

The receptionist smiled at Hadjar sweetly. Nero was off limits, Serra’s menacing look made that abundantly clear. Ralpie... Well, Ralpie was constantly overshadowed by his fellows. The receptionist hadn’t even noticed him.

It was rather crowded on the first two floors tonight. The guests were drinking, eating, laughing, engaging in loud discussions, and listening to the music coming from the stage where the bards sat, playing and singing.

The employees of the tavern helped them take their luggage up to their rooms on the top floor. Perhaps the price had been so high because Nero had asked for the best accommodations.

Entering his room — a very spacious one that even had its own wardrobe — Hadjar went to the window and looked at the fortress wall. It was right across from the tavern. Guards in golden armor paced along the wall above the high gate. They exuded the energy of practitioners at the Formation stage. In Haver’s time, they would’ve surely been Senior Officers or even Commanders.

Well, he had to hand it to Primus. He kissed the ass of the Empire skillfully.

Hadjar’s belongings had been left by the door — two little trunks and a spare sheath. After hanging the sheath above the headboard, Hadjar touched the handle of Moon Beam. The injuries he’d sustained in his fight against the Patriarch of ‘The Black Gates’ were almost healed, but he still didn’t want to risk unsheathing the blade.

He didn’t want to possibly aggravate the situation and do further damage to his body or, even worse, the core of his power that was forming inside his soul. It had suffered most of the damage that came from him… Channeling the Sword Spirit. Apparently, Hadjar was far from ready for this level of swordsmanship.

No wonder Serra had said that the mysteries of the Sword Spirit were usually only accessible to Spirit Knights and higher. Even Heaven Soldiers wouldn’t be able to delve into the intricate truths of the universe and use them at their discretion.

Nevertheless, the Technique Traves had created really clashed with the laws of the Heavens and Earth. It was probably one of the reasons why the dragon had spent several hundred millennia in that underwater cave.

A white, furry muzzle popped out from under his shirt. Azrea yawned and bit Hadjar slightly. She always did that when she was hungry. Smiling, Hadjar looked around at his temporary home and walked out the door.

The servants had given him a very plain, heavy, iron key, which Hadjar used to lock the door. He could bust through the door easily. However, there were very few practitioners of his level in the Kingdom. Usually, these practitioners didn’t really need to break into someone’s rooms.

Hadjar went over to Serra and Nero’s room, but, judging by the sounds coming from it, he was sure that they didn’t want to be disturbed. So, he left them to it and went down the stairs quickly.

Expensive oil lamps hung on the walls. He had rarely seen so many in one place, even in the Palace, but a simple tavern had an abundance of them. It was quite a shocking contrast when compared to the poor neighborhoods. Ruled by the Empire, the poor had only gotten poorer, and the rich had gotten richer.

Hadjar went down to the dining hall and, showing the emblem on his room key, went to sit at a table on the second floor. There were much fewer people here than on the first floor. In order to sit at a table on this floor, a person had to either pay a substantial amount of money or be a guest at their best rooms.

Hadjar sat down at a table and a waitress rushed over to him immediately. He noticed the similarities between the barmaid and the waitress: they had the same sparkling, bright green eyes and rich, fiery hair. The tavern was a family business.

“Today we have a rich selection of game,” she began amiably. “Goose stuffed with apples, steamed turkey, fried and baked duck, and...”

Out of habit, Hadjar raised his palm imperiously. He realized too late that he was no longer a General, and here in the city, such a gesture was boorish.

“Sorry,” Hadjar apologized immediately and lowered his hand. However, the waitress wasn’t insulted at all. “Can I have an animal eating alongside me?”

“Of course,” the girl nodded.

Hadjar pulled Azrea out from underneath his clothes and put her on the table. The kitten sniffed the white tablecloth and then politely sat down right in the center of the table. The girl was amazed. If Hadjar hadn’t been there, she would’ve already started hugging and petting the adorable little ball of fluff.

“Please bring a cup of boiling water for me and a bowl of warm milk for her.”