Hours eventually ticked into days, and after what felt far longer than it could have been, they reached the singular trail of Ezra’s Path. Following it, the bleak desolation that had plagued their view was exchanged for a scenery of scattered countryside buildings.
They had reached the far outskirts of the Byzeth Kingdom.
Byzeth was one of the thirteen kingdoms under the sovereignty of the Valerian Empire. Although it was significantly the smallest, and not the strongest in military power, the kingdom thrived as a business capital.
Byzeth was a trade hub in Valeria, seemingly producing every in-demand commodity. It was a staple in the empire’s trade market.
The kingdom was an important asset to the Empire, and even if removed from the empire’s sovereignty, the kingdom could still thrive on its own, having built a system of self-sustainment.
These were the reasons the Byzeth king had grown cocky. However, it was far from enough to contemplate rebellion against the empire without expecting death as the end result.
Aszer Hait, the Byzeth king, was rumored to have broken into the realm of Martial Master, the fifth realm of cultivation. He was now a man capable of opposing a thousand single-handedly. This strength is what had tempted the greedy king into considering rebellion, but even then, that too, was still far from enough to execute such a plan.
Such cultivation was basic among the members of the imperial squad, let alone the Valerian Emperor, who, rumors say, had reached a realm where he now grappled with divinity.
Aszer knew opposition by himself was impossible, so he planned to collaborate with those he knew stood a chance against the Valerian Sovereignty—the Northrenders. By forming a trade alliance, Aszer saw it as a window to offer them more: conquest.
"We’re finally here..." Serina sighed, looking out the window at the rolling hills as they moved through a field.
"Should we ride straight to the capital and give the king a piece of our mind?" Lerai offered humorously.
"Yeah, if our goal is to see how fast we can get killed, we should definitely do that," Serina huffed lightly.
"There," Aric pointed to a building not too far away. "If we’re lucky, old man Hitoki should own it at this time."
"Old man Hitoki?" Serina glanced at Aric with a curious look.
"Yes, an old friend of mine..." Aric’s tone was reminiscent as he turned to the carriage driver and the guard. "Secure the horses and meet us over there," he instructed, pointing to the building while sharing a look with Alan.
"Yes, Your Highness," both men replied, watching Aric lead Serina and Lerai away.
The building stood far from others erected around the area, and unlike the bustling establishments at the district, it looked more like a home. It was built from brick rather than polished stone, and it didn’t have the same consumerist energy.
Aric pushed open the door, and the group of three entered. Their figures, cloaked and pale from the long journey, moved cautiously. Serina and Lerai were weary from travel, while Aric had pushed himself too hard fighting bandits, his illness making it a close call.
They walked into a living room, the sound of crackling wood from the fireplace immediately reaching their ears. The smell of burning logs mingled with a unique scent they couldn’t quite place, though it felt familiar to Aric.
Chairs made of soft hide were arranged around the room, and the wooden floor was covered with rugs.
The night had brought a chill outside, but here, the warmth felt like a comforting hold against the cold.
"Who are you... and why did you barge in here?"
A man walked out from a passage. His hair was white, and his wrinkles told of a man well on his years, yet he moved with surprising vigor.
"Old man..." Aric muttered, a slight sadness in his voice.