Chapter 295 – A Slippery Eel

Chapter 295 – A Slippery Eel

A long caravan coming from Atuvia just climbed up to the top of a gentle hill, revealing Avalon's walls not that far from their position, its gleaming towers catching the late afternoon sun. The city’s walls were taller than what people within the group were used to, even with the massive mountains as its backdrop. For a brief moment, the sheer scale and visibly predetermined, designed beauty of the city stole Lyria Tanneth’s breath—a lapse she quickly corrected by glancing downward, feigning indifference. She tightened her grip on the edges of the cart she rode in, careful not to let her admiration betray her. Not because she was a newly up-and-coming businesswoman... No.

To the others in the caravan, she was simply Eira Shastan, a merchant’s apprentice from Atuvia's eastern region. She was a bright gem who managed to outgrow and overthrow her teachers and establish a name for herself. In the end, she straight bought up her retainers, overtaking their caravan business, moving away from the turbulent regions towards the west, and settling under the Quickfeet Guild's territory. Then, as the opportunity arose to travel to Avalon, she was eager to visit the suddenly legendary city of inventions and deliver goods. Of course, this has been her goal all along.

She had spent months perfecting her Atuvian accent, learning their habits and history, and forging her background through brainwashing spells, heavy bribes, and, of course, murdering those who would pose a danger of revealing her true identity. The elaborate backstory Lord Barth provided to her included everything for her to succeed—and she did manage to do so in a short few months only. It was a good idea to 'originate' from Atuvia's eastern part, making it a bit harder for Quickfeet and Goldlight to do proper background checks as they were already isolated to other parts of Atuvia. It was the main reason for her cover and designed to draw as little attention as possible, acting as a relative newcomer yet clearly gifted merchant who wished to escape the turmoil within the League.

Her pulse quickened as she scanned the city’s skyline and layout one more time. This was no ordinary settlement, and it looked just as proper as the Capital of Ishillia. This city of stone bristled with activity and confidence, its structures exuding the blend of practical function and artistic grandeur that made her stomach turn. It was as if they were openly defying Ishillia. Well... They were.

As the caravan began moving again, she tried to look for clues of magic, formations masqueraded as crests or banners, anything she had been trained to recognize, but she couldn't see any. She almost let it show on her face, cursing Avalon because she was forbidden to bring along any magical instruments or artifacts capable of detecting the presence of magic. Barth had drilled into her the dangers of Avalon's unknown methods that allowed them to trace and find it, something that caused Lord Otto's failure.

"Still impressed by your first visit, eh, Eira?" the caravan master, Gorran, teased as he urged his horses forward. His Atuvian dialect was rough but clear.

"It’s a lot bigger than I imagined," Lyria replied, keeping her tone light. "I thought it’d be more... rustic. You know, for a frontier town."

Her comment drew chuckles from the others in the caravan, though one of the younger guards added.

"Rustic? You're looking at the pride of the Ishillian Frontier! Avalon’s no backwater city. If it wasn't clear from the fact we passed by their train, then seeing the city for yourself should be the final proof you need!"

Lyria smiled shyly, as expected, but inwardly, she cataloged every detail of the road, the border crossings, the train tracks they passed, and the majestic metal machine occupying it. She noticed that the workers who were still hammering and helping Atuvia finish their so-called railways were slave labor, evident from the guards standing around them at all times.

"At least, they are not that different." She thought, making a mental note of the fact, wondering if the train would be available when it was time to head back to Atuvia. She wanted a ride on it to be able to make an even better report.

To not betray her thoughts, she began memorizing the surrounding terrain. Then she observed the traffic heading in and out of the city, the clean roads that were well-maintained, with enough space for double-lane travel; more than that, they were flanked by drainage channels and small barriers—practical and efficient. It wasn't that surprising, though, as they passed a river that was not on any of the maps she knew of... and through a massive, completely metal bridge.

It was hard to accept that they managed to make a river, but she had to. Maybe it was the result of the harsh winter, but... whatever it was, now it was there, flowing and causing her report to become grimmer with every passing day. If Lord Barth and the Eternal Emperor ordered an invasion, crossing into Avalon could be a big issue as they could be halted and herded into choke points very easily, thanks to the sudden changes.

While thinking about it, she noticed that along the path were, possibly, Avalonian soldiers in pairs, patrolling with measured purpose. They carried no banners or decorated armor, but they wore matching black-and-gold uniforms, sleek and looking like a noble's formal suit. Their weapons looked ordinary, made out of metal. They weren't wearing the menacing armors she had seen, and their frames were also smaller... they were younger, too. Which, in turn, told her that these were most likely trainees. Tasked with patrolling duties.

“Soldiers within ten minutes of running time,” she still noted to herself. “Uniform spacing. Disciplined but relaxed—at ease, not tense. No signs of recent incidents, minor or major.”

As they arrived at the city gates, the atmosphere shifted a little. The walls of Avalon loomed over her, their surface intricately decorated, carved with motifs of roaring lions and flowing rivers—artistry so seamless it could have been mistaken for natural stonework. To decorate a wall like this was unheard of... And a complete waste. The gate itself was massive, made to look like it was a giant lion's head, and its mouth was its entrance. Above it, large mechanisms suggested the gate could be raised or lowered with terrifying speed, although she couldn't calculate how fast it would happen.

Looking at the decorations, she began thinking... it was clearly added later, and she noticed the subtle clues confirming it. Were they hiding additional secrets? Things that were added later?

“What is this place?” she thought, her composure momentarily shaken. Lord Barth’s warnings rang in her ears: "Do not underestimate them. Avalon is no mere upstart settlement. Look at them as I do... A danger to Ishillia. A bigger danger than the Geth Empire."

By evening, Lyria had settled into her rented quarters above a modest inn in the district, closest to the main market square. The room was sparsely furnished but clean, with a bed, a small desk, and a lamp that needed no candle. She studied it for a moment, noting that she just had to put some stones in, pour water into one of its compartments, turn a handle, and... there was light. She wanted to take it away... but she held herself back, walking to her window, looking out onto the city.

The view provided a perfect vantage of the city’s central square, dominated by a colossal bathhouse further back that looked more like a palace. Its columns and mosaics glowed softly under the lamplight filling the city, and streams of steam rose from its vents, curling into the cool night air.

“Opulence and function,” she noted. “Every building serves a purpose, but they take pride in their presentation.”

Sitting down, her eyes closed, recalling everything she had memorized, she began sketching a rough map of the city in her journal, marking key landmarks, patrol routes, and possible escape paths. Her earlier exploration revealed more about Avalon's defenses, and she had to mark them as her drawing would be sent back to Lord Barth. Watchtowers were only on the city's walls, and they were manned by actual, armored guards at regular intervals, hidden from head to toe. Maybe they were not even humans... Then, there were no visible siege weapons, but she felt that those decorations covering the surface of the wall hinted at something hidden—as for what? She didn't know.

The people, too, intrigued her. Avalonians walked with a sense of purpose and unmatched drive, their confidence palpable. Unlike other cities where every caste was living in their own little quarter, Avalon radiated an unsettling unity. She had even spotted workers heading home from a workshop, their faces tired but content, talking with people who were better dressed, going in for a drink as if they were on the same level. It was a stark contrast to how it should be. This was... maddening.

“Yet... This place works,” she realized with a pang of unease. “And that makes it extremely dangerous.”

Her next move was clear. She needed to establish a foothold—find someone who could provide her with access to Avalon’s inner workings. Perhaps one of the city’s officials, a soldier, or even a local merchant with connections. Barth’s instructions had been explicit: "Use any means necessary."

Thinking about it, Lyria changed into a simple dress, letting her hair fall in loose waves to soften her appearance. The inn’s common room was lively, filled with workers and vendors relaxing after a good day's work. She scanned the room as she walked down, her eyes lingering on a young man in the similar officer’s uniform the guard at the gates wore. He was seated with a few comrades, laughing and sipping from a mug of what looked like ale.

Perfect. She approached slowly, her steps already calculated to seem casual for anyone watching her swaying hips. When she reached his table, she let her accent slip slightly as she leaned a bit forward, showing her cleavage that although it wasn't that deep, it was still inviting.

“Excuse me,” she said, feigning uncertainty. “I’m new to Avalon and was wondering if you might recommend a good place to dine?”

The officer looked up from her cleavage, blushing a little. His gaze briefly flicked down one last time before he smiled warmly.

“You’re in the right place, miss! They serve the best stew in the district here, only five minutes from here! I think they are open until midnight.”

Hearing him speak and watching her body, she allowed herself a shy smile, grateful he had taken the bait and pushed it a bit further.

“Thank you. I’ll be sure to try it. If I am not too imposing... I would also love it if you could show me where it is~ I would be happy to invite you all, too, of course! As a thanks, from me~!”

As the evening wore on, Lyria engaged the officer and his comrades in small talk, carefully weaving a narrative of an innocent merchant eager to learn about Avalon. By the end of the night, she had a name, a potential contact, and—most importantly—a subtle invitation to meet again.

It was nothing concrete yet, but she had time. She would slowly peel back the layers, revealing the truth about this... Avalon.