The gates of Veli City towered overhead, and the line of people waiting to enter stretched so long that it frayed everyone’s patience.
“Have you heard? Rosenberg just won a battle.”
The line barely moved. A few guards leaning against the base of the city wall chatted idly, completely unconcerned with the crowd.
“Ha! That third-rate bunch from Rosenberg actually won? If even they could pull it off, then Shiva’s undead must be nothing but trash.” One of the guards picked at his teeth, his tone dripping with both disdain and regret. “Damn shame I didn’t get to go to the battlefield. Otherwise, I could’ve racked up some merit and easily secured a minor post in the Southern Legion.”
Little Donnie had already been growing irritable from the long wait, and those words stabbed straight into his ears. The brutal, blood-soaked battle of Rosenberg was still vivid in his mind, yet now it was being mocked so casually. His face flushed red, and his fists clenched so tightly that his knuckles cracked.
He was just about to snap when a hand pressed down on his shoulder. Hank’s stern gaze bore into him. Knowing he couldn’t afford to cause trouble, Little Donnie swallowed his anger, though he couldn’t stop himself from letting out a heavy snort through his nose.
That single sound was enough for the guard to hear.
“Hey!” The tooth-picking guard frowned and turned toward them. “What’s that attitude? Got something to say? Which blind idiot was that? Who?”
Seeing his arrogant expression, Hank had only just begun to frown when another voice spoke up first.
“It was me.”
Everyone turned at once. The speaker was Nolan. With his arms crossed and an impatient look on his face, he stepped out from the line.
“What’s with all this dawdling? If you delay our employer’s schedule, are you going to compensate us?”
The two guards were instantly provoked and strode over.
They sized Nolan up from head to toe. His appearance was strange: a heavy greatsword without a sheath hung at his waist, a pair of dark iron boots on his feet, yet he wore nothing more than a plain cloth shirt. The whole combination looked completely mismatched.
Their expressions grew even more contemptuous.
“And here I thought you were someone important. Turns out you’re just a lowly mercenary. What’s the rush?”
As soon as he finished speaking, the guard’s gaze slipped past Nolan and landed on Anna beside the carriage. His eyes lit up noticeably.
Judging by the convoy, they had come from the backwater of Rosenberg. He hadn’t expected a place like that to produce a beauty of this caliber.
An idea immediately formed in his mind. Clearing his throat, he shouted toward the group, “Hey! You lot! Your goods require a priority security inspection! Caravans from Rosenberg must be thoroughly checked for possible infiltration by Shiva’s undead spies! Stay where you are. And you, the woman—yes, you—come to the guardroom and write down your background in full detail!”
The blatant harassment and ill intent froze the air in an instant.
Hank, the protective father, gripped the hilt of his sword. Anna’s eyes turned cold, and even Leus frowned, preparing to step down from the carriage to argue.
But Nolan was faster than all of them.
He strode up to the guard, looked him up and down as if he were trash, then spat on the ground with a sharp “ptui” before shoving him hard in the chest.
Bang!
The guard staggered back several steps. If he hadn’t grabbed his colleague’s arm, he would have fallen flat on his backside.
Before the man could react, Nolan pointed straight at his nose and unleashed a torrent of curses. “Cut the crap with me! Your captain, Klau, is my second aunt’s younger brother-in-law’s uncle! Trying to squeeze money out of me? Let me tell you this—there won’t be a single extra copper! If you don’t let us through today, just wait until you’re stripped of that uniform!”
Hank, Little Donnie, Anna—everyone was stunned.
Nolan’s manner, his tone, the sheer fluency of his streetwise insults—he looked exactly like a veteran mercenary thug who had spent decades living on the edge of a blade.
The guard was indeed intimidated by the performance.
This guy was acting so brazenly… could he really know the captain? Damn it, he’d run into a seasoned troublemaker.
But dozens of eyes from the waiting crowd were now fixed on him. He felt as though he’d been placed over an open flame. If he backed down now, how could he continue to hold authority at the city gate?
Acting on impulse, he barked, trying to sound fierce despite his unease, “You dare atta—”
Before the word “attack” could fully leave his mouth, both he and his colleague had already reached for the hilts of their swords.
But they never even touched them.
A sharp metallic ring cut through the air, and a dark flash of swordlight streaked past before anyone could react.
The young mercenary who had been cursing moments ago had drawn his sword at some point, though no one had noticed when. He did not hold it upright in the tense, awkward way of a novice. His grip was steady, the tip angled slightly forward to the right without the slightest tremor.
The guards might not have been particularly skilled, but they had enough experience to recognize what they were seeing. This was the fastest and most versatile opening stance for launching an attack—a form meant for killing.
Their opponent was not only seasoned, but a genuine master of the sword.
“That’s all you’ve got? Even the lowest skeletons of Shiva could take you down,” Nolan said, his voice laced with naked threat. “If I were you, I wouldn’t belittle the men of Rosenberg or their sacrifice. And I certainly wouldn’t draw my sword in front of me. Now, act like nothing happened and get back to doing your jobs.”
The two guards exchanged a glance, about to spit out a few token threats to save face—
Rip. A faint tearing sound cut through the air.
At the same time, both men felt a sudden looseness at their waists as a chill breeze slipped in.
Instinctively, they looked down. Their sturdy leather belts, along with the thick fabric of their uniform trousers, had been cleanly severed. The cuts were smooth—far too precise to have happened by accident.
With the weight of their sheathed swords still hanging from the belts, their trousers slid down instantly, dropping without resistance to their ankles. Four hairy legs were abruptly exposed under the afternoon sun of Veli City.
“Pfft.”
Someone in the crowd failed to hold it in, and the reaction spread like wildfire.
Suppressed laughter rippled through the onlookers. People tried not to laugh out loud, their faces flushed red as their shoulders shook uncontrollably.
Little Donnie burst out laughing, bending over at the waist.
Only the two guards couldn’t laugh. In fact, they were frozen in terror, cold sweat soaking their backs.
That strike just now… they hadn’t perceived it at all. If the target hadn’t been their belts but their necks, they wouldn’t even have had the chance to resist. By now, they would already be reporting to the Mother Goddess Sethis.
Fear swallowed their shame and anger whole. This was domination—pure, overwhelming power. Awe of the strong crushed any thought of resistance. Hastily pulling up their trousers, they waved their hands repeatedly.
“Go on! Go on in! Next… next time, if you’re in a hurry, just report it in advance!”
Hank and Anna exchanged a glance, both seeing the same mixture of admiration and astonishment in each other’s eyes.
Nolan, however, remained as calm as ever. He simply waved a hand, signaling the group to move forward.
They entered the city without further trouble.
Walking their horses along the broad stone streets of Veli City, Little Donnie was still immersed in the shock and exhilaration of what had just happened. He hurried up beside Nolan, his eyes full of admiration. “Big Brother Nolan, thanks for getting us out of that. You acted just like a veteran mercenary; it was incredible. That thing about your second aunt… why did you—?”
Nolan chuckled and ruffled his hair. “I know these low-ranking kingdom guards all too well. Most of them bully the weak, fear the strong, and like to squeeze out small gains, but they’re not truly evil. To deal with them, you have to speak a language they understand.”
The smile remained on his face, but his gaze drifted into the distance, as if recalling something from the past.
“If you try to reason with them, they’ll only see you as easy prey. Revealing your identity would attract unnecessary trouble, and worse, risk exposing your hand before we take the city. The only way is to be more overbearing than they are, more unreasonable, and back it up with just the right amount of ‘strength on display.’ That’s the fastest way to solve the problem.” He paused, his tone turning lighter again. “We have bigger things to do. No time to waste on trivial matters, right?”
From inside the carriage, Anna lifted the curtain and pointed toward a grand white building not far ahead. “Mr. Nolan, that’s the Temple of the Mother Goddess, isn’t it? Is the person we’re looking for there?”
Nolan nodded. “Yes. Priest Kayan. If I remember correctly, he should be there around this time. And… about to be driven out.”
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