He gathered the information surrounding the crusade: We are one of many crusades sent to the Western Domination. Our task is to capture land, but that’s more of a lofty goal, something out of reach for us. No one really expects us to succeed in that. So simply capturing more territory would be considered a victory.

But now there’s a Golden Knight? That changed everything. It means the empire truly wants control of the Western Dominion, or there’s something here so dangerous that a Golden Knight was summoned. He had thoughts, but whether they were correct was another matter.

A pale light began to filter down from ahead; they were nearing the end of the descending steps. Suddenly, Dunn felt a chill, as though something was slithering across his skin. His senses sharpened instantly. He recognized this sensation—it came from something tied to the Astra.

Was there something blasphemous down there?!

Ren also stiffened, his actions betraying his tension. Clearly, he could feel the same crawling sensation. Dunn couldn’t afford to ignore the Chaplain now. As much as he didn’t want to believe it, it was all too common for chaplains—or even priests—to become ensnared by things from the Astra.

The things that create mutants.

He remained silent, preparing to summon a flame bomb in case anything suspicious happened with the Chaplain. Unlike most shard-armors, his didn’t come with a sword that could be summoned at will. Instead, he either morphed his flames into a weapon or found an actual chain sword to wield.

They stepped into the hall.

It wasn’t large, but the ceiling loomed high above them. Eternal lamps lined the walls, casting a steady glow that brought a certain warmth to the room, though this heat was balanced out by the scattered icestones and cold grass patches. The icestones were dark stones with faint bluish frost trapped inside, while the cold tails—a patch of grass fading from green to nearly blue—added an eerie coolness to the space.

All of these could only be found in the Western Dominion.

But none of that held Dunn’s attention. His gaze was locked on the centerpiece of the room: a towering stone gate, twice the height of a man. Its shape resembled the rounded frame of a mirror, with pointed tips at the top and bottom. The “mirror” itself had a dark, swirling center, like a doorway into a vast, black ocean, faintly dotted with countless specks of white light.

Waygate! Dunn realized.

_____________

Hours spent exploring the city—a tactic.

The red dust fell slowly as Karl walked through the streets, stepping carefully on the cobblestones, avoiding carriages and the hurried passersby. He focused inward, often attempting to count the numerous stars in his "face of the soul," but he always lost track after five hundred or so. Still, the repetition was a reminder of the countless components that existed within him.

Simply looking at it made the idea of the memories not as dreadful as before. He shook his head and sighed. Power really does change things. He contemplated many thoughts as he took a bite of the cake he was holding, savoring the spiciness as it slid down his throat and into his stomach.

Just then, on the side of the narrow road, a small two-story white apartment stood, stained with red. Sandwiched between two other buildings, it looked squat and cramped, with hardly any space between them. In front of the building was a man dressed in a long white coat buttoned up the center, wearing black trousers with white stripes down the sides.

The man was looking around, shouting, "100 ments for someone to explore the underground of my house!"

He wants someone to explore his house? Karl listened passively for a few moments, taking another bite from his cake.

The man grew more desperate. "Please, it's important. I need it for construction!"

The building doesn’t seem to need repairs, so who is this man? A noble or maybe a tycoon? In Canen, only nobles or tycoons could afford to build an apartment.

Stolen novel; please report.

Karl listened for a bit longer but eventually moved on. He had no interest in whatever the man was talking about. He had only stopped to better understand the city of Canen, but he did learn something from the brief exchange.

It appeared that the women of Canen had a peculiar affinity for their shoulders and arms. Not once, not twice, but multiple times he had seen women dressed in white gowns with translucent silk sleeves that revealed much of their arms. They would occasionally flaunt it, walking in a way that made their arms swing about.

It struck him as odd.

The men who ogled the women with smooth, bare arms seemed aroused by it. Weird, Karl thought. This was the first time he had internally criticized the culture of the Canens. He had done it often with other cultures, though he found the culture of Clegane City quite appealing—at least with their concept of Freehands and Soundhands.

Karl sighed, feeling his focus wane.

Looking for a moment to think, Karl stopped at an unassuming wide road, leaning against the wall of an extremely red-stained building. It seemed as though the owners had done little to clean it—or maybe no one lived there anymore. He couldn’t be sure.

His presence quickly attracted attention. Men and women frowned at him as they passed by. A few even spoke up.

"Don't you see that's dirty?"

"What are you, Antigonus?"

"Must be one of those who don’t worship the White."

"What a hooligan."

The people of Canen were not fond of secrets, not even in their own thoughts.

Nevertheless, he ignored them. Their words stirred no real emotion in him.

What do I have with me? Karl thought back to the things he had gathered during his few days in the city.

A serum, or at least the blood... A sudden thought struck him. Would the blood spoil if it’s not kept cold? For all he knew, the blood of Sanguine creatures might have some special properties that prevented it from spoiling. But... Even if it does spoil, does that impact the outcome of evolution? Fredrick hadn’t mentioned what would happen if the blood spoiled before the serum was concocted. He probably didn’t think of it, seeing as I wasn’t supposed to need evolution.

Karl sighed, refocusing. Who to kill?... Galf, Olmer... He paused as something caught his eye.

A young girl, barely seven years old, was chasing a black ash hound—a type of dog in this world. She ran to the center of the road, twirling as the hound ran circles around her, her laughter filled with joy.

Karl’s eyes flicked ahead. A carriage was barreling down the road at tremendous speed. Streetwalkers were jumping out of its path, shouting and cursing at it. The carriage was drawn by a black-scaled lizard, which seemed out of control, its frantic movements indicating it was ready to crash into anything. And from the way it was moving, the girl was directly in its path.

About 15 seconds before impact! His mind raced. He stepped forward but stopped abruptly. What do I gain from doing this? The question echoed in his head. He watched the carriage draw dangerously close to the child.

If I save her, my name will spread, which will attract the attention of the Ministry and further restrict my actions. He glanced at the girl, sighed, and leaned back against the wall. Survival was his priority. He had to keep reminding himself of that.

The streetwalkers noticed the impending disaster. They called out to the girl, some waving, others shouting, but she was oblivious to it all. She was too busy, foolishly chasing her dog—unaware that it would soon lead to her demise.

The carriage reached her.

Time seemed to slow as if the world had come to a standstill. Karl watched as the girl stood just inches away from the lizard’s frenzied open mouth. Its long tongue snapped like a whip, its legs raised, ready to crush her into paste. She remained blissfully unaware, petting her ash hound, as red dust slowly fell around her.

So stupid, Karl thought.

Just then, something slammed into the lizard. Time seemed to restart—at least to Karl. The creature was flung into the air as if grabbed and tossed violently. The carriage, still attached to the lizard, was yanked up with it, the wooden frame flying along with the creature.

Boom!

The carriage crashed to the ground, splintering into jagged shards of wood, wheels rolling off, and red dust billowing out. The lizard was mangled, its head twisted grotesquely to the opposite side of its neck. Only its tail continued to thrash, the last sign of life in its broken body.

The beast had landed on top of the wrecked carriage, impaled by the wooden spikes. What just happened? Karl thought, turning toward the little girl. A woman now stood beside her, gently rubbing her hair.

Karl suddenly felt an unsettling sense of déjà vu. Is this woman going to form some kind of connection with me now? Have me do something for her? He had experienced similar strange encounters before.

The woman was dressed in a unique kefna—not the typical flowing skirt for women, but white trousers. She had a slender figure, her short black hair ending in sharp, spiked tips around her neck. She carried a silver sword at her waist, her left hand covered with a buttoned sleeve, while her right arm was bare and adorned with numerous chains and jewels.

Freehand and Soundhand! Karl realized. The sight reminded him of the Cognizer he had encountered. Could this be the same person? Maybe she can change her form, like Tyro? He quickly dismissed the thought. There’s no way a member of Clegane Knight City is here. And even if she were, why reveal herself just to save some random girl?

Karl didn’t like dealing with unknowns. He stared at the woman until, suddenly, her head turned, and their eyes locked.

No!

Quickly, Karl pushed himself away from the wall and began walking at a brisk pace, trying not to appear nervous. He wasn’t about to get involved in someone else’s drama.

After a few minutes, he found an alleyway with a dead end and an iron trash container. Ignoring the smell, he leaned against it and exhaled. Did I make it?

Just then, a strange pull from the sky hit him. His mind flashed back to the tree forest memory, and instinctively, he leaped as if trying to land on a branch. That was a mistake. The moment his feet left the ground, he was yanked upward, hurtling into the sky at whistling speeds.

Dust swirled around him as he ascended, floating in the empty crimson sky. White sunlight pierced through the dense black clouds, casting rays of light onto the city below. From up here, the rooftops looked like they were coated in blood, the rest of the world a blur.

Alarm set in as Karl frantically looked around. How did I end up here? He knew that falling from this height wouldn’t end well. No amount of physical augmentation could save him from being crushed into paste upon impact—joining the redness below.

Then he saw her. Out of nowhere, the woman who had saved the girl appeared beside him. Startled but not surprised, Karl felt the frustration rise. I thought I had escaped this kind of nonsense.

Before he could say anything, the woman spoke. "You’re coming with me."

Coming where?

Whoosh!

Karl was suddenly pulled forward at an unnerving speed, the wind and dust blasting his face while his hair whipped wildly. He had to shut his eyes to avoid being blinded by the redness and the force of the wind. Not this again.

His descent brought him close to the rooftops, spires, and keeps. Yet, he expertly dodged them—or rather, whoever was controlling his movement did.

He soon approached a two-story stone building at an unnatural speed. Am I going to crash into it? just as the thought crossed his mind, he tilted in midair and was flung through a stone window.