“Let us register your identity first,” the guard said, hastily leading away the little troublemakers deeper into the city before they could truly kill him from fright. And to the guard’s relief, neither Alnea, nor the girls objected his suggestion. Though they were not afraid of the Wanderers surrounding them, being stared at by dozens of hostile gazes from all sides was not very comforting. And they quite looked forward to exploring more of the city.
“The buildings… they sure are unique,” Alnea said, glancing at the buildings on either side of the streets. Contrary to the buildings that he had seen in Anneve, none of the buildings in the Lost City looked like houses. Rather, they looked more like broad towers, with unnecessarily large number of windows.
“Were the buildings in the Age of Gods built like this?”
“No,” Yuri said, looking at the buildings with interest. “I have seen records of some legacies of the Age of Gods… and none of them had buildings like these.”
“That is because those buildings were built for luxury,” the guard said, not even bothering to look back at them. He just pointed to the buildings on their right, and said, “Do you see the windows in the buildings? Each one of them represents a room.”
“So many rooms in one building?” Cecilia mumbled, stroking the cat’s back, as it closed its eyes in pleasure. Her attention was not on the cat though, but on the buildings around them. In a strange, twisted sense of humour, all the buildings on the streets, and even those beyond the streets, had the same characteristics.
“…Are we supposed to live in such tiny rooms?”
The guard paused, and turned towards Cecilia, finally showing a hint of smile. And though he was quick to hide, all of them saw the schadenfreude hidden within the man’s smile.
“Of course not. Not to mention larger rooms, there are even mansions in the city, which you can claim all for yourselves. But everything in the city has a price. Even these tiny rooms. If you cannot afford them, then you can only roam the streets, and search for unsuspecting prey, like the Wanderers you saw earlier.”
“…I am assuming that this price does not refer to Orus, or Oren Stones,” Yuri said, analysing the smile on the guard’s face. “Or else, those scions of the Orthodoxies would not be left to rot on the streets.”
“You are sharp, as expected of the juniors of an honoured guest of the city,” the guard said, still sporting his fake smile. “All your Orus and Oren Stones became worthless the moment you stepped through the gates of the city. Because within the Lost City, the only recognised form of currency is Blood Coins.”
“Then why do you charge Oren Stones as entrance fees to the city?”
The smile on the guard’s face became stiff as he turned towards the stupid boy, cursing him in his mind.
“Those are the rules,” the guard said in a solemn voice, before turning around, and walking away, not caring whether the troublemakers were following him or not. Only on the surface though. Hiding behind his nonchalant attitude, he did not forget to deliberately match his pace with the troublemakers enjoying the view of the city, ensuring that they always kept up with him.
However, his blatant actions made it hard for him to hide his intentions from Alnea, and the girls. Fortunately for the guard, they decided not to embarrass him any further. The poor man was probably just trying to maintain his dignified image as a True Wanderer. Antagonising him needlessly was not a good idea. Especially since he was also supposed to tell them about the city’s rules.
Still, they were not afraid of the guard either. They did not care for what the man was thinking, and walked through the streets, observing the city at their leisure. The most notable thing about the city was the stench of blood, of course. And the battered Wanderers roaming the streets, looking for their prey—whatever that meant. There were other Wanderers too, decently dressed Wanderers, who went about their own ways. But even they were keeping distance from the other Wanderers, avoiding them like plague.
Once he looked past the Wanderers though, and all the blood in the city, he noticed the most uncomfortable aspect of the city. The heat. Even in the midst of winter, Enn’s light felt like fire raining down upon his skin. And the buildings, made from metals, felt boiling to touch. They were acting like countless miniature Enns on the ground, making the air itself shimmer and wobble with heat.
No wonder the Wanderers forced onto the streets were so battered. Bearing such heat… It was nothing less than a torture. And yet, desperate as they were, those Wanderers still refused to leave the city. What exactly was in the city that made them willing to risk their lives and sanity?
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While Alnea was lost in his thoughts, the guard led them around a corner, and finally stopped in front of the largest building on the street. It was also the first building with a different design that they had seen in the city.
From the first glance, it looked like big sis Serena’s mansion, if her mansion was four to five times as tall. The building also had a red roof instead of a green one, which was shaped more like a dome than a shed. Not to mention the windows. Though most of the building’s windows were concentrated on the lower floors, the sheer number of windows those lower floors had was still enough to mark the building as something unique to the Lost City.
“This is the Northern District’s Sixth Blood Hall,” the guard said, finally willing to look at them. With a straight face though, and not with a smile. “The place which will decide whether you can enter the inner city, or whether you will have to leave the city. For the moment though, we are here to register your identities.”
“Northern District’s Sixth Blood Hall… Are there more such halls in the city?”
“The Lost City is much larger than you can imagine,” the guard said, turning towards Alnea. “Just the outer city itself is divided into four districts. And all districts have fifteen Blood Halls.”
“Sixty Blood Halls,” Alnea mumbled, while Yuri used the chance to ask her own question.
“Are there any differences between these Blood Halls?”
“…All the Blood Halls in the outer city are the same. If you insist on finding a difference between them, then I guess you can take their jurisdictions as a difference. Each Blood Hall is responsible for a particular part of the city. The gate through which you entered the city comes under the jurisdiction of the Northern District’s Sixth Blood Hall, which makes it the Blood Hall where you have to register your identity, and report in the future. At least until you stay in the outer city, that is.”
“…It sounds like an interesting place.”
“…There are still a few things I need to tell you about, but that will come later. For now, let us not waste time, and register your identities,” the guard said, and charged straight towards the stairs leading to the Blood Hall. And as ignorant as they were about the city, and its rules, Alnea and the girls had no choice but to follow the guard. Still, Alnea did not waste his chance to observe the Blood Hall from a close distance.
Conforming to the aesthetics of the Lost City, the Blood Hall was taller than any buildings he had seen in Anneve. Even in the Lost City, it could be regarded as one of the tallest buildings. Probably around fifteen, or sixteen storeys tall. Maybe more. And it was large. Not as large as big sis Serena’s mansion, but it was large, nonetheless. And unique. Deviating from the other buildings in the area, its main entrance was not on the ground, but on the third storey. They had to use the stairs, creeping its way from the streets all the way to point where the portico of the building began, just to reach the main entrance of the building.
Unique as the stairs were though, the entrance of the building was also just as unique. A pair of giant red doors, carved with figures similar to those carved on the gates of the city. They were not as large as the gates of the city, of course. Still, they were twice as tall as him. So, probably a little over three metres. And they seemed to be heavy. Fortunately, the doors were already open, with Wanderers constantly making their way in and out of the building.
Surprisingly enough, all the Wanderers seemed to have let their guards down around the building. The same Wanderers, who did not dare to step within five metres of each other, did not even bother to turn when other Wanderers brushed past their shoulders. They still seemed a little jerky, and tense, but that was probably from being too tense all the time. Regardless, it was evident that the Blood Hall was akin to some kind of haven for the Wanderers of Lost City.
And yet, none of the Wanderers seemed keen on roaming within the Blood Hall needlessly. After all, even with hundreds of people in the hall, with the main hall being nearly three storeys tall—in retrospect, he should have expected the building to be different on the inside from how it looked on the outside— there was plenty of room for even more people to comfortably fit in the hall. For some reason though, everyone seemed to be in some kind of hurry.
Even the guard, as he led them into the hall, did not dare to loiter around, and led them directly to their destination. To a wooden table, adoring exquisite carvings—stories of a time long gone. Or maybe of a time that the never existed. What caught Alnea’s attention though, was not the table itself, but the red robed Wanderer standing behind the table. She was unlike the other Wanderers he had seen in the city.
Usually, unless Wanderers are nearing the end of their lives, rarely do they show any signs of ageing. It was not for no reason that his master had often warned him not to judge other Wanderers just on their looks. Yet even though he could not tell the red robed woman’s age, there was something about her that set her apart from the other Wanderers chaotically making their way in the hall. And it was not just the woman.
There were around twenty to thirty counters in the hall, with just as many Wanderers behind those counters. And all of those Wanderers had an air of calm, and confidence about them. Even though they did not look much older than other Wanderers in the hall, he could not mistake maturity with which they carried themselves, exuding an air of strength. Something that even the guard did not have.
“Newbies?” the red robed woman behind the counter mumbled, glancing at Alnea and the girls. “Another bunch of kids rushing towards their ruins.”
“…Just give them their Blood Cards. I still need to tell them about the rules of the city.”
“Oh?” the woman said, glancing at them with interest. “Geniuses then? But that will only make their fall harder, and uglier.”
Ignoring the impatient guard, the woman turned around, and rummaged through the shelves carved directly into the walls of the hall, and took out three blood red metal sheets, around as large as his palms. On second thought, they were indeed more like ‘Blood Cards’ that the guard had mentioned. Was it—