When gazing upon this scene, the first view one would see were the countless stalls lined up, situated upon their own niches. With how many the stalls were, it goes to say that the overall look wasn’t exactly organized nor pleasant to look at. These stalls had varying qualities, no common design can be found at all; ranging from simple shacks that were open to all and to intricate stands that gave off an air of exclusivity. Even the sizes and the distances between the stalls had no overarching plan--it was clear that the owners of these stalls did not bother to coordinate with the others. By now, one would get the impression that this place was not something that was meant to be admired in terms of its look. But even then, it was intriguing enough to have some sort of curiosity-satisfying allure to it.

On these stalls, a plethora of products and items were brought out for people to choose from. Based on the physical appearances of these items, one could infer that each served a certain role; from simple wares for common households to have, to items of severe peculiarity that most wouldn’t even be able to guess its use. This place was a market -- a place for people to gather and, more importantly to buy and sell what they so desire.

People of different statuses apparent by the difference in the quality of their attires, mingled with one another in this bustling scene. Wherever you look, instances of haggling and ceaseless banter could be seen and heard—some were even comical to look at, like the case of a man wearing nothing but worn-out drabs trying to ‘negotiate’ with another man dressed in an impeccable and noble manner.

All sorts of things could be seen in this marketplace; there was no such thing as a moment of inactivity for the people involved.

But with a momentary glance, no matter who, all could easily distinguished a lone man shuffling along with the crowd. His gait was neither fast nor slow—it was a pace suitable for a relaxing stroll. He was equipped in a manner that was reminiscent of a Knight: plate armor that shone with luster under the glistening sun and a dazzling larger-than-average longsword on his side. With each step, the rhythmic sound of steel clashing onto one another rang out. His age --while it can’t be considered young, nor be called old-- was already suitable to be one’s father. His overall appearance could only be described as regal and overbearing like that of a noble. But contrary to what one would expect—his face was completely devoid of such qualities, but in place was the impression of being amiable and kind to all. In short, he was approachable.

He would briefly paused at random moments as he walked, in order to receive the warm welcomes and respectful gestures he would get from the people around him. The old, the men, women and even kids admired and praised him wherever he goes. In a lot of times, he would play with the kids when the time sufficed. In some, he would chat the day away with the men. And when necessary, he would help both the old and the women with everyday things. This was his usual routine--he would happily stroll and linger in the marketplace to pass the time.

In the Order, he could be considered as the eccentric few, but no matter how eccentric he was—no one would doubt his competence as a Knight. With his abilities, he could easily be on par with the Heroes of some Kingdoms. And when the conditions were just right, he could best them in battle. This was his true extent.

“Thanks for playing again with us, Mister Knight!” One of the kids had shouted from the distance. And the man responded back with a smile on his face, “You kids go along now, it’s almost lunchtime.” And the kids trotted off with a peculiar timing to their steps.

But after awhile, he decided to end his leisurely stroll as he was now satisfied with the day.

“I should head back. Those old fools won’t let me off this time.” He remarked under his breath, as he noticed that the sun was finally at its highest point. It was already noon. And with a sigh, he continued “The amount of free-time I get keeps getting smaller and smaller now.” Then he went off, heading towards the direction of the Order’s Great Keep, leaving behind the marketplace.

But not too long since he left the marketplace—as he walked on the road, the sounds of voices tinged with doubts and concern travelled to his ears. Bested by his curiosity, he briefly looked at the source and saw that the people responsible were gawking and pointing at something from afar; he paused in order to the same. But as he did so, his expression changed to a soft frown.

On the rooftops, a boy was jumping from one building to another without a care in the world--but it was not the kind of ‘jumping’ a mischievous and bored child would make. No, with a Knight’s enhanced vision, he could clearly see that the kid was frantic and stricken with fear made apparent by the vivid despair on his face; he was being chased.

Trailing just behind the boy was a small group of men clad in black cloaks. Their appearances completely shut off to the outside world and movements so nimble that it appeared to the untrained eye that they were graciously floating as they traversed from one rooftop to another-- like the vile and ominous specters he had once fought in a brief campaign against the corruption of the Nether far north. But unlike those specters he had fought, the black-cloaked men were clearly of the living, because it was nigh-impossible for the living dead to roam within these walls.

Noticing that the boy was in mortal danger, he unhesitatingly abandoned such trivial thoughts and judged that if he did not make haste, with the kind of skill those black-cloaked men seemed to possess, it won’t take long for them to shorten the distance from the boy. Thus he immediately sprinted towards the boy’s general direction, intending to intercept the black-cloaked men’s pursuit. Surprised voices could be heard as dust and grime flew everywhere as he sprinted off. To the common man, he would look nothing more but a blur as he moved--it testified to his speed.

But not long after, his sprint was awkwardly cut short as the road he took was filled with throngs of people—completely blocking his path. “Not good!” he exclaimed. He instantly realized his mistake; it was noon. It was a time when the streets were filled the most. Luck was clearly not in his favor. But he must not hesitate any further.

He looked once more towards the direction of the boy, to confirm what needs to be done. He was being chased still, but this time, the distance from his pursuers was shorter than before—and more importantly, the boy was clearly exhausted indicated by his heavy gasping for breath. Time, too, was not in his favor. He needed to move, and fast.

Then, he suddenly jerked his vision to the side. In view was a building with a height of roughly ten meters. He knew he needed to make a decision now, thus he sprinted once more--his direction was the building in view. In merely a second, he had already reached the frontside but he did not show any signs of stopping at all--unexpectedly, he actually increased his speed even more. But in sync with the sudden burst of speed, an inconspicuous orb of dim-green light roughly the size of two fists materialized just beneath his next step.

As soon as he took that step, an amazing sight had occurred. Instantaneously, a momentary gust of wind that was perceivable to the naked eye engulfed his lower body when he stepped on the orb, and in that brief moment, his body disappeared from view. It was truly unbelievable.

With his speed, the result should had been him crashing towards the wall and his noble objective of saving the boy cut short. But it was not the case, instead, his velocity was forcibly changed and he flew into the air with a speed comparable to him sprinting from before. He had a grimace on his face--clearly he was in pain. The pressure of forcibly changing his direction was not an easy thing to endure, but he had succeeded in what he needed to do; he had now exceeded the building’s height.

But there was a problem, he was parallel to the building and had no foothold or anything at all for him to step on. Thus, before gravity took hold and hamper his speed, another orb materialized just behind him and immediately jerked himself back in order to invoke the orb. And in response, the orb transformed into another gust of wind and instantly propelled him forward. The pressure this time was greater than before--his speed was now two-fold. Achieving this kind of speed within the span of time this man did would be impossible for most, but the man in question had achieved the impossible. With this speed, he was sent flying in a smooth parabola.

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A metallic blur was whistling through the air above as lines of dim-green light trailed behind it. And with a deep thud, it had landed on one of the rooftops below. Visibly, the metallic blur rolled to negate some of the impact; it was a man clad in heavy armor but afterwards was enveloped by a cover of dust that was agitated from the resulting shock. Frightened voices from below could be heard as the rooftop had signs of collapsing under the immense weight, but surprisingly still held on. Then, it vividly creaked as the immense weight shifted to one side-- the weight above started to move.

As soon as he landed, he moved his gaze towards the direction of the boy in order to confirm the general situation. They were terrifyingly close. The one leading was only a few steps away and the boy was on the verge of passing out from exhaustion—but oddly enough, when the boy was one step away from losing consciousness, a glint passed through his eyes as he lurched back and continued to run. On his face was an expression of resolute will, unlike the despair he had before. His face implicitly stated that he refuse to give up—after all, this was his life on the line. He was definitely running on fumes, but he was running still.

Nostalgia overwhelmed him as he gazed at the stubborn determination of the boy. Commendable. You did well on not giving up—now, it’s time for me to fulfill my duty as a Knight.

And as he praised the boy in his thoughts, multiple orbs of light appeared right in front of him. Their numbers ranging into the dozens. As the lights materialized, he too moved into a battle-worthy stance: knees braced and a sword engraved with runes in hand. It was one of his principles that he shouldn’t underestimate his enemies nor overestimate himself.

He was now in the middle of the two; the boy just passed him and the black-cloaked men stopped in their tracks as if they were hesitating on what to do.

But with such a dynamic entry and the appearance of an unknown and imposing man prepared for battle, the black-cloaked men obviously didn’t stand idle. The two behind the one leading immediately moved to either sides intending to deal with the sudden intruder. Their movements were so precise and in sync that it was natural for one to be in awe; it was like they were trained since the day they were born. Their movements seemed enigmatic and hard to comprehend, especially when added with their mysterious black cloaks. No matter how, they moved in a way not unlike a specter; pitch-black smoke radiated from their person as they shifted from one place to another. It made them hard to grasp where they really were, and consequently hard to kill.

But he stood unfazed regardless, even when faced with the palpable killing intent-- instead, he had a soft smile as they closed on him.

One. Two. Three. Three orbs pulsed as a response, one changed color into a fiery blaze, another into a dim-green, and the remaining one shone with an earthly luster.

The two black-cloaked men decided to strike at that time. They weaved within the puffs of black smoke in order to disorient their foe, and would use this moment to ruthlessly gut him down. A cruel tactic that would leave the inexperienced and the incompetent unable to retaliate at all.

Using the black smoke as cover, both cloaks opened up and underneath each revealed a hand clutching onto an ominous dagger with a magical sheen that could easily cut through steel. They were preparing themselves for the kill.

But as they pounced in for the killing blow--a fiery orb was horizontally slashed by a longsword with an unusually broad blade. And with that as a catalyst, a wave of fire replicating the horizontal sweep of the sword emerged and cascaded in front, completely engulfing everything in its path--even the black smoke. Unfortunately, from the blazing fire still came the glint of a dagger-tip, aimed at his neck--the man neglected his own safety and suffered life-threatening burns in order to end it there and now.

But he had just started retracting his sword, there was no time to dodge nor block! But all this time, he still had that soft smile on his face.

Surprisingly, the earthly orb was already there and intercepted the blade’s path. The blade was stopped like it had hit a solid wall, the orb was visibly depressed. And as it did, the earthly orb exploded not a moment later into a hail of rocks that easily pierced the man. Bones and flesh were torn asunder as gaping holes of differing sizes riddled his body—from them, blood oozed eerily. It was a sickening sight, and the man lifelessly dropped down like a puppet with its strings cut.

A killer turned prey in mere moments.

But the other one on his right was indifferent to his companion’s death. Instead, as soon as the man recovered himself from the spontaneous flame blast by sacrificing his black cloak—the man immediately rushed in.

He had already retracted his sword when the man on the left had turned into a corpse. Compared to his close-encounter with death just now, this time he was prepared to strike back. Especially so when the black smoke that impeded his vision was no more—this time, he could fight like a Knight.

The remaining opponent was slightly scorched and gave off the appearance of a man who already had one foot in the grave; he was deathly pale without the cloak, and had traces of burns all over his face. But that didn’t hinder him from taking the chance of striking the first blow. The same kind of dagger, but aimed at a different spot—this time, he slashed overhead, with a speed that should easily robbed the man’s life. At the same time, unbeknownst to him an orb repositioned itself behind the slash, colored dim-green.

I need to end this. There’s still another one.

In one fluid upward motion, the hand holding the dagger was cut off, and fell down with a thump. A look of surprise flowed across the pale man’s face--it was but an instant and his hand was already cut off.

Impossible!, he thought--they were known for their unmatched speed and the man in front of him easily surpassed him with a casual swipe.

But before he could understand what had happened and react accordingly, the blade that had cut his hand collided with the orb above and a controlled gust of wind forcefully propelled the blade downward. He was slashed clean through; a diagonal cut starting from the shoulder and ending at the waist. And with a sound like a wet sack being dropped-- his body now in two, laid motionless below other than an occasional twitch.

A corpse on both sides.

Immediately, he looked around for the last one. He braced himself for one more fight, his hands clutched tightly onto the handle of his blade. But the enemy was no longer in sight, he had fled. Strange

Fortunately, the boy was still here, breathing and alive but unconscious from the exhaustion.

He gazed at his surrounding. Blood was splayed across the rooftop; the roof was in disarray and some parts were even scorched beyond recognition; traces of flesh and innards were scattered everywhere and two mangled corpses. It was an absolute mess. He scratched his head and shrugged afterwards. There was nothing he could do.

He sheathed his sword once more, and went back into a relaxed posture like the one he had before. The remaining orbs started to slowly dissipate, as particles scattered around. His armor was bloodied and covered in grime but no worthwhile damage, excluding the depressions from the rough-landing he did before-- a trip to the Knightsmith won’t fix.

He took one last glance at the boy fainted on the ground, and he sighed, “Those old fools won’t definitely let me off this time...”