Novels2Search
The Life of a Battlemage
14. Outskirts of Hepestus

14. Outskirts of Hepestus

Rifi avoided human interaction as much as possible during his journey back. Stopping only in one or two small villages to acquire clothing that would help him blend in, he sought to remain inconspicuous. Though no one would likely recognize him in Hepestus, his legionnaire garb was unmistakable, and Rifi preferred to keep a low profile. The nondescript clothes weren't a necessity, but he knew it was wise to avoid drawing attention.

As he traveled, he hunted his own food, relishing the taste of something other than the fish he'd grown accustomed to in the cave.

"Ohhh," Rifi muttered, as he roasted a rabbit over the fire, "I forgot how good real food tastes… though, ugh, still a bit fishy, eh?"

The memory of fish seemed to haunt him, lingering on his tongue despite the change in diet. After months of isolation in the cave, those small details seemed to stick, even as he approached the familiar grounds of Hepestus.

Finally, after four days of travel, Rifi arrived at the northern barracks just outside the city. The memories of his past life in the city-state surged back to him.

"Heh, it hasn't changed at all," he thought, smirking while scratching the back of his head. "Well… I guess I'm not exactly the same. One new scar to add to the collection."

Rifi's hand reflexively moved to the round mark on his body where the spear had torn into him during the battle. His thoughts were a mixture of humor and anxiety. He was nervous—not for battle, but for the reunion he feared might not go the way he hoped.

"It's easier to face death than it is to face a disappointed friend," he thought bitterly, the knot in his stomach tightening. What if Rudeus and Lucilia have given up on me? What if they think I'm a deserter? These worries gnawed at him as he slipped into the crowd of citizens moving in and out of the city gates.

Four guards stood watch at the entrance, their eyes scanning the crowd for anything suspicious. Most of the people passing through were workers, regulars who came and went daily. The guards rarely stopped them. As was customary, there was always a purple-core mage on standby at the gates, overseeing security. Other mages were nearby, performing errands and repairs, managing the comings and goings of the city.

Rifi blended into the throng of people, his hood low, eyes hidden, moving with the ease of someone who had mastered the art of not being noticed. He released a thin, almost imperceptible layer of lightning mana, extending it fifty meters around him. His senses expanded as he felt the mana interact with everything in the vicinity. He could now move unseen, reading the guards' positions without even looking at them.

If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.

Their attention was elsewhere.

"You should really come with us after this shift," one of the guards said, nudging his companion. "Last time was insane. Festus and Livius got so drunk they overslept their shift the next day! Captain made them scrub the toilets for a whole week. Ha!"

The other guard snorted, but then his eyes caught on a stranger. "Hey, you there! Show me your identification."

The man they stopped was dressed like Rifi—ragged, with the look of someone fresh off the streets. Rifi could sense his weak mana; the man had likely just awakened and was here to join the legions.

Poor guy, Rifi thought, the brief interaction making his escape even easier. Two guards were now focused on the newcomer. Rifi continued weaving through the crowd, avoiding the guards' lines of sight with careful precision. He positioned himself perfectly behind other travelers, blending in so well it was as if he vanished entirely.

Dodging the guards' perception wasn't difficult for Rifi. He had done far more difficult tasks before. They were low-tier mages—just like he had been once. It didn't take much effort for him to avoid their gaze. The guards weren't even using their mana-sensing abilities, likely to conserve their energy during the shift.

A few swift movements, well-timed with the ebb and flow of the crowd, and Rifi was through the gate.

"Ah, the sweet stench of piss," Rifi muttered sarcastically as he entered the city's outskirts. "Who could forget that smell?"

The stench of the city's lower quarters hit him hard, far worse than he remembered. The last time he had walked these streets, he had grown so accustomed to the smell that it didn't bother him. But now, after so much time in the clean, open air, it was almost unbearable.

Rudeus's house was in the northern district, close enough that Rifi wouldn't have to walk through the wealthier parts of the city to find him. That was fortunate—the north housed the poor, and Rifi had no desire to interact with the upper-class citizens in the south and west sides of Hepestus.

As Rifi walked, he took in the familiar streets. The north was filled with dilapidated buildings, many of them on the verge of collapse. Small food vendors and makeshift shops lined the roads, offering simple goods to the people who could barely afford to survive. The streets teemed with activity, yet a heavy weight seemed to hang over everything. Life here was harsh, but Rifi had once called it home.

He watched the vendors selling their goods, the children playing in the streets, the tired faces of the working class. This was a world of struggle and hardship, but also one of resilience. Rifi felt a mixture of pride and disgust.

How did we get used to this? he wondered. How did we just accept living like this?

But the people in the outskirts clung to the hope that one day they might rise above it all. They chose this life in the city, with its misery and uncertainty, rather than the simple life beyond the walls. Here, they believed, was the chance for greatness.

As Rifi wandered through the streets, lost in thought, he suddenly realized that he had already arrived in front of Rudeus's home. It was a modest house just outside the outskirts, better than most in the northern district but far from extravagant. Rifi's heart pounded in his chest.

What if they think I'm dead? What if they hate me for not coming back sooner?

Taking a deep breath, he stepped forward. There was only one way to find out.