After leaving the mercenaries camp, I didn’t waste time reaching the outskirts of Valoria. Pulling on the reins of my horse, I slowed down, taking in the breathtaking view before me.

The city stretched majestically at my feet, its towering gray stone walls proudly overlooking the valley. Roofs of gleaming red tiles reflected the setting sun, giving the city a warm, welcoming glow.

I couldn’t help but whistle in admiration. This was nothing like the small villages I’d passed through so far. Valoria had an entirely different scale—a city that felt alive with purpose.

Just as I was about to move forward, my interface activated suddenly, the hum of magical communication ringing in my mind.

“Griffith? This is Dean Eleazar. Can you hear me?”

Startled by the unexpected call, I tensed. “Yes, Eleazar. It’s me. What’s going on?” I replied, keeping my tone steady.

“I wanted to check on you,” his brusque voice came through. “It’s been two days since you left. Have you encountered any trouble on the road?”

I nodded to myself, even though he couldn’t see me. “Nothing too serious, don’t worry. Actually, I managed to pick up an extraordinary sword from the Black Market.”

A flicker of excitement crept into my voice. “It’s a fascinating weapon with incredible properties. Let me explain...”

I launched into an enthusiastic description of my new gear—its ability to absorb light, its mysterious origin.

Eleazar listened without interrupting. When I finished, there was a pause before he finally spoke, his tone thoughtful.

“I see… That’s quite intriguing. But tell me, where are you now?”

“I’m just outside the city of Valoria,” I said with a smile. “It’s a beautiful place. I can’t wait to explore it in detail.”

A low grunt reached me through the magical connection. “Valoria, huh? Be careful, Griffith. That city has a bad reputation these days.”

I frowned at the warning. “What do you mean? What’s wrong with Valoria?”

“The king who rules there isn’t well-liked,” Eleazar sighed. “He’s a cruel, tyrannical man who oppresses his people without mercy. Keep your guard up.”

A chill ran down my spine at his words. A tyrant king? That didn’t bode well. But, in this world, rulers like him weren’t exactly rare.

“I understand your warning, Eleazar,” I said calmly. “But don’t worry, I’ll be cautious. I have no intention of stirring up trouble.”

“Good,” he said curtly. “And remember your responsibilities, Griffith. The Academy doesn’t wait.”

I suppressed a sigh. Here we go again. That man just couldn’t let me breathe.

“Of course, Dean Eleazar. I haven’t forgotten my duties,” I reassured him with a wry smile. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’d like to explore Valoria a bit.”

“Very well, very well,” he grumbled. “Take care, Griffith. And let me know if you discover anything.”

“Understood. Have a good evening, Eleazar,” I concluded, cutting the connection.

A short sigh escaped me as I deactivated the interface. Eleazar was relentless when it came to my obligations.

Still, he had a point—if this king was truly as oppressive as he claimed, I needed to tread carefully. Tightening my grip on the reins, I nudged my horse toward the gates of Valoria.

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As I approached, two armed guards stepped forward, blocking my path.

“Halt! State your business,” one of them barked.

I stopped my horse and raised my hands peacefully. “Good evening, gentlemen. My name is Griffith, a mage from the Academy of Golden river,” I said calmly.

The second guard narrowed his eyes, scrutinizing my attire. “A mage, huh? Let’s see your identification card, then.”

I nodded, reaching into my pocket to retrieve the card. Handing it over, I watched as he examined it carefully, his face impassive.

After a few moments, he nodded in approval. “All right, you may pass. Welcome to Valoria, Mage Griffith.”

He gave me a polite smile and stepped aside, his colleague following suit. I let out a breath of relief as I entered the city. That had gone much smoother than I expected.

Despite Eleazar’s warning, the guards hadn’t been much trouble. That was good news—it meant I could slip into Valoria unnoticed.

Looking around with curiosity, I couldn’t help but be impressed by the lively energy of the streets. Merchants shouted their wares, people bustled back and forth, and the air was filled with chatter and laughter.

Suddenly, a sharp cry pierced the air, making me flinch. Whipping around, I spotted a man jeering loudly, his face twisted in mockery.

“Ha! Did you hear that? That fool of a king really thinks he can keep fooling us with his empty promises!” he shouted, drawing chuckles from a few passersby.

Frowning, I edged closer, intrigued by the commotion. The man continued his antics, mocking the king’s authority, until a royal guard, silent and stoic, stepped forward.

Without a word, the soldier drew his sword and, in one swift motion, slit the man’s throat.

Gasps erupted from the crowd as the man collapsed in a choking heap, blood pooling on the cobblestones.

I froze, horrified, unable to process the brutality of what I’d just witnessed.

When I finally regained my senses, I turned to a nearby bystander, my voice shaky. “What just happened? Why was he killed like that?”

The man looked at me, sorrow clouding his eyes. “You must not be from around here, young man,” he sighed. “In Valoria, criticizing the king is a crime punishable by death. That poor soul just paid the price.”

Another chill ran through me. A death sentence for speaking out? What kind of despotic kingdom had I stumbled into?

“You’re saying the king allows this kind of execution?” I stammered, stunned.

The man nodded grimly. “Yes. King Gaspar is a cruel tyrant. He’s turned Valoria into a living hell for its people.”

He glanced around nervously, lowering his voice. “You’d best be careful, young man. Even speaking ill of the king in private could cost you your life. The walls here have ears...”

Swallowing hard, I nodded, my mind racing. Eleazar’s warning hadn’t been exaggerated. This city was suffocating under the iron grip of a despot, and defiance was met with merciless punishment.

Looking around again, I noticed the fear etched into the faces of the townsfolk. They avoided eye contact, their expressions weary and resigned.

For the first time, I felt deeply uneasy, as if the city’s walls themselves were closing in on me. Was this really a safe place to stay?

Just as I considered leaving, my eyes landed on a nearby sign that read “Royal Inn.”

A flicker of hope stirred within me. Perhaps I could find some peace there—a place to rest and gather my thoughts.

Taking a deep breath, I guided my horse toward the inn, determined to remain inconspicuous. For now, keeping a low profile was my best option.

After handing my horse over to a stable hand, I stepped into the inn. Warmth and the smell of hearty stew enveloped me, easing some of my tension.

At the counter, a cheerful older man greeted me. “Evening, young man! What can I do for you?”

“Good evening,” I replied politely. “I’d like a room for the night, please.”

“Of course!” he said enthusiastically, rummaging behind the counter. “Ah, here we go!”

He handed me a heavy metal key. “Room 7, upstairs.”

“Thank you,” I said, passing him some gold coins.

After locking myself in my room, I slumped against the door, a wave of exhaustion washing over me. This city was more dangerous than I’d anticipated.

As I lay down, my thoughts raced. Tomorrow, I’d have to navigate Valoria carefully. The king’s shadow loomed large over this place, and I needed to avoid its wrath at all costs.

Whatever lay ahead, one thing was certain—my stay here would be anything but peaceful.