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Join the ServerThe pace of entering the city was incredibly slow. Perhaps to prevent refugees from entering, the guards’ inspections were exceptionally strict.
It took us a long time to reach the guards. When we finally stood before them, a guard looked at Vilya with surprise, quickly saluted, and respectfully said, “Greetings, Lady Vilya!”
“Hmm.”
Vilya returned the greeting with a solemn demeanor. The soldiers quickly cleared the path, ushering Vilya inside without even questioning our identities or checking Lia.
Initially, I had worried about Lia’s identity being exposed, but it seemed that with Vilya by our side, no one dared to investigate her.
‘Vilya certainly proved useful in that regard.’
We stepped into the city. Inside the colossal stone walls, the streets were paved with ancient, bluish flagstones, some worn smooth by time, their surfaces now flush with the earth in the cracks.
The buildings along the immediate sides of the street were noticeably newer than those further back. This was, I realized, likely the place where the city gate had last been breached, the very spot where Vilya had slain that Troll with a single sword stroke.
Perhaps the very stones beneath our feet still bore traces of that Troll’s blood.
The city was far more antiquated than I had imagined. I had expected this so-called “Pearl of the Frontier” to be bustling and prosperous, but its architecture was remarkably ordinary.
The stone itself was old and classical, a deep, somber blue. This uninviting color wasn’t confined to the city’s periphery; the entire city seemed to exude a rather unwelcoming aura.
The tallest structure appeared to be a church bell tower, constructed of the same blue-grey stone, yet its enormous bell gleamed like pure gold.
Beyond that, however, there were no beautiful buildings. People on the streets, cloaked in navy blue or black robes, hurried along with their hoods drawn, none willing to linger.
Only patrolling guards seemed to break the monotony. I felt that even the residents of our small town would seem overly extravagant if they came here.
Along the streets, men in deep red robes stood on wooden crates, loudly proclaiming recent events. Their words, delivered with a rhythmic cadence, almost sounded like poetry.
I listened out of curiosity, but soon realized something was amiss. When the speaker mentioned the local refugees, he branded them as heretics, deserving of the punishment of hunger.
He declared that only after suffering and realizing the guidance of the True God, cleansing themselves and converting, should they receive food and sustenance. Until then, no food should be given to these heretics.
Suddenly, a unsettling feeling washed over me. These weren’t just street preachers; they seemed to be deeply affiliated with a religious order.
Rather than merely relaying news, they were proselytizing—and in a manner so extreme that, back where I came from, it would be deemed a cult and promptly shut down by the police.
I glanced at the people around us. Their attire was almost uniformly similar to the deep red robes of the speakers. Even ordinary citizens seemed compelled to wear robes, often faded from countless washes, just to step outside.
Everyone moved with a hurried, solemn expression, rarely exchanging words on the street.
Most of the shops around us were not hotels or restaurants. Near a train station, one would expect to find numerous eateries and small inns. Here, a typical merchant might try to open a tavern by the city gates, and even our small town boasted one. Yet, this entire city had only a few.
Upon entering, though the officer hadn’t explicitly instructed us, I noticed that the list of regulations he held included prohibitions against going out at night and against excessive drinking.
The first point, concerning security issues with refugees, was understandable. However, the ban on excessive drinking struck me as peculiar.
Initially, I thought it might be due to grain shortages, prohibiting its use for brewing alcohol. But now, I suspected it was a religious matter. This unknown religion, I realized, was the true ruler of this city.
Moreover, this religion didn’t just control the city; it controlled the very minds of its people. Under its tenets, everyone lived a life akin to ascetic monks.
“Vilya, do you know about this religion?”
“No.”
Well, that was a predictable answer.
Vilya didn’t stop there, however. She continued, “But it’s the state religion. Queen Sisi herself established it.”
“Ah…”
I nodded, then said, “We shouldn’t run into any trouble, right?”
“Trouble?”
“…My apologies.”
I understood. With Vilya, the Sword Maiden, by my side, there was no such thing as ‘trouble.’
We continued deeper into the city. Vilya was like a celebrity; wherever she walked, people would salute and respectfully call her name. Vilya would return their greetings with equal formality.
Ordinary citizens would step back, making way with expressions of awe. When she passed, even the red-robed religious figures would pause their sermons and loudly declare, “Fellow citizens, turn now and behold our human hero! It is Vilya, the hero who vanquished the Demon King! Let us now bow to her with our utmost reverence!”
Amidst the collective bows and applause, I felt a strange sense of being overwhelmed.
I felt a bit like a fox borrowing a tiger’s prestige. Fortunately, no one noticed my true identity. Lia, though a little frightened, also watched the thronging crowds with a hint of joy, shyly sitting up straighter in my arms.
Looking at Lia’s small head against my chest and Vilya’s upright posture beside me, a peculiar thought suddenly crossed my mind: ‘Did we look like a family of three? Except Vilya and I had switched roles…’
I glanced at Vilya, whose face remained expressionless. It seemed she didn’t feel that way at all.
We walked past the main street and turned into a rather dim alley. In the middle of this small street hung a wooden sign. Vilya led us inside. It was a small courtyard.
We dismounted, and two people came to take our horses towards the tiny stable. I noticed the horses in the stable were rather small and covered in thick fur.
They were typical horses for a cold region.
Vilya strode into the opposite doorway. Lia and I followed. Lia curiously surveyed the square empty space, in the center of which was a well. Two wooden buckets lay discarded nearby, their ropes looking as if they could snap at any moment.
We entered the unassuming two-story building. The moment I stepped inside, I almost thought I’d gone blind—it was so incredibly dark!
Footsteps echoed, and moments later, the faint flicker of a candle lit up the space. Vilya stood by a counter, behind which was an aged face, so wrinkled I could barely make out his features.
His hand fumbled beneath the counter, producing a key. “Upstairs, middle room.”
“Oh, no, please, two rooms for us.”
I quickly interjected. While it was disappointing not to share a room with Vilya, I absolutely couldn’t let Lia and Vilya be in the same room again. Otherwise, there would be no way to conceal Lia tonight, and if she were seen, it would likely lead to a bloodbath. For my own safety, separating was the more sensible choice.
The old man looked at us disapprovingly. “A family of three needs two rooms?”
“No.”
Vilya’s denial was both decisive and hurtful. She looked at the old man and said, “He has nothing to do with me. Please give them one room.”
“Sigh…”
Despite having two potential bookings, the old man glared at me as if I had somehow taken advantage of him. He produced another key and said, “To her right.”
“Thank you.”
Vilya handed me the other key, then glanced at Lia. I immediately gripped Lia’s hand and shook my head. Vilya looked a little disappointed, but this was one point I absolutely couldn’t concede. I couldn’t let Lia and Vilya be in the same room, or something truly terrible would happen!
Upstairs, the room was a standard two-bed setup. Though the ground floor looked rundown, the room itself was quite ordinary. I tested the bed; in the absence of a modern mattress, it was just a wooden plank bed.
Lia, however, was happily exploring her surroundings. A child’s curiosity made her particularly delighted by this unfamiliar environment.
“Daddy, are we sleeping here tonight?”
I patted Lia’s head and smiled, saying, “Lia, you stay here this afternoon and don’t wander off. Daddy has to go to work.”
Lia pouted unhappily. “No, Lia wants to go with Daddy! Lia will be very good and won’t cause trouble. Lia will listen, so can Daddy take Lia along?”
“Hmm…”
Seeing Lia look at me with such a pathetic, puppy-dog expression, I found it incredibly hard to refuse her. I considered that leaving Lia alone in the room might also be unsafe, and going to the market in the afternoon wasn’t particularly dangerous.
“Alright, I’ll take you, but Lia, you must be very obedient, okay?”
“Yes! Lia will listen to Daddy very, very much!”
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