NOVEL SIMPLE Chapter 14: The golden capital, Empiriyan
Five days later, after trekking through the dense forest, Blade and Chrone finally reached a clearing. Before Blade's divine sense, a grand city emerged, its towering walls standing tall as guards patrolled atop them. A long line of caravans and people stretched out before a giant gate, waiting to enter.
Blade exhaled deeply, a white puff of breath visible in the crisp air. Winter was approaching, and snow gently fell, accumulating on her head.
"Doesn't that snow hat bother you at all?" Chrone asked, noticing the growing pile of snow atop Blade's head. "It's almost unnatural how unbothered you are by most things."
Blade glanced at the sword floating beside her, then casually raised her left hand to brush away the snow that had gathered.
As they moved to join the long line of people, Chrone quietly slipped into the sheath on Blade's hip. While waiting, Blade overheard a conversation between a young man and a woman standing in front of her.
"Did you hear? The Spring Festival is going to have an even grander ceremonial sword festival this year!" A blonde-haired girl dressed in a priest's robe said excitedly.
"Really? I wonder if I can compete," a red-haired man mused aloud.
"You can certainly try, but there will be many sword enthusiasts joining too. Your chances of winning might be slim," the girl replied.
"Hey, at least have some faith in me," the young man protested.
"Sorry, Kai, but my faith is wholly in the Goddess of Light."
"Spring Festival?" Blade muttered to herself.
The blonde girl turned to Blade, a curious look in her eyes. "You don't know about the Spring Festival?" She scanned Blade's attire— a long dark coat, a grey shirt, and long dark pants, an outfit that struck a balance between casual and serious. The priest's gaze then fell on the sheathed sword at Blade's hip.
The ornaments that were decorating the guard alone were enough to tell it was a valuable sword.
"You're not from around here, are you?" she asked, noting Blade's distinct appearance.
"No, I'm not," Blade replied.
The blonde girl smiled warmly. "Well, it's nice to meet you! I'm Sylph, an adventurer." She extended her hand, showing a silver ring on her middle finger.
Blade nodded in acknowledgment, "Blade, a swordswoman."
Sylph's eyes sparkled with interest. "A swordswoman! That's exciting. Are you planning to participate in the sword festival?"
Blade remained silent for a moment before replying with her monotone voice, "Perhaps."
Sylph eagerly launched into an explanation, detailing the festival's significance and the various events, especially the sword competition that drew enthusiasts from all over. As they continued to chat, the line slowly moved forward, bringing them closer to the gates of the grand city.
The Sword Festival traces its origins back to the kingdom's founding. The first ancestor of the royal family was a hero of golden blood, and it's said that when he was born, a golden light descended from above, accompanied by a heavenly choir of lyres that filled the world for a brief moment.
As he grew, his talent with the sword became undeniable. Even before reaching his prime, he had mastered the art of the blade. He fought valiantly in the wars between humans and demons, battling from Spring until Winter. Wielding his golden sword, he ultimately vanquished the Demon King who ruled this land, and in doing so, he established the Kingdom of Empiriyan—the Golden Kingdom—during the Spring.
To celebrate his victory, the capital’s residents have marked the end of Winter with a festival commemorating the Demon King's fall and the Spring Sword Festival to honor the Kingdom's rise.
"Next," the guard called out, signaling it was Blade's turn to approach the gate.
"What is your purpose for visiting?" the guard asked, his tone firm as he scanned Blade's attire.
"To join the Spring Sword Festival," Blade replied in a monotone voice.
"Let me see your status," the guard requested, focusing on the ring on Blade's finger.
Blade raised her hand, and with a command, the ring displayed her status.
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Name: Clail En Fox | Age: 21
Race: Fox-kin
Level: 3
Physique: 46
Mind: 21
Unassigned Points: 6
Titles: Sword Master
Skills: Flame-mane Lion Sword Technique: Pinnacle, Night-Crawler Panther Sword Technique: Pinnacle, Light Speed Sword Technique: Pinnacle, Sword Domain, Sword Aura
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The guard's eyes widened slightly as he noticed her race. He glanced between her head and the status display.
"Are you a fox-kin?" he inquired.
"Indeed," Blade responded, and as she spoke, black fox ears emerged from her head, blending with her dark hair.
She felt numerous malicious gazes from the people standing behind her in line. The guard, who also noticed the hostile stares, chose to ignore them.
"Adventurer Clail, I hereby welcome you to the Golden Kingdom," the guard said, bowing his head with his hand on his chest. As he straightened up, he leaned closer to Blade and whispered, "I suggest you hide those ears and tail. The capital doesn’t take kindly to non-humans."
With that, he allowed Blade to pass through the gate, then turned to the next person in line.
"Racism, huh? Humans never change," Chrone remarked, his tone unusually melancholic, a stark contrast to his usual cheery demeanor.
Blade said nothing in response, instead choosing to quietly observe the capital around her.
At first glance, everything appeared normal. Children walked alongside their parents as they purchased food for the approaching winter.
But as Blade's sense drifted toward a particular section of the city, the facade of normalcy began to crumble. In that area, decrepit and poor housing stood in stark contrast to the bustling market streets.
People in rags huddled near their dilapidated homes, their bodies gaunt from malnutrition. Winter’s approach had left them with a desperate need to stockpile food, yet none had the means to do so.
Many were already shivering from the biting cold, their faces etched with hopelessness.
A flashback of Blade's fragmented memory showed herself looking at a beggar, or rather, she was once also a beggar who was thrown out of the house by her parents for her crimson eyes that would scare anyone who would look at them.
They said it was a curse, but for Blade at the time, it was the fuel that drove her to tread the path to godhood.
Chrone sensed a subtle shift in Blade’s emotions, recognizing that something was amiss. However, he chose not to inquire further.
He had learned that whatever they encountered, Blade would handle it in her way. If she felt it necessary, she would share her thoughts with him. For now, he remained silent, trusting her judgment.