The sun, now fully visible, cast its rays of light over the kingdom of Apocalis, ushering in a new day. Raignald watched as Abdullah walked away, following his own path back to his homeland, and felt a touch of sadness knowing he wouldn't see him again for a while, a melancholy smile crossing his face. He had been more like an older brother than just a butler.
"Good morning, Master Raignald!" exclaimed a guard standing at the mansion gates. "Do you require an escort for your journey?"
An armor of silvery metal covered his body and legs with artistic craftsmanship, adorned with golden lines and elegant curves. The Boletara family crest shone at the center of his chestplate, symbolizing his loyalty: a bird with outstretched wings and a star above its head. His helmet covered his eyes and the upper part of his head, leaving his mouth free for comfort. In his right hand, a red halberd stood out.
"Thank you very much, but that won't be necessary." Raignald no longer needed such luxuries. Besides, he was no longer part of the family. "From now on, I'll learn to defend myself."
"Understood, sir. But... did your father give you permission?"
Raignald sighed, as a family rule forbade him from going out alone without permission—at least until he turned eighteen, which had already happened. Even so, he felt a twinge of disappointment knowing such rules had kept him from so much.
"I'm old enough now. I turned eighteen yesterday," he clarified with a smile.
"Oh, my apologies then." The guard bowed in a gesture of apology. "I forgot yesterday was your birthday. Congratulations! I won't hold you up—go ahead." He extended his arm, gesturing with an open hand for him to proceed.
Raignald gave a slight nod and began walking toward the streets.
He was already familiar with the area, where the streets were impeccably clean and hundreds of colorful flowers served as decoration. People walked about dressed elegantly, with tailored suits, long dresses, and gleaming jewelry. Eye-catching carriages, painted in vivid colors, were drawn by majestic noble horses, trotting slowly without disturbing the townsfolk.
He continued walking toward the wall that separated the upper district from the middle. He already knew the way, though it was a bit far from his home, so a horse would have been useful. Still, he decided to go on foot to stretch his legs.
As he walked, a carriage passed nearby, escorted by a group of knights of noble bearing. They all wore light purple armor, matching the ornaments of the horses.
"Raignald?" A young, soft female voice called from inside the carriage. "Is that you?"
"Nastasia?" He stopped by the carriage, eyes wide, gaze fixed on the door. He recognized the voice like a gentle breeze from the past.
A guard approached, the sound of metal armor clinking with each step, and carefully opened the door. From inside, she emerged, descending slowly, resting her hand gently on the guard's, who held it carefully.
She truly had an unmatched beauty, and Raignald hadn't seen her in quite some time. He stood still, glancing up and down, admiring the striking lilac color that adorned her—even her long skirted dress.
"It's been so long! I didn't expect to run into you so early," Nastasia smiled, resting her hands on her hips. "What's with all that luggage? Oh, and that sword?" she paused as she noticed it, beginning to piece together what had happened.
"I didn't expect this either, but honestly, I'm glad to see you," Raignald smiled, his heart lightening at the sight of his childhood friend. "All this has an explanation, but it's a bit long. In short... I've chosen my path as a young man, and I'm going to become a knight. I'm headed to the Central Hunters' Zone."
"Oh wow..." Nastasia brushed her chin with two fingers. "I was actually on my way to your house to congratulate you, but I see that won't be necessary. Come on, hop in the carriage—I'll take you to the gates of the wall," she offered, taking his hand.
"That's not necessary!" he exclaimed with a smile, his cheeks slightly flushed as he tried to resist her grip.
"Oh, come on! We haven't seen each other in months and you're already this shy? Besides, I want you to tell me everything," she crossed her arms and glanced toward the carriage, "this little trip will at least save me from boredom. And on top of that, I'm worrying about you."
Raignald sighed, raised his shoulders, and slightly spread his arms, accepting that it was a good option.
"Alright then, hop in—we'll get there faster," Nastasia insisted as she climbed in first.
"Alright, alright..." he followed her with a smile on his lips.
The interior had seats upholstered in purple and curtains covering the windows. She sat on one side, looking at Raignald as she waited. He chose the seat across from her, placing his backpack and sword between his legs. With the weapon upright, he rested his hands on the pommel.
"To the gates of the wall!" she ordered the escort outside, and instantly the carriage began to move.
The wheels rolled firmly over the path, so smooth that the friction was barely noticeable. The two of them sat in silence for a few seconds, waiting for someone to break it. Raignald looked at his equipment, toying with the sword, while Nastasia watched the gentle sunlight filter through the curtains.
"So," she began, a faint smile on her lips, "how did you get your parents to let you go? As far as I know, they hate the idea of you wielding a sword."
"That's the complicated part..." Raignald said, without lifting his gaze from the floor.
"Complicated? Oh," she widened her eyes slightly, giving his words more attention, "did you leave them?"
"More or less. They expelled me," he raised his gaze, his eyes downcast but with a faint smile. "Or at least that's what my mother decided. They'll never support me."
Nastasia's lips curved into a somber expression.
"That must hurt. I really thought you'd reach some sort of agreement eventually."
"Don't worry," Raignald forced a smile, though inside, he felt a warm comfort in having someone to share his burdens with. "This is what I've decided, and if they won't accept me, one day I'll show them just how wrong they were."
"So, you're on your own. And what about Abdullah? You always told me how good he was, how he was the only one who supported you."
Raignald slowly unsheathed the sword, stopping when just half of the blade showed, revealing the Arabic inscription.
"This is a gift from him." The metal reflected the sunlight.
"No doubt," Nastasia smiled, feeling the warmth of friendship, "he has a heart of gold. You were right to hold on to him." She examined the sword's craftsmanship closely. "It's beautiful, and that engraving is very artistic. What does it mean?"
"Hope of the Dawn. Written in his language, though I can't remember what it was called..." his gaze settled on her. "It's certainly a beautiful script. I'll wield it with honor." He sheathed the sword.
Nastasia smiled, recalling moments when she saw the two of them together like brothers. Abdullah was always behind him, watching over and worrying for him. At parties, dances...
"Now, you'll finally be able to do what you always wanted. Oh, by the way," her purple eyes locked onto Raignald's, "your parents must have mentioned the union of our families."
His eyes widened as he remembered the arranged marriage they had planned.
"Ah, about that... I didn't want to force something neither of us understood... it's not about you—"
"It's okay," she interrupted with a calm smile, "I wouldn't want to marry for money either, much less without love."
"Oh, wow..." he relaxed his arms, letting out a breath. "But don't get me wrong..." he straightened his back, regaining his composure, "you really are beautiful—it's just that I never felt that connection between us..." He fell silent, realizing what he'd just said.
Nastasia only looked at him with a gentle smile and half-closed eyes, shining with a playful glint. Then she let out a small laugh.
"Thank you, really. It makes me happy to hear that from you. And I understand—we never really tried to go down that path. But I think that's the fault of our families." She turned her gaze to the curtains and, with a slight motion, lifted the fabric to peek outside. "Their thirst for grandeur has kept us from truly getting to know each other."
Raignald relaxed once more, looking down at the backpack between his legs.
"It was always forced dances, or dinners where they deliberately seated us together," Raignald said, "but at least we've built a true friendship." He raised his gaze and fixed it on her. "Remember? When we lay together in the garden, sharing our dreams for the future."
"Yes," she laughed softly, covering her mouth with her fingers, "it was during that celebration at my parents' mansion. We snuck away together because the party bored us so much. I think that was the only moment we were truly alone."
"Only to be caught and scolded afterward..." he paused for a moment, breaking the silence with a warm laugh. "But it was worth it."
"You're right. Even though our parents had their own ideas, we ended up building a bond in our own way. And now, at last, you're turning eighteen and can follow your own path. I've already decided mine." Nastasia crossed her arms, looking at Raignald with a calm smile.
"Ah, that's true—you turn a few months before me. What did you decide?" asked Raignald, settling his back against the seat.
"I've decided to continue with what I've been studying. I'll dedicate myself to the study of mana." Her tone was firm, but her eyes showed restrained excitement.
"Wow... that's a pretty broad field, isn't it? It's the study of the energy source that encompasses everything," Raignald said, furrowing his brow thoughtfully.
"That's right. It's always fascinated me. With mana, you can learn about so many things." Nastasia grew animated, her hands moving in rhythm with her words. "There are theories that say it's like a living being. Some believe it's a single entity, spread throughout the universe. Others think it's a collection of microorganisms scattered in the same way."
"I've read about that too. For example, the theory that it's a single being... referring to some kind of consciousness. But it's strange to understand, isn't it? Mana is invisible, like air, and besides..."
The conversation flowed on for quite some time. Nastasia spoke with passion, revealing everything she knew, while Raignald, a bit more reserved, contributed details he had read. Still, the tone remained light and cheerful.
"We're almost there, right?" Raignald finally asked, glancing out the window.
Nastasia nodded after a quick look outside.
"Yes, just a few more minutes." She paused briefly before turning to him. "By the way, before we arrive—since we got carried away with my story... what about you? Why did you really choose the path of a knight?"
"For quite a few reasons, honestly..." Raignald searched for a specific answer. "For one, I've never left this area. Not knowing what the other zones are like excites me. But," he lowered his gaze, looking at his gear and the sword, "it's always been because I wanted to be a warrior, to wield a sword and learn the art of mana. I don't even know what I'm capable of yet, not even what my mana level is."
"I see, then." She looked at Raignald with a calm smile. "I'm happy for you, and I wish you the best of luck."
"Thank you so much, Nastasia." He lifted his gaze to her with a smile. "Same to you—good luck with your studies."
The carriage came to a stop. Instead of the galloping of horses and the clinking of knights' armor, now the sound of people chatting and strolling filled the air. Someone knocked on the carriage door three times.
"We've arrived at our destination, my lady," announced a knight.
Raignald stood up, slinging the backpack over his shoulder and fastening the sword at his waist.
"Finally." He smiled at Nastasia. "Thank you for bringing me; you really made the journey easier."
"No problem, it's the least I could do for a friend," she replied with a smile.
The knight outside opened the door at Nastasia's signal, and Raignald stepped down the small carriage staircase.
"Good luck, Knight Raignald," Nastasia called out before the door closed.
The young man smiled, his heart filled with hope, knowing that someone believed in him—a friend who supported his future and path as a knight. Still, he felt a bit melancholic at the thought of parting from her for so long.
The carriage began to move again, slowly disappearing from Raignald's sight.
"Well then..." he thought, turning his gaze toward the wall. He was astonished, his eyes wide as he looked up from the bottom to the top. He was only a few meters away, but it was tall enough to keep anyone from climbing over.
That was the visible wall. Beyond that, made of mana, was the wall that stretched to the skies, preventing anyone from flying over without permission.
"Eighteen years living here, and I've never seen it this close," he mused ironically.
He then walked toward the wall, where some guards were stationed at the massive gates.
"Good day, sir..." a guard addressed him formally, sizing up the figure. Recognizing him, the guard's eyes widened slightly. "Oh. Sir Raignald of Boletara." He bowed his torso and head forward.
Raignald raised a hand and gave a small nod in return.
"I wasn't expecting to see you near the gates. What brings you here?" the guard asked, frowning.
"In short, I've become independent, and now I'm following my own path. I'm heading toward the lower district," Raignald explained with a faint smile.
"I see, sir. I won't question you further. Happy eighteenth, and I wish you a good journey."
The guard signaled to his companion on the other side, and together they moved toward the winches. Slowly, they opened the gates, revealing a passage that ran through the inside of the wall.
Raignald stepped inside, and the gates closed behind him. The passage had no sunlight, but was lit by mana torches hanging along the walls. A carpet ran along the center of the floor, leading all the way to the end, where another set of massive doors slowly began to open.
"It's rare to see people pass through this place," his mind wandered as he walked. "No one from the upper classes ever leaves their district. And surely, the few who walk this corridor are people from the middle district heading to the upper one."
Finally, he passed through the great doors, and his eyes widened completely, astonished by the new sights before him.
In the skies, people flew on pegasus, brooms, carpets, and other winged species, such as fairies and more.
On the ground, the hustle and bustle was noticeable from afar; people of different species strolled harmoniously through the streets. The smell of fresh bread and food filled Raignald's nose.
He simply admired the scene, standing still as if a new life were opening before his eyes, almost moved to tears.
"Welcome to the middle district, Sir Raignald," a guard's firm voice behind him emphasized the impact of the place.
The young man turned and bowed in thanks.
"What now? Where do I go?" still stunned, his mind wandered, trying to come to terms with it.
The area was much larger than he was used to, and far more lively. Without thinking too much, he quickened his pace, like a happy child exploring the streets. The knight behind him watched with a smile as he entered the streets.
The warm aroma of freshly baked bread and pastries floated among the crowd, along with the calls of merchants. People browsed and walked between the various stalls: fruits, vegetables, cheeses, and meat. And it wasn't just food; the sound of clashing metal could be heard from distant blacksmiths. The song of minstrels filled the air, mixing with the chatter of the crowd.
"And this is just part of the middle district?" he wondered as he walked, his curious gaze admiring every corner. "It feels so much livelier than the upper district!"
His stomach growled at the smell coming from a nearby bakery. Without a second thought, he walked in.
"Excuse me," a man said as he crossed paths with Raignald at the door.
"No problem," Raignald tried to reply, but the man was already lost in the crowd.
Inside the bakery, a few people were there; one was being served by the baker, while two others waited patiently in line. Raignald took his place at the end of the queue, respecting the order without hurry.
His eyes scanned the shop and noticed a woman near the oven, busy preparing freshly baked orders, her face slightly sweaty from the heat.
After the first customer, the remaining customers were attended to immediately. Their orders were simple loaves of bread, which were already prepared.
"Well, you look at this. A new face!" boomed the baker from the counter.
His arms were crossed, muscular, and his skin glistened slightly from the accumulated heat. His neatly trimmed black beard connected with his hair, though it was hidden beneath a white cap. His skin was white but a little darker, and his eyes were black.
"You've caught the smell of our art, huh?" he looked at Raignald enthusiastically, eager to treat him well. "Come on, come back to our world and tell me what you're ordering!" he laughed.
"Oh, my apologies," Raignald finally spoke, pulling himself out of his thoughts. "What should I order? Well..." He placed two fingers on his chin, lost in thought.
"One moment, I already have food in my backpack, thanks to Abdullah," he thought to himself. "But, oh well, no harm in getting something extra."
"You look very sleepy, young man." The baker slightly tilted his torso, looking directly at the young man. "I recommend one of our specialties, the blue grape pie. Thanks to mana, the grapes used are enhanced, offering benefits like energy. Better than coffee!"
"Blue grape pie? Well, I'll take one of those then, please." Raignald asked with curiosity. Though he had tried grape pie before, he had never heard of a mana-enhanced version.
"Coming right up! You'll be licking your fingers, my wife knows how to add that perfect touch of flavor. Right, Mirella?" he exclaimed, looking toward the woman near the oven.
"That's me!" she called out cheerfully from her spot. "And I just finished the pie, what a coincidence."
Carefully, she brought the pie over to the counter so Raignald could see it. His stomach growled louder, the scent was sweet and warm, but there was something special about it; even the appearance was striking: the blue of the grapes was brilliant, like diamonds.
The baker carefully wrapped the pie and sealed the package with the name of his bakery, "Warm Morning."
"Our specialty, for a new customer. The price would be ten silver coins, but I'll knock it down to five, so you come back again!" he laughed heartily.
"Wow, thank you so much, but that's not necessary," Raignald smiled, knowing he had a card with quite a bit of money. "I'll pay you the ten silver."
"Now, that's something new! A new customer with a heart of gold."
Raignald took the card from his pocket and tried to figure out how to use it, turning it from side to side. The baker, impressed, lightly tapped the counter with his palms.
"Is that what I think it is? The high rank card! You're one of the rich ones!" he exclaimed, gazing at the card with excitement.
The woman peeked curiously from behind the oven, approaching while drying her hands on her apron.
"Ah, yes," the young man smiled, a bit uncomfortable knowing he was drawing attention. "The problem is, I don't know how—" he was interrupted as a kind of transparent screen appeared from the card, displaying numbers.
On the screen, the number fifty was next to the special currency icon of the kingdom, the apocalo. Beside it, three zeros accompanied the icons of the gold, silver, and bronze currencies. This meant that Raignald had, "Fifty apocalos?" he thought, his eyes wide in astonishment.
In the kingdom of Apocalis, transactions were made with three types of currency: gold, silver, and bronze. One hundred bronze equaled one silver, and one hundred silver equaled one gold. However, there was a special currency: the apocalo, a unit of value so exclusive that it was only used by the highest ranks. Each apocalo was worth a thousand gold coins.
Silver was the most common and widely used currency. Simply put, Raignald had the equivalent of five million silver coins.
"How do I take the money out?" Raignald thought, shaking the card as a quick solution. Then he remembered how his father did it: the coins appeared in the palm of his hand with just a gesture.
Raignald tried to imitate him, thinking about the amount he needed, ten silver coins. It worked: in the palm of his hand, with a metallic clink, the coins appeared. He smiled, satisfied.
He checked his card again: now he had forty-nine apocalos, nine hundred ninety-nine gold coins, ninety silver coins, and zero bronze coins. He still had plenty left to use.
"Here you have, sir." He placed the coins on the counter.
"It's nice to have a high-class customer; it's been a while since I've seen one." The baker put his palm behind his head, rubbing his neck while letting out a laugh. "You can take the pie and gobble it up!"
"Thank you for shopping at 'Warm Morning Bakery!'" he exclaimed, in tune with his wife.
Raignald, smiling, placed his hand on his chest, lowering his head slightly as a gesture of thanks.
As he stepped out the door, a group of customers entered, respecting the distance from each other.
With the warm pie in his hand, its aroma filling the air, the only thing the young man could think about was devouring it as soon as possible. Outside the bakery, there were seats and tables, a few already occupied by people having breakfast and chatting.
Raignald placed the pie on an empty table, sat down, and eagerly rested his backpack on another chair along with his sword. The treat was already sliced, so he picked up a piece with his hands and brought it to his mouth.
He burned his mouth a little, but the flavor exploded in his mouth. The sweet grape melted on his tongue, and the pie's crumb was soft and light. But it had a different twist, an acidic note that sent a sparkling sensation through him, pulling out an amused expression. His eyes sparkled, and his cheeks flushed slightly.
He gobbled up another piece, then another, until he finished it in no time. Satisfied, he settled back in the chair, stretching his arms. The effect didn't take long to show, his energy surged considerably, and he felt like running across the kingdom.
After thinking for a moment, he stood up and prepared for the journey ahead. Upon seeing how alive the streets were once again, he felt even more encouraged. He stepped into the flow and continued on his way.
From a distance, he could see the next wall, and he sighed upon noticing the great distance, but he didn't let laziness take over when he remembered his goal. With the energy he had gained, the journey didn't seem so long, as he passed through groups of people, carriages, merchants, and crossed plazas, houses, open streets, and more. He tried to ignore almost everything, not letting himself be distracted by the new sights, focusing on his goal.
Finally, he arrived at the gates of the mid-range wall. They were bigger, with open gates and people coming and going. He noticed a large sign placed above the arch of the wall: "West Wall," it read. He approached some guards to ask:
"Good morning." He bowed slightly. "I'm trying to get to a place called 'Hunter's Central Zone,' how do I get there?"
"Good morning. We are in the west zone, so you'll need to take the circular wall train to reach the north zone."
"Circular wall train?" The young man's eyes showed curiosity.
"That's right." The knight smiled, finding his reaction amusing. "It's a special train that runs through the inside of this wall, passing through four points: west, east, north, and south. As you know, this wall is quite large, so this mana-reinforced machine was created to make the journey easier."
Hearing such a novelty filled Raignald with excitement. Without wasting time, he thanked the guard and joined the crowd. There were many people, but everything was in order, respecting the space. Walking slowly, he descended a staircase on the right side of the wall's portal.
Upon reaching the bottom of the last staircase, he found a crowded area where people were waiting for the circular train. Some were sitting on benches, while others chatted standing or walked around.
"The train is almost here!" announced a voice that echoed throughout the place. "Prepare to board."
People began lining up in large rows, and Raignald joined one. The train finally arrived, stopping at the gap. The young man admired its structure—it was quite long, with windows showing the interior: people sitting or standing, but all in order with enough space. It had a golden and white color, creating an attractive appearance.
The doors opened, and people began to disembark. Raignald was impressed with the orderliness: there was a perfect separation between the entrance and exit lines. Before entering, one had to wait to ensure no one else was getting off.
The line began to move, entering slowly. A guard was counting the number of people and sharing it with the others guarding the other doors, keeping track of the total number of people entering, to know if the limit had been reached. The young man managed to enter just in time.
"This train has exceeded the limit, those who couldn't enter will wait for the next one," they announced loudly.
The machine started moving, slowly at first, but gradually increasing speed. In an instant, its speed shot up drastically, though it wasn't felt inside: no one fell or slipped from their seats, thanks to the mana the train used, which created a stable interior.
The interior was white and gold, with seats in different places. Raignald tried to find a seat, but everything was occupied, so he stayed standing, his mind wandering with excitement.
Ten minutes later, the train reached the north stop. Along with the crowd, he exited in an orderly fashion, and at one point, he quickened his pace, climbing the stairs on his right upon noticing the sign "Upstairs – Lower Zone." At first, he was confused, but then he thought to himself that he was underground, so the wall also connected below. That's why there were two sets of stairs: one leading to the middle zone and the other to the lower.
Finally, he reached his destination. It was already clear that it was larger than the middle zone, with the streets even more lively. He observed in detail people with armor, bows, staffs, swords, shields, and more. All equipped like warriors. "Are those the hunters?" Raignald murmured to himself.
There were different groups, but without thinking twice, he approached the first one he saw:
A young man in silver armor, carrying a sword at his waist and a shield on his back, with black hair and eyes to match.
A girl, possibly a mage, wore white and black fabric clothes, with leather protection. She was holding a gray staff on the ground. Her hair was yellow, and her eyes were light brown.
Another large figure, his body covered in black armor, was a humanoid beast with the appearance of a white tiger. A large axe rested on his back.
"Good afternoon, how do I get to the Central Hunter Zone?" he asked the group with a smile.
The young man with black hair was the first to speak:
"Good afternoon, bro!" he cheerfully raised his hand, giving a warm welcome. "You're a new hunter, aren't you? We're just heading there to catch a couple of targets."
"Ah, perfect then," Raignald said, glad to receive such friendly help. "And yes, I'm new. I'm interested in becoming a forest hunter."
"Then follow us, bro. It's a bit far, but it's easy to get to."
Raignald and the group began to walk. The girl glanced at Raignald curiously.
"Don't you have armor?" she finally asked. "If you want to move with agility, at least wear something light. Like leather armor, for example."
"Leave it, Samira. He's new, I guess he doesn't know what type he likes yet," interrupted the boy.
"From the sword he's carrying," the beastly man's deep voice resonated. He was looking at Raignald's weapon. "I'd say he's a close-range attacker, like you, Ekin."
"Could be, he's the only one who knows."
"If it's about wielding a sword, that's what I want," Raignald responded with pride. "I didn't think about the armor, but I'll definitely get one. Thanks for mentioning it."
"Well, now you have something to do." Ekin let out a brief laugh. "Get whatever you want, but I recommend something made of silver." He lightly hit his chestplate with his fist, making the metal ring.
Raignald nodded, and with the group, they continued on their way. They didn't take long to arrive: little by little, it became evident that there were plenty of hunters walking the streets, some alone and others in groups.
"Here we are: The Central Hunter Zone, or rather, the central guild," Ekin announced to the group, addressing Raignald.
Raignald looked up, astonished: from the outside, it looked like a huge tavern. Hunters were constantly coming and going, chattering among themselves.
"What are you waiting for? Come with us so we can explain you the basics," Ekin shouted from the door, raising his hand.
Raignald sighed and followed the group inside.
The real journey had just begun.