Zy hiccupped. His throat froze. Veins bulged in his neck, his corneas turning red. At the side of his neck was a silver-rimd syringe containing a green liquid.
"Just wait... I will kill you..." Zy cursed as his tone died down. His eyes shut, head dropping into the snow.
As Zy fell unconscious from the syringe, the tar approached him. He recovered his sabre on his way, returning it to the sheath.
Closing the gap to Zy's lying form, he bent and lifted him while having wrapped his arm around his own neck. Then he took him off his feet, slinging him over his shoulder.
The weight pressed down on him. But he moved towards Zy's initial direction while walking just fine.
----
In another part of the world, the bright sun hung high in the sky. Unlike Frosthaven, the atmosphere was bright with warm heat. Birds filled the sky like tiny particles.
Their movent showed how plentiful they were. The air flowed, almost as if it never moved whatsoever.
Most people donned loose robes with belts or sleeveless vests. So also had linen tunics and breeches on. Everyone wore different clothes. But, in the warmth, everyone had a soft cloth.
Steam rose from the pot of a porridge seller in the market. The sll of boiled at filled the air. The wind beat the balls of a hung set of dream catchers on a counter.
The road was a cobblestone type with blooming wildflowers, not a snowy one in Frosthaven.
Families, friends, lone walkers, and playful kids moved about the market. They boosted its liveliness. Traders were in their spaces, smiling and persuading the consurs.
And exaggerated expressions too. Like, "you won't want to taste anything else if you take a bite of this stead fruit pudding."
This was what every other area in this kingdom looked like. A lively and warm-temperate kind.
In the distance, a steady clop-clop-clop of hooves approached. The people cleared the path. A sleek, muscular horse then sprinted down the cobblestone path between the trading grounds. It drew all the attention.
On its light armoured back rode a sharp-eyed man with a resolute expression. He appeared fit and agile, suggesting both endurance and strength.
As the horse travelled down the path, the man's hooded cloak flowed with its motion. Close to the horse's neck were leather satchels and pouches. Exposed parts hinted at scrolls or sealed ssages.
A woman with a defined torso, simple braids, and bright red lips thought, 'Is it ti for another announcent already? Oh... could it be...?'
At the pudding counter stood a man with an athletic build, wearing only a singlet and pants. Putting aside the long spoon he turned into the puddings with, he asked, his voice deep and lively.
"Hey, Mister Courier. Beings are clueless about an announcent coming up that soon."
He bent, placing the lid on his pudding pot.
"What kind is it? Punishnt over an adult marrying an underage person? Soone sneaked another into Eldengrove to escape a quarantine? Or... good news?"
The courier dragged the rope, halting the horse. He shifted his glance at the man with deliberate slowness. He replied, "Heard old folks are right in the last second. Guess that rumour is correct, Mister Tunic."
The man chuckled. He straightened his back after getting done with his cooking. He clasped his waist, smiling with excitent. "Okay then, let's see. I'm making a thoughtful guess about what it's about..."
A wave of familiarity washed across everyone. Most especially, between the courier and the puddling seller.
The horse strode with a gentle motion under the rider's light pull. It halted near a brown board nailed to a cobblestone wall. The board was of moderate height and width.
A shimring golden light illuminated the courier's hand for a mont as he pressed it on the brown board. Everything was plain until his horse had sprinted to the edge of a mid-house corner, downwards.
A little boy with chubby cheeks, raven hair, and dark-spotted skin pointed at the board. He smiled with excitent. "Look over there! They're hosting another hero contest soon..."
People looked there without delay. In a nanosecond, they rushed closer to it. A person of such little height could see nothing now. The kid grumbled, fumbling with his hair.
The puddling seller chuckled as he saw his reaction. "Didn't know you could understand the Pharandelic language already. Were you taught at ho by your mum or dad?"
"No," the boy nodded his head. He moved closer, resting his hands on the counter. "My dog taught instead."
"What a rude brat," the man mumbled. He then asked, tilting his head at the board, "It isn't like immature buns under twenty could get into the Sanctuary..."
"Hmm... I know..." the boy nodded his head with a serious expression.
He turned and gazed at the distant gathering, while the man stared at him for how loose he was talking to him that way.
The boy shrugged and intoned, "Well, those adults aren't better than . Everyone has got the Starless Mage Body. Isn't that right?"
"How co you know that much?"
The boy imdiately looked at the man with sothing in his glance. The older man could only raise his eyebrows as he awaited what the boy was going to say.
"Tsk... you're really unbelievable, Mister Puddling. Age is just a number, don't you know?"
The man creased his brows. "W-what? How could you talk to an adult that way?" He raised his voice.
"What adult..?" the boy mumbled, but the man heard what he said. He turned imdiately to get his long spoon, but the boy had already fled before he had turned.
He stared at him as he ran away, holding his breath and having his mouth open in wonder. "Just imagine the way he was talking to ."
People murmured to one another as they discussed what was on the board. This type of announcent caused the sa reaction during every other pasti.
So in the market, busy with their own tasks, ignored the crowd. They had always turned a blind eye to things. Most would celebrate in silence.
Because they could finally join a group of remarkable figures in the kingdom.
These people were very hard to co across. Eldengrove was a vast area that included smaller towns. And, second, they had a mostly socially neutral attitude.
They likely see socialising as being lazy and unproductive. In this world, the Soul Land produces a hero after getting infused with the Sable Mark.
But to beco one wasn't about attending the agenda at the Magic Sanctuary. It concerned the emotional strength of an individual. And their resilience when faced by their inner demons.
Imprinted on the board were:
"Greetings to you all. This is to announce the recruitnt plan for the Magic Sanctuary. We will hold it in four days.
Please note that only bottom feeders of the chain can attend, who are not less than the age of twenty.
You should prepare your mind before participating. The Sanctuary will not be responsible for your death if you're unable to pass through the Soul Land."
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