Uriel and Ralzire had quickly made their way into the city. The last remnants of the human camps gradually disappeared, until they began encountering more and more people with horns and tails.
"Hey, Ralzire, why does it feel like the city is divided among different groups?"
Ralzire took a mont to think of an answer. After all, he understood that Uriel had missed much of what happened after reaching the end of the first floor.
"Things really haven’t been going too well around here. You see, the different species don’t seem to get along very well, especially yours and mine. There’ve been so issues with a bunch of annoying bastards."
Uriel wanted to dig deeper into that specific topic.
"What happened? So kind of fight?"
"I wish!" Ralzire would have preferred that situation a thousand tis over what they currently had.
"What’s going on is that so of the bastards who ca with us have the bad habit of stealing other people’s stuff, so there’ve been problems with your people—especially since they ca with way more equipnt than usual. So there’ve been fights and killings between the two sides." Ralzire sighed. "But in the end, it’s been like that with all the groups, more or less. The result is that now everyone’s split under different leaders."
Uriel nodded. It was a sha. This was the mont when everyone should have been pushing through the first floor together, yet here they were, divided against each other.
Ralzire and Uriel kept walking until, in the distance, they spotted a familiar face.
Vykir was training with Malach.
Malach’s greatsword moved swiftly—much faster than Uriel rembered. Now he seed quicker, stronger, his movents more precise, while Vykir dodged with agility despite the apparent increase in his companion’s speed.
Uriel raised his hand, greeting them from afar.
Both stopped training and slowly approached him.
To Uriel, it felt like an eternity had passed since he last saw the group.
"HEEEEEEY UUUURIIIIII!"
Malach approached with a grin. Much of the initial aggression he used to show toward Uriel had faded.
He raised his fist and held it out.
"Hey, thanks for protecting Ininise. Damn, we even thought you were dead."
Uriel bumped his fist. He didn’t hate him; even if he was annoying, deep down he didn’t think he was a bad guy.
Vykir was the next to step forward.
"I’m glad to see you’re alright."
Uriel nodded. He felt like he didn’t need many words with Vykir—if anything, it was better that way.
Malach placed a hand on Uriel’s shoulder.
"You probably want to see Ininise, right? Listen, try not to piss her off too much if you don’t want to end up in a bad state right after recovering. She’s not like the one you just t."
Uriel shook his head. He understood what he ant.
"You an the other Ininise, right? It’s fine, don’t worry. She told a bit about it. Still, I want to see her—I need to."
Malach rolled his eyes.
"What’s with the ’I need to see her’? You almost sound like you’re talking about your girlfriend or sothing... Hey... you didn’t do anything while you were alone with her, right?"
That last line carried a hint of hidden anger. His arm even drifted dangerously close to the hilt of his greatsword.
"Hahaha, is that seriously bothering you, man? She was practically in his arms for half the trip. In just a few hours, he had more contact with Ininise than you’ve had your entire life, hahaha."
Ralzire, on the other hand, looked like he was about to burst out laughing.
"Shut up, you ugly adopted runt."
"What did you say, you little shit?"
Both stopped paying attention to their surroundings and got caught up in a verbal fight.
"Co with , Uriel. I’ll take you to Kaelira and Miss Ininise. It should be about ti."
Vykir moved ahead, leaving the other two arguing behind.
Uriel followed closely, neither of them speaking. An awkward silence settled in—so much so that Uriel felt the need to say sothing, but after a mont, he changed his mind. The sound of bells rang out, and from one of the houses along the street, a door opened.
A group of people with horns and tails stepped outside, all in silence, not uttering a single word.
As they passed by Uriel, so looked at him with a hint of anger in their eyes; others with curiosity.
This ti, Vykir spoke first.
"They’re initiates."
Uriel looked at him, puzzled.
"Initiates?"
"Yes. People who have just beco followers of the Eleventh."
Uriel nodded.
"So... it’s like so kind of religious ritual?"
Vykir confird with a simple motion.
"That’s right. When you beco a follower of one of the eleven gods, on the first day you must remain silent, no matter what... Looks like they’re all gone. Go on, go inside."
"You’re not coming?" Uriel found it strange that neither Ralzire nor Malach—and now Vykir as well—would follow him to speak with Ininise.
"No... she’d get angry if we interrupted."
After that, he said nothing more and remained standing beside the door.
Uriel understood that, even if he couldn’t enter, he would stay nearby just in case.
As he approached, Uriel could feel the scent of incense growing stronger. Inside the room, there were no chairs; instead, everything was adorned with gold and belongings.
Uriel even thought he spotted objects from his own world—phones, among the piles of treasure. It seed true that these people had a habit of taking others’ possessions. They weren’t baseless rumors, as Uriel had hoped.
"We only take from people what they can’t protect. Maybe that way they’ll learn to value it more."
A voice Uriel knew well ca from behind a set of curtains dividing the room. There, he could see two silhouettes. From the voice, he was sure it was Ininise, and the other person had to be Kaelira.
At last, a sense of happiness washed over him. He didn’t know why, but that voice felt like sothing he had longed for deeply—as if this encounter were a reunion he had been waiting for his entire life.
He didn’t understand it. For him, it had only been an instant—he had fallen asleep and then awakened, nothing unusual. And yet, his heart couldn’t help but race.
This eting, sohow, felt like the fulfillnt of a deep, unspoken desire.
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