Northern landed gently on the narrow street, Roma cradled in his arms. The mont his feet touched the ground, the atmosphere twisted. People lurked in the shadows, their gaunt faces barely visible beneath the dim flicker of dying lanterns.
Tension thickened like a suffocating fog. His sudden arrival rattled them, making them recoil deeper into the dark recesses like specters of the city's despair. So stared in uncertainty, others trembled, gripped by an unspoken fear.
No one had entered the city in months. A human descending from the sky—it was too bizarre, too unnatural for a place teetering on the brink of annihilation.
'Did I just make a scene?'
Northern scanned the haggard faces around him, perplexed by their reaction. Right now, he had no ti for confusion—Roma needed help.
"Please…" His voice carried through the still air, rolling with firm authority.
"Does anyone know of a healer? My friend needs help!"
His plea t silence.
People shrank away, windows creaked shut, and eyes peeked fearfully from the narrow gaps of wooden slats. His words ant nothing to them. Fear and hopelessness had consud their hearts long before he arrived.
Northern sighed, stepping forward. His gaze swept the decayed cityscape.
The rot had seeped deep. Without fresh imports, food had dwindled to scraps. Fishmongers stood before empty stalls, their last catches long gone. Salted ats had turned brittle; fruits were a luxury only the privileged could afford.
"Please, I need a healer… do you—"
His words barely left his lips before they flinched and scattered, abandoning their posts as if he carried so unseen curse.
A frown tugged at Northern's brow.
'What the hell is wrong with these people?'
They were hollowed out husks—gaunt, starved, their faces carved by sleepless nights and the slow erosion of hope. Hunger gnawed at their bellies, but fear had already devoured their souls.
n and won who once bartered in silk and gold now scavenged through rubble for anything of value. Shopkeepers guarded their stores like fortresses, so demanding impossible prices for their final wares, others hoarding in silence—waiting for the mont when all order shattered.
Children no longer played. Their laughter was a relic of a world before the blockade. Now, they clung to their mothers' skirts, their eyes too hollow, too knowing for their age.
Desperation festered like an open wound. Whispers of looters and thieves slithered through the alleyways, their desperation as sharp as the knives they clutched. So betrayed their own for a slice of bread. Others clung to their last shred of honor with white-knuckled fists.
The city's guards still patrolled, but their movents were sluggish, their eyes dull. Their once-polished armor had lost its shine. Their weapons, ant to defend against horrors beyond the walls, now felt more like symbols of futility.
Even they knew—swords wouldn't save them.
"Hey!!"
Northern's voice thundered through the narrow street, but no one flinched. No one turned.
They just kept walking, their dull eyes locked forward, moving like lifeless husks.
Northern grimaced, cutting across another street.
Then—out of the shadows, soone erged from an alleyway. Short, cloaked, face obscured.
A low voice rasped through the air.
"Oii, young man. Ya lookin' for a hea—"
Northern's eyes widened in pure shock. That voice—he knew it.
"Hao?"
The cloaked figure halted mid-sentence. Slowly, almost cautiously, he pulled back his hood.
A weathered face peeked out, eyes squinting in disbelief.
"By all the lifeless stars—how in the hells is my employer here?"
Northern frowned.
"I should be asking you the sa thing. What the hell are you doing… wait." His gaze flickered around, realization dawning. "This is a trade city. I guess it makes sense that you'd be here."
He exhaled, his grip on Roma tightening.
Hao studied him for a beat, lingering before he finally responded.
"We found a link here in Lithia," he said, voice edged with sothing unreadable. "I've been here for the past two months, trying to secure a deal with him. I finally succeeded—then the blockade happened."
The dwarf trader fell silent, his sharp eyes sweeping over the ruins of the city before settling back on Northern.
"Lithia's doom is ringing its final bell," Hao muttered. "So no—not now, not here. Let's get you sowhere safer first."
His gaze flickered toward the unconscious woman in Northern's arms.
"Co with , Employer."
He turned, moving without another word.
Northern followed, his steps steady but his mind in turmoil.
Lithia hadn't fallen to the monsters. Not yet. But it might as well have.
He wasn't sure how long Lithia had been cut off from the rest of the world, but the city didn't look like it needed fangs and claws to kill it.
The blockade had done the job just fine.
Even though the walls still stood, Lithia was already dead.
Hao spoke as he led Northern away, his voice carrying its usual lilt of mischief.
"Oh dear, is that woman a missing piece of your story? You wear worry like a shroud, and I've never seen you haunted before."
Northern lingered on the words for a mont, then scoffed.
"Missing piece of my story? That's a poetic way to put it."
Hao shrugged.
"Oh! I've been drinking deep from the traders' chalice—bartering, haggling, and mastering the fine art of taking without looking like a thief. And that clone? Stars above, he's evolving like a beast on the hunt! He's got more tricks than I do now! Employer, my gratitude could fill an auction hall."
'Ah… that's right.' Northern's thoughts flickered back. 'I gave him a clone with my old life's mories.'
A small smile pulled at his lips as he nodded.
"I'm glad he's been of good help to you."
Then, after a brief pause, his voice dropped lower, more urgent.
"Is there a healer around here? Anyone at all?"
Hao fell silent.
He didn't answer imdiately. Instead, he kept walking, leading Northern toward a large, weathered building—Lithia's city hall.
Then, his voice rang out.
"There is, Employer… but I'm not sure if you'd like him."
Northern's gaze sharpened. A pale, almost weary smile ghosted his lips as he narrowed his eyes slightly.
"Huh… and why wouldn't I? Whoever it is, I desperately need them right now."
Hao didn't answer right away. There was sothing strange in his eyes—a flicker of unease, sothing unspoken pressing against the weight of his words.
He reached the city hall and knocked twice, a dull thud against the thick wooden door.
Then, with a deep exhale, he turned back to Northern, his expression wry.
"Wrangling my grudges took longer than I'd like to admit," he muttered. "Turns out, even if I loathe the bastard, I can't ignore his usefulness. The weasel wriggled his way into necessity, and now I'm stuck tolerating his smug, resourceful hide."
Hao winced in visible irritation, shaking his head as if ridding himself of a bad taste.
And just as he did, the door creaked open.
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