After confirming that the building was indeed a police station, Rosacer walked up to the entrance and stepped inside.
Inside, the walls were thick, built to withstand even the worst possible attacks. The pillars were reinforced as well, far thicker and stronger than ordinary supports.
There was a large hallway connecting the main hall to the interrogation rooms, holding cells, and other administrative offices.
The air felt heavy and stale. It seed the small ventilation windows were not enough to provide proper circulation.
Rosacer straightened his posture and walked up to the police officer seated at a desk. Beside him, his rank and na were written in bold letters: Inspector Sandy Shore.
"Officer, I would like to file a complaint against soone," Rosacer said as he stood before the desk.
Slowly, the officer raised his head from the docunts he had been signing. "What is the reason for the complaint?" he asked in a low voice.
"An attempt to murder," Rosacer replied, his voice stern.
The officer’s eyes widened slightly. He imdiately opened a file and retrieved a form. "What was the reason behind the attempted murder?" the officer asked as he prepared the paperwork.
He then handed the form to Rosacer, gesturing for him to fill in his details.
After a proper back-and-forth during the interrogation, the officer took the completed form from Rosacer. He asked Rosacer to remain at the police station for the day for security purposes, then moved toward the back of the building to alert a team to investigate the matter.
A team of seven officers quickly received the order and left the station. One among them appeared to be a mage, identifiable by the artifacts secured to his uniform.
One artifact in particular caught Rosacer’s attention.
It was a locket with a dark, heart-shaped pendant. It looked almost like a lover’s charm, sothing ant to be sentintal rather than dangerous.
Rosacer inwardly asked the system for details about the heart-shaped artifact.
Within a second, the system displayed a window.
[Juliette’s Broken Heart]
A pendant of fractured faith and love. Its origin traces back to a mythical empire in the eastern continent, where the folklore of unrequited love is still told.
[Class: Ignorant]
[Abilities:]
• False Promise: Makes promises to get a rough glimpse of the future if the promise were to be kept.
• Abstract Lie: Allows one to lie to the fate of a chosen individual.
[Owner: Kacie Morning]
Suddenly, another window appeared, drawing Rosacer’s attention.
[Caution: Conversing with Fate is not ant for the conscious mind.]
"So it is basically a useless ability..." he remarked inwardly. He did not find the artifact worth much and felt genuinely perplexed as to why an officer would wear such an item. It seed like a waste, perhaps even sothing that could interfere with a more important artifact. Still, he did not allow his thoughts to wander for long.
As he shifted his attention to the other officers, they all appeared strong, and among them was one familiar presence.
It was the officer who had interrogated him when he first entered the city.
His presence was, as always, stern and commanding. He looked like the leader of the group.
From the side, Rosacer quickly turned his gaze away. He did not want to draw that man’s attention now.
’Not a chance,’ he muttered inwardly.
The team of seven soon departed. There was a brief delay as they waited for another officer. He looked lazy, the only one wearing his uniform improperly, and it was clear he had arrived late.
In the marketplace, a man had already dismantled his tent and shop. He shoved the board bearing the na Dua’s Antique Shop into a crate, then loaded the rest of his goods onto a pull cart and began hauling it away.
Transportation in Vermis was done mostly on foot. Only the wealthy made use of storage magic or transportation-oriented spells, such as weight-lightening or size-reduction enchantnts, to move their belongings. The narrow passages made it difficult to build roads wide enough for animal-drawn vehicles or mage-stone powered machines.
After packing all his belongings and dismantling the shop, Kirata pulled the cart toward his destination: the harbor. He intended to take a ship to another city, Takas Kila, located to the right of the capital of the Caesar Kingdom, Casonev.
The narrow roads and the constant bumping of passersby irritated him, but he quietly ignored it, careful not to create any commotion. He did his best not to attract the attention of the guards stationed nearby.
He made himself look like a small rchant rely transporting his goods. To sell the illusion, he had deliberately bought poppy at a cheap price and placed it among his cargo, suggesting that he might be traveling from the Western Continent toward the Eastern markets.
Kirata was nearing the harbor, his steps clattering against the stone road as the sea breeze struck his sunlit, golden face. The salty wind dried his lips, and he grumbled inwardly as he increased his pace.
Suddenly, a voice called out, "rchant!"
He turned to face the source. An officer stood there, his presence commanding and stern, followed closely by six others, one of them lagging behind.
Before they could draw any closer, Kirata grit his teeth in frustration and dashed toward the harbor, abandoning his cart without hesitation.
"Stop! Stop!" the officers shouted.
The lazy officer, far behind the rest, yelled, "Murderer! He is a murderer!"
The surrounding crowd turned frantic at the cry. The sudden commotion sent people running in every direction, the harbor road erupting into chaos.
Using the commotion, Kirata vanished from their sight.
He slipped sideways into the surge of bodies, lowering his head, twisting his shoulders just enough to beco another fleeing civilian. Crates toppled. A fisherman cursed as his baskets spilled across the ground. Kirata vaulted lightly over a fallen rope coil and ducked beneath an awning just as an officer burst past, eyes locked ahead, searching for a target that no longer was there.
By the ti the officers reached the spot where Kirata had last been seen, he was already gone.
"Split up!" the commanding officer barked. "He is heading for the ships!"
The team quickly burst into different direction searching for Kirata.
Instead, Kirata erged near the lower docks, his breath steady despite the sprint. The genetic gift he received from his clan ensured he wouldn’t tire easily.
He tore open the fabrics of his beige garnts and discarded it into a pile of netting, then grabbed a stained sailor’s jacket from a nearby crate and pulled it on without slowing.
He did it all in seconds, fast and sharp-witted.
Then, in an instant, his posture shifted.
Shoulders slumped.
Steps faltered.
He beca a weary laborer, worn down by the day’s work.
A bell rang, signaling the ship’s departure as its anchor was about to be pulled.
Harbor guards barked orders while dockworkers hurried out of the way. Sailors swore as officers pushed through, shoving aside anyone who dared to slow them down.
Kirata walked in between them, posing as them.
He passed by all the other sailors and porters, but none recognized him as different.
Soon, he blended into a group of porters hauling barrels, matching their pace for three steps before slipping between two warehouses. The mont he was out of sight, he climbed a narrow stair fixed to the side of the structure, boots striking wood once before he adjusted and moved silently.
From above, he saw everything.
The seven officers fanned out across the docks, each heading toward a different vessel scheduled for departure. One boarded a rchant brig. Another leapt onto a river cutter. Two more forced their way onto a passenger ship bound east.
The mage stood frozen, chanting as her pupils turned white, a pendant clenched tightly in her fist, her eyes darting as if searching for a presence or pleading with so unknown force.
"He is not on the ships," the mage said, uncertainty creeping into her voice.
"Search them anyway," the leader snapped. "If he boards, he cannot have gone far."
Kirata watched from above as they wasted precious minutes.
Then he moved again.
He descended on the opposite side of the warehouse and followed the waterline, boots splashing softly through the shallows. At the far end of the dockyard sat a small supply skiff, unmarked and unattended, tethered loosely to a post.
To his surprise, there were no guards around, there was just another unremarkable vessel among dozens.
Kirata untied it and pushed off without delay.
The tide carried him outward, slowly towards the vast seas that stretches beyond the horizon.
He crouched low, letting the skiff drift beneath the shadow of a larger ship.
Above him, officers rummaged through holds and cabins, toppling crates and shouting, yet no one responded.
When the bells rang again, signaling a false lead found and discarded, Kirata was already beyond the outer pylons.
"Useless mage," he scoffed, not bothering to turn around as he kept his gaze fixed on the ocean.
By the ti the officers regrouped and realized their mistake, the sea had swallowed every trace of him.
The ships departed one by one.
Far beyond the harbor, Kirata straightened his posture, the sea wind brushing his face once more.
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