The sun beat down on the back of Azrael’s head. After several days of travel, he had finally reached the mountain chain that formed the first ring. Though nowhere near as tall as the mountains of the second ring, where he had made his home, they were still fairly steep.

With the hot midday sun blazing brightly and a distinct lack of taller trees near their higher windswept peaks there was little shadow for him to utilise, either for [Shadow Step] or to escape the sun’s heat.

Azrael had left the main road, as the number of people travelling along it had increased. Many travelled inland, while many more travelled out, making use of one of the few passes through the first ring. Azrael, deciding to avoid the ever-growing crowds, had decided to split of late yesterday.

His decision meant that he had to take a harder route, climbing up and across the mountains, instead of passing through them. Still, he felt that his decision to the trek through the mountains had been worth it, even if just for the view.

Below him, illuminated in all its splendour by the early summer sun, was a patch work of verdant fields, lush forests and rolling green hills. In the very center of it all, a massive lake encircled an island.

It was the cradle of civilisation, the starting point of the whole game. Even now, the white spires and many fortressed walls around the entire island made for a grand scene. It was by far the largest proclamation of human engineering and architecture that he’d witnessed in the game. Every single village, fort and city that he’d passed through so far could all fit comfortably within its confines, with plenty of space to spare.

Long stone bridges connected the island to the lake shore, before roads shot off from it like spokes of a wheel. The most bustling of these roads connected to the few passes through the first ring, while others connected to villages dotted throughout the lush lands. The only dampener on the scene was the thought that it was all under the control of the Holy Empire.

Still, it showed the ingenuity and tenacity of the players. While the largest city in this game was a far cry from the breath takingly large intergalactic empires, and continental cities in other games, it was early game yet. In under a year the players had managed to put together a city that would have taken a few hundred years to build in medieval times. It was no doubt aided by the use of skills and magic, along with the free labor of hundreds if not thousands of players.

So, while nothing overly impressive at first glance it was still a mark of dedication in the early stages of this game. And the city, just like people’s skills and magic, would only grow until it no doubt equalled or rivalled those in other games.

Taking a few more minutes to rest and admire the view Azrael finally set off again, using carefully controlled bursts of [Air] to take large jumps down the mountainside, before using pillows of [Air] to arrest his descent and start over again. While the technique itself wasn’t sustainable with his mana pool it was enough to help him get down the mountain to where the trees began again. From there he transferred back into using [Shadow Step] and racing towards Nova Lux and all the dangers it might hold.

Racing towards the city and the crowds Azrael felt anxiety starting to build up in his stomach. Whether this was due to the thought of entering enemy territory, or the thought of having to mingle with uncountable people he wasn’t sure. Either way, it was inevitable as he sped towards the bridges of Nova Lux.

In the end it took him another entire day to reach the bridge at the lakeshore, even when utilising his skills to their current maximum. What he didn’t expect was that his first trial wasn’t in the city, but before it.

Like himself countless hordes of people also wanted to enter the massive city. With the bridges being the only way to cross the lake, it meant that every single person and their grandmother, aunt, dog, cow and horse was lined up on the road leading to the bridge.

Unable to see an alternative Azrael joined the slow-moving line, enduring the seemingly endless press of bodies and cacophony of voices. Still, one brawl, four arguments and several hours later Azrael finally reached the front of the line. It was here, with his temper wearing thin, that he encountered his second challenge for the day.

“Halt Beggar!” A guard cried, imposing their spear in front of Azrael.

Azrael felt a tingle of energy emanate out from the guard, passing through his soul. Like always he had his soul spark covered, making him a appear as a simple NPC. A check with soul sense let him know that all four people guarding the entrance to the bridge were players, with an average of two levels in [Spearman] and another three in [Guard].

Azrael turned a weary eye on the man blocking his way and wondered whether it was more of a hassle to deal with this guy now, or just to kill the four of them and deal with the consequences later.

Realising that murder was a good way of being noticed in enemy territory Azrael instead focused on the guards. All four of them were dressed in white clothes and polished silver armour. A golden sword and crown, the symbol of the Holy Empire, was imprinted above their chests. It was only after a few second that Azrael registered what the man had said.

“Beggar?” he asked confused.

Why a beggar? The likelihood of someone calling him a beggar was even less likely than the chance of them recognising him as an ex-Holy Guild player. Why would they…

Azrael followed the man’s gaze and looked at his clothes. Ah. They were in tatters.

His clothes, once gifted to him by Zen at the fort were beaten and torn from his fights with Mors. The articles of clothing were also graced by a liberal coating of dust, which had accumulated on them since he’d last washed them in a small creek a few days ago. He supposed he did look like a beggar in that respect.

“I’m not a beggar” Azrael tried to clarify “I’m just a traveller passing through”.

“And I’m the Holy Saint!” the guard guffawed.

The neighbouring guard gave his fellow a quick prod, shutting him up. Both of them looked around, as if suddenly afraid of someone overhearing them. When nothing happened, they both relaxed and the first guard turned back to speak to Azrael, a sly look growing on his face.

“But no, seriously, let’s say I believe you, do you have any way to prove it?” the guard asked, bringing his thumb and pointer finger together in the universal sign for money.

Azrael could only look at the men. Were they asking for a bribe?

When he didn’t answer, the second guard’s eyes narrowed and whispered into the first guard’s ear. Immediately after both of them stood looking at him suspiciously. Had they recognised him? Did this other guard somehow notice something that gave him away? Azrael cautiously summoned a small stone blade, which he hid in his palm and strengthened with [Reinforcement].

“Those are elf garbs” The first guard said certainty “You’re a symp”.

“I’m a… simp?” Azrael asked.

Azrael had no clue what this guy smoked before his shift, but whatever it was it was strong. Did magic mushrooms exist in this world? How magic would magic mushrooms get in a world with actual magic? Azrael shuddered at the thought.

“We’ve got an elf sympathiser here!” guard two cried, bringing over the last two guards. Amongst those approaching was the man who seemed to be their leader. His levels were higher, his gear was slightly better and the other guards all seemed to defer to him.

“Where are you from?” The guard captain asked.

Azrael decided to comply. He wasn’t quite sure what was going on, but the faster these guys were happy, the sooner he could get into the city. Either that or the ever-growing line would grow restless enough for another brawl to break out. Already there were growing murmurings of discontent.

“The End Forest in the West” Azrael answered.

The guard captain looked at him with an unreadable expression.

“A man in Elven robes, disguised as a beggar, coming from the east, claims to have come from the furthest reaches in the west. You know how that sounds?”

“How?”

“Suspicious.”

The four guards levelled their spears at him, causing Azrael to sigh. It wasn’t as if they would believe him if he told them that he’d been teleported, buck naked, across the entire known world by a god.

The Guard captain raised his voice for all to hear.

“By the responsibilities vested in me by the Saintess and the Holy Empire, you are now placed under suspicion of terrorism, falsification of identity and lying to officials. You will not resist and accept a full interrogation and check by the Holy Order, until proven not guilty. Any attempts to resist or escape will be seen as admission of guilt and acceptance of all charges.”

Azrael could only look at the four guards pointing spears at him. Somehow the guards had managed to go from dumb to dumber in the brief span that they’d stopped him for. First, he wasn’t allowed to enter on accounts of being a beggar. Then he was accused of belonging to some sort of elven rebel group and then it went to full blown terrorism!

Actually, the bigger problem was who’d decided that these guys were in charge??? It was a fantasy game, not some sort of war simulator.

With a snort Azrael fell backwards, away from the spearpoints, while simultaneously super charging and discharging half of his mana pool. Barely a second later he remerged from a shadow, as a massive explosion of golden fire blew up in the face of the four guards. If they were lucky, they would survive. If they weren’t… well, it was a game, right?

He was sure that they would be more than happy lay down their lives in order to protect ‘their’ land.