The blazing afternoon sun lit up the cobbled path as Auren and Riven finally reached the outskirts of the Central Capital. They had covered nearly 300 kilometers in just under eight hours, thanks to their relentless pace and Auren's occasional use of wind magic to give the wagon a magical push.
Now, the massive Central Gate stood tall in front of them — a towering structure carved from black iron and enchanted stone, protected by a dozen guards in silver armor, their spears gleaming under the sun. A long queue of travelers, merchants, and adventurers waited to be let in.
Auren and Riven climbed down from the wagon, grabbed their belongings, and handed the agreed silver to the wagon owner, who nodded with a satisfied smile.
"You both are insane. I've never made that kind of time before," he said, then drove his wagon away.
Auren and Riven, dressed in light armor with their adventurer IDs hanging from their necks, walked toward the gate. From a distance, they noticed something off — the guards were yelling at common folk, extorting them for extra coins, calling it a "tax". But this tax wasn't mentioned anywhere in the adventurer manual or Central's posted rules.
As their turn came, Riven stepped forward confidently and showed his ID.
One of the guards, with a thick mustache and crooked nose, grunted.
"New rules. Two silver coins per person for entry," he growled.
Riven frowned and reached into his pouch to pay.
But Auren, standing just behind him, grabbed his wrist tightly.
"Keep your damn coins in," Auren muttered darkly, stepping forward with a cold smile.
"We know the fucking rules," Auren said calmly. "There is no 'entry tax.' Stop acting like dkheads with badges."
The guard scowled, his jaw clenching. "You two think you're smartasses, huh? You wanna get smacked for two cheap silvers, you broke adventurer scum?"
Another guard behind him added, "Act tough now, we'll shove your magic IDs up your—"
But before he could finish, Auren's fist, cloaked in red-hot mana, slammed into the first guard's jaw.
CRACK.
The man lifted off his feet, flipped in midair, and crashed into the stone wall behind him with a sickening thud, sliding down unconscious.
The second guard rushed in with his spear drawn, but Auren raised his left hand, fire dancing across his knuckles.
"Want a matching concussion?"
Without waiting, he punched, sending a fiery shockwave that threw the second guard back, hitting the wall even harder. This time, the wall itself cracked, and the man fell like a sack of bones.
Silence fell at the gate. People in the line stood frozen.
Auren looked at the remaining guards, who were now stiff and silent.
He smirked, eyes glowing faintly.
"So... tell me again about that two silver coin tax?"
The captain gulped. "N-no need, s-sir. Please proceed. Sorry for the inconvenience."
Auren dusted his gloves off and turned to Riven.
"Let's go. And you lot—" he added, glaring back at the guards, "—if I hear you leeching money from one more person, I'll burn that gate down and slap a toll on your fucking souls.*"
The crowd parted as Auren and Riven passed through the gate like storm gods.
Inside the Central, the streets were wide and full of magic lights, levitating carts, noble buildings, and bustling activity. As they walked into the heart of it all, Riven shook his head, grinning.
"You've changed, Auren. Day by day, you're becoming something else," he said.
Auren smirked. "I'm just shedding the weak skin, Riven. I spent too long hiding it. Now... the world gets to see the real me."
Riven laughed. "Yeah, and apparently the real you punches taxes."
They both laughed
They walked side by side through the chaotic heart of the city, navigating their way until they found a quiet corner—an old stone ledge near an abandoned fountain, where vines coiled through the cracks and dust told stories of a forgotten time. Auren slumped down on the edge, his body still but tense, like a storm bottled tight.
Riven settled beside him, exhaling slowly.
"So," Riven finally said, nudging him, "we're here. Central. Now will you tell me what the hell this secret mission is?"
Auren didn't look at him. He just stared ahead, jaw clenched, voice flat.
"…To kill my father."
Riven jerked back, blinking in disbelief. "The fuck did you just say?! Are you high, or just fucking insane now?"
The words hit hard, but Auren didn't flinch. Instead, he turned, slowly, and this time Riven saw something rare—his eyes weren't burning with rage or glowing with power. They were broken.
"No," Auren muttered, his voice cracking under the weight. "I wish I was mad. I wish this was some twisted hallucination. But it's not…"
His hands balled into fists, trembling. "My mom… she died crying, Riven. Crying for someone to save her. And it was him. My father. He's the one who killed her. I was just a boy… and I couldn't do a damn thing."
Riven's mouth hung open, stunned. His anger faded instantly, replaced by cold shock. "Auren…"
"I don't want to do this. I have to," Auren whispered, a single tear sliding down his cheek before he quickly wiped it away, jaw tightening. "She deserved justice. Not a grave filled with silence."
Riven sighed heavily, placing a hand on Auren's shoulder. "Damn… I didn't know, man. I'm sorry. I just thought this was another one of your insane stunts. But this… this is different."
They sat in silence, the noise of Central becoming distant background noise, like a forgotten dream.
Finally, Auren stood, his voice cold again. Focused. "Tonight, we find a place to stay. Tomorrow… we start the hunt. I don't care what it takes. I'll drag him out of whatever hole he's hiding in."
Riven stood too, nodding slowly. "Then I'm with you. Whatever happens… we finish it together."
They both turned and started walking deeper into the Central district, their figures swallowed by the crowd—but carrying a vengeance strong enough to shake the city itself.