Parting ways with the Converella family group as they both entered the city, Axel wandered through the streets, taking his time to explore and observe everything carefully. The city felt alive—bustling with activity, voices overlapping in a rhythm that echoed through the narrow stone lanes.
The streets were paved in a neat concrete pattern, surprisingly similar to the ones back on Earth. Each tile fit snugly against the other, forming winding paths that stretched between rows of stone houses. Didn't expect to find something this modern here, Axel thought, his eyes scanning the ground before drifting toward the buildings around him.
His gaze wandered over the various structures—some were residential homes with small gardens or laundry fluttering from balconies, while others were shops with wooden signs hanging above their doors. The smell of freshly baked bread drifted from a nearby bakery, mixing with the faint scent of smoke and spice from food stalls further down. In the distance, he could see a fountain—a wide, circular one made of marble—its water glittering under the sunlight as children splashed and laughed around it.
He could also see people sitting along the roadside, selling small goods laid out on mats. Trinkets, fruits, vegetables, herbs tied in bundles, and even a few rusty-looking weapons were displayed. The chatter of merchants calling out prices mixed with the clatter of wagon wheels and hooves against the cobblestone.
Now where can I find a lodge or tavern to stay for the day? Axel wondered, rubbing his chin. I should probably ask someone for directions since I can't read the letters of this world yet. I need to find someone who can teach me how to write properly.
His eyes then caught a large wooden board standing a few meters away. Judging by the size and the number of people gathered around it, he guessed it was a notice board—probably near the city square. He wasn't wrong; even from afar, he could hear murmurs of excitement and worry coming from the small crowd.
Walking closer, Axel noticed several papers pinned across the board. Each had a drawing of a person—some in full armor, others in cloaks or robes—and beneath each picture were lines of text and a large number, possibly a bounty or rank.
Axel approached one of the onlookers, an old man with a wrinkled face and a faded brown cloak. "Hello, if you don't mind," Axel said, keeping his tone polite, "could you tell me what this gathering is about?"
The old man turned toward him, his eyes dull but sharp with experience. "Ah, that," he said with a tired sigh. "It's just a notice from the city watch. One of the Ten Commandments was seen near the outskirts, by the opposite gate. The guards are warning everyone to report immediately if they see any trace of them."
"The Ten Commandments?" Axel asked, raising a brow. "Can you tell me who they are? I'm actually from a different country, so I don't really have any idea who these people are."
The old man frowned deeply, the wrinkles on his face creasing further. "The Ten Commandments," he began slowly, "are the cruelest order of Holy Knights of Valvera. They once served under one of the Cardinal Holy Knights—Lord Verges Klein—but they betrayed him." He paused, his voice lowering as though speaking of a forbidden tale. "They killed him, and not just that—they struck down the king himself, leaving him gravely injured. Since then, they've been declared traitors and are wanted across the entire kingdom."
Axel's expression hardened slightly, though inwardly he sighed. An entire order of rogue holy knights, huh? Just what I needed… more trouble to avoid.
Though this made him wonder—what exactly was a Holy Knight? At first, he thought it was something like a paladin-type figure, the kind you'd see in fantasy games or stories—shiny armor, divine sword, fighting for justice and all that heroic crap. But perhaps it was something much more complicated than that. The way people talked about them, the tone of reverence mixed with fear, it didn't sound like they were just holy warriors. And with the mention of orders, it meant these knights must also be divided into several rankings.
I have to get stronger… I can't keep being weak. He sighed quietly, lowering his head a little as the thought burned in his chest. It's good that the man with the broken blade was reasonable. If he hadn't been calm and level-headed, then things could've gone very differently. Axel's expression hardened slightly. If I ever become unfortunate enough to encounter those Ten Commandments, I should at least have enough strength to fight back… or to survive.
He exhaled sharply, shaking the thought off. I have some platinum and gold coins in my belt pouch, taken from those knight corpses, so money isn't an issue for now. But still… I should probably get myself registered as an adventurer.
Looking back at the old man beside him, Axel asked, "Can you tell me where the Adventurer Guild is?"
"Oh, that? Sure," the old man replied, raising a wrinkled finger to point down the street. "Take the turn on your right, walk straight, then take a left—you'll see a big building with a wooden sign hanging out front. That's the guild."
"Thank you," Axel said with a faint nod. Pulling his cloak slightly tighter around his shoulders, he turned and began walking in the direction the old man had pointed. The sound of his boots echoed softly against the stone-paved street as the bustle of the city swallowed him again, his mind already drifting to the challenges ahead.
....
"Mr... what's your name?" the little girl asked softly, her voice trembling as she clung to his shoulder. Her small hands gripped his tattered cloak while he carried her, his steady footsteps echoing faintly along the dirt road.
"The name's Evanstone," the man said, his tone calm but distant, eyes fixed ahead. "And yours?"
"Maria!" she replied with a small smile, her voice weak but hopeful.
"Maria, that's a nice name," Evanstone said, a faint grin tugging at his lips. For a moment, his eyes softened—just a little.
However, he soon stopped in his tracks. His expression darkened. Before him stretched a grim sight—dozens of corpses littered the road. The stench of blood hung thick in the air, metallic and suffocating. Some of the bodies were human, their armor marked with the crest of the Converella Family, dented, cracked, and darkened with dried blood. Others were orcs, grotesquely mangled—some missing their heads, others sliced cleanly in half, limbs strewn across.
The earth itself was scarred, blackened in places as if scorched by magic or fire. Swords and spears lay broken, shields split in half, banners torn and dragged through the mud. Crows had already begun circling above, their cries sharp and shrill.
What happened here? Evanstone wondered, his brows furrowing. He glanced around until his eyes caught sight of a group of men not far off, busy packing goods into carts. Crates and barrels clattered as they worked, clearly eager to leave this place behind.
"Excuse me," Evanstone said as he walked toward them, his voice steady. "Can you tell me what happened here?"
One of the men—an older trader with dust on his clothes and a sweat-streaked face—looked up. "Oh, this?" he said, gesturing lazily at the battlefield. "The orcs attacked us. The guards from the Converella Family fought them off…"
"So they managed to defeat the orcs? Surprising," Evanstone said. His tone was even, but disbelief colored his expression.
In his mind, those guards didn't look remotely capable of surviving a full orc raid. Even with superior numbers, they would've been butchered—dog-walked by the orcs. It didn't make any sense, he thought to himself.
The old man shook his head. "Not them, sir. There was a knight—a stranger. Jumped right into the fight! Killed the orcs like they were nothing. Must've been one of those Holy Knights!"
Evanstone's eyes narrowed. "A holy knight, you say? Did he, by any chance, wear mismatched armor and wield a silver sword?"
The old man blinked, startled. "Yes! That's him! The same one—he's the one who saved us all!"
Evanstone gave a slow nod, his expression unreadable. He turned away and resumed walking, Maria still in his arms. The sounds of wagon wheels and murmured voices faded behind him as he walked down the blood-stained path.
That guy… he didn't lift a finger to protect the little Maria earlier, yet he risked his life to save a crowd of strangers. Strange. Very strange.
They continued in silence until they reached the crossroad.
Evanstone slowed his pace and asked quietly, "Right or left?"
"Right," Maria answered, pointing ahead. "Then straight, and another right."
"There's a medical store that way too, right?"
"Yes," Maria nodded faintly. "There are some."
"Good," Evanstone said, exhaling. "Then let's get some medicine."
The two walked on, their figures growing smaller as the dying sun stretched long shadows across the road, the faint cries of distant crows echoing behind them.