19~ Unwilling to be Oppressed
Enter Here
“Hey you two, stop right there! Where are you coming from?!” Just their luck, Dillin and Yimi couldn’t even leave the Furnace City territory before being stopped by a few patrolling Empire soldiers.
Dillin inspected their uniforms; these weren’t the elite Imperial troops from the capital, likely just a local militia.
“Sir, we’re from Coleman Academy. Both of us are students there, on holiday to relax in this area.” Dillin wisely disclosed his origins, knowing full well that if he could pass them off as outsiders from Coleman, the soldiers would be less inclined to hassle them.
“Students from Coleman, huh? Sorry for the inconvenience, but could we see some ID?” the soldier pressed on.
“Of course.” With a nod, Dillin handed over his Coleman black card. The soldier took a moment, then signaled for them to wait. Soon, a middle-aged man with slightly graying hair approached, donned gloves, and carefully examined the card.
“Young man, you’re Coleman’s champion?” The man’s eyes widened slightly after inspecting Dillin’s student card, and his demeanor softened with newfound respect.
“Yes.”
“The prodigy godson of Coleman,” the middle-aged man mused aloud. “Such young talent, truly impressive.”
“Your praise is too kind.”
The man handed back the two student IDs to Dillin and Yimi.
“Everything checks out, genuine Coleman Academy students. Let them pass.”
“As you command, Captain,” responded the soldier, unfailingly polite, granting them passage with a simple apology. “Routine check, hope you understand.”
“Captain, too kind.”
“By the way, young man, haven’t chosen your specialization yet, have you?” the man inquired out of the blue.
“That’s correct.”
“Do you have any preferences?”
“Still weighing options.”
“Ah, allow me to recommend the University Scholar program. A prodigy like you skipping this route would be quite the waste.”
“The title of Godson is reserved for those who understand ancient and modern wisdom alike. Naturally, the Scholar path suits you most of all. Everything else? Purely side roads. If any professor tries to sway you towards something else, don’t believe a word they say—it’s the fool who believes them.” The old man chuckled heartily, speaking with great confidence.
“Especially avoid the Sorcery route. No, no, that isn’t for a Godson. That’s absolute nonsense,” the old man continued, warming up to a chat with Dillin.
“…” Yimi frowned ever so slightly but remained silent, mentally categorizing this elder as overly chatty.
Dillin nodded along awkwardly, already sensing this guy as an outlier among the Imperial forces.
“May I inquire, sir, what is your name?”
“Ah, just call me Uncle Gran. Don’t be formal. Heck, we’re practically classmates; you might as well call me senior,” the man joked heartily.
“Did you also attend Coleman Academy?”
“Sure did, but not quite as illustriously as yourself. To be honest, I barely managed to graduate without much to show for it.”
“By the way, you two are heading to Korrinet City, right? Not too far from here; our army’s based out there. If you need anything, find our commander. Oh, word from the front: avoid Mosso City and Furnace City. Those cities have been plagued by heretics. Don’t worry though, the capital has dispatched elite forces to quell the disturbance.”
“…”
“What’s wrong?” Seeing the awkward silence, Gran asked.
“Uncle Gran, Furnace City… it’s fallen.”
“What? A week-old report maybe? From what I hear, the capital’s forces should be en route by now, so they’re likely in the process of clearing the heretics.”
“No, it’s not a week-old report. Yesterday’s.”
Gran fell silent, deep in thought. “Where did you get this?”
“We just came from there.”
“That’s… odd. If reinforcements were lacking, the Empire’s forces should have sent riders to request backup. They haven’t shown up. Could they have retreated to the capital?”
“They never got the chance to send riders.”
“Destroyed? Impossible. Those were elite capital forces!”
With decades of military experience, Gran had never heard of any heretic group capable of standing toe-to-toe with the Imperial army, let alone wiping them out entirely.
“Young man, is this true?” His expression turned serious.
“Yes, it is.”
“So, the heretics still hold Furnace City?”
“Not just hold… Furnace City itself is gone.”
“Vanished? You mean the heretics seized control?”
“No, I mean it physically doesn’t exist anymore.”
“…” Gran’s face turned grim as he took a long, steadying breath. “Thank you for this vital information.”
“Private, report this to the battalion commander. Inform him: the heretics in Furnace City are out of control, and the capital’s forces may be lost. We may need to intervene.”
“Roger that.” The soldier saluted smartly, mounted his horse, and rode off.
“Uncle Gran, you said to avoid Mosso City. Has something happened there too?”
“Old news, alas.” Gran shook his head, pulling out a cigarette. “For centuries, the Empire’s been battling these hidden heretics who just keep popping up like mushrooms after rain, despite all our best efforts. It’s relentless.”
“These ordinary folks dabbling in heretical practices act as though they don’t fear d*ath, just causing chaos wherever they pop up.”
“We’ve done studies, and these heretics aren’t linked at all. From the oldest sages to the youngest children, even those with no criminal history can be these hidden heretics. Normal people leading normal lives end up turning monstrous. It’s quite the enigma.”
“Mosso City’s been a recurring problem. While most other areas with heretic activity are quelled eventually—send in the capital troops and done—Mosso’s different. These heretics have controlled Mosso and its surroundings for half a year now, and Empire forces can’t break through.”
“Heretics hold a city?!” Dillin was genuinely surprised.
“Yes. These particular heretics are strange. They don’t destroy or burn the town and massacre people. Scouts report that the surrounding farms and hydraulic works are all intact, and even show signs of regular use. It’s like they’re making the city their base and spreading their lies.”
“Their lies?” Dillin inquired.
“Go take a look at Mosso’s city wall, and you’ll see. Though I suggest you two rein in your curiosity. You aren’t likely Goddaughters, are you?”
At that moment, a commotion drew their attention—a man being restrained by two soldiers tried to break free, determined to march away from the city.
“Ugh, it happens again.” Gran groaned, clearly vexed.
“What is that?” Dillin looked over at the man struggling to rise despite the soldiers holding him down.
“Remember that talk of ‘lies’ earlier? This poor man’s one of the affected ones.”
“Please calm down, sir! Once you go, there’s no coming back!” the soldiers urged.
“I told you, it’s my choice, none of your business! My wife and children are still in there!”
“Gentleman, I understand how you feel, but we will liberate Mosso City as soon as possible to reunite your family,” Gran reassured with a strained expression.
“Liberate? What liberate? You people are trouble! Let me go, I’m going to Mosso City!” The man shouted angrily.
“Ah, this…” Gran sighed deeply.
“Sir, your family inside won’t be saved by you going in—it’s like walking straight into the jaws of a lion,” Dillin spoke up.
“What do you mean ‘the jaws of a lion’? It was our whole family’s decision to go to Mosso City! Only I got caught when climbing the wall and got dragged back.”
“Gentleman, we’re here to save your life!” The soldiers declared firmly.
Dillin was impressed at how much better the soldiers were here than those from Furnace City or the capital.
“Don’t you care about my life if you won’t let me go to Mosso City?” the man was unyielding.
“Is this gentleman a local?” Dillin asked.
“No, he’s not from Korrinet. He’s a traveler, stayed at a local inn recently.”
“So he specifically wanted to go to Mosso City?” Dillin was puzzled.
“It’s not uncommon,” Gran sighed. “Korrinet’s the nearest settlement to Mosso, so over the past months, many people from all sorts of places, influenced by the heretics’ lies, have been making their way secretly to Mosso City.”
“I’m not influenced!” the restrained man snapped. Eyes fixed on the seemingly endless road ahead, longing for Mosso City’s gates, as if merely glaring at them would transport him there.
“That’s what everyone influenced says. Not very convincing.”
Gran took up the task of counseling, employing psychological arguments to dissuade the man from continuing, while Dillin drifted into thought.
Yimi watched Dillin and roughly guessed what was going through his mind.
As the soldiers’ focus waned, Dillin and Yimi slipped away toward the city gates and then turned down an unguarded corner. There, Dillin transformed into Tillysha, revealing two vials from ‘somewhere’ under her blouse.
Yimi blinked at the vials still warm to the touch.
“You’ve been carrying those since we’ve left?”
“Wouldn’t it be awkward?”
“Not really, they fit fine.” Tillysha downed one of the vials and went invisible. “Stay quiet in this state—it’s easy to give ourselves away.”
Invisibility actually amounted to more of a sophisticated optical camouflage, still detectable for sharp eyes.
Yimi swallowed hard. She was clutching vials that had been nestled in Tillysha’s cleavage. That four-rounds-away approximation had her blushing furiously.
Yimi uncorked her own bottle and downed the concoction.
They walked along the city’s walls, Yimi following behind Tillysha, carefully listening to the sound of her footsteps for guidance. Outside Korrinet City’s jurisdiction, there were no more soldiers.
Walking out a few more kilometers, the air grew noticeably more damp.
Tillysha’s brow creased; this suffocating feeling was reminiscent of entering Ruglien.
Up ahead, a grand city gate featured a prominent sign that boldly proclaimed:
“For those unwilling to be oppressed, rise against the noble rulers. Enter here.”
Tillysha paused, momentarily speechless. Were these truly the heretics? Could such beings capable of transformation possess such lucid intentions?
“Hey, you two humans down there! What brings you here?” A gruff, yet strangely altered voice shouted from atop the wall.
Tillysha noticed their invisibility wore off. Standing guard, a hulking, blackened figure covered in jagged spikes held a spear, speaking with a disdainful tone upon seeing the two.
“Do you know where you are?”
“To come alone? Noble, I admire your bravery.”
“Wait, what if they’ve come to join us?”
“Join you? Impossible. By looks alone, they’re clearly the daughters of nobles, likely spies even if they pretend to defect.”
“Hold your tongue.” A different yet equally black-skinned monster spoke human words. “Do you think nobles would venture near our defenses alone, without any guard?”
“If you’ve come to defect, come in. Sisters, our city of Mosso welcomes you.”
“Mind the warning though: if you’re spies for the Empire’s nobles, we’ll leave your bodies for the crows.”
