Chương 64: The western Road II

The Sun-Flare Condor dove toward the carriage like a falling star. The sheer heat radiating from its massive, burning wings instantly vaporized the lingering puddles of water on the muddy road. Inside the carriage, Karen let out a terrified scream, throwing her hands over her head and dropping to the floor of the cabin. Bram the driver did not panic. He let out a harsh curse, keeping one hand locked firmly on the leather reins to hold the panicked Ash-Striders steady.

With his boot, he violently stomped down on a raised metal plate set into the floorboard of his driver's bench. The black wood of the carriage instantly responded. A complex web of blue magical runes flared to life along the iron reinforcements of the wheels and the roof. A shimmering, transparent blue dome snapped into existence, entirely enclosing the carriage and the four massive horses.

The Condor let out a deafening screech and flapped its wings, sending a heavy volley of burning feathers raining down like arrows. The flaming feathers slammed into the carriage's blue shield. The impact sounded like heavy rocks hitting a drum. The magical artifact built into the carriage held its ground, deflecting the lethal flames away from the wooden roof, but the blue dome immediately began to flicker.

Thin, spiderweb-like cracks appeared across the magical barrier, and the runes carved into the wood started to smoke.

"The carriage ward is only built to handle basic bandit spells," Silas said quietly, his eyes narrowing as he looked through the window.

"It cannot take a direct hit from a beast of that level." Jack gripped the head of his cane tightly. He watched through the glass window, his analytical mind racing. The temperature inside the plush cabin was already skyrocketing, making it difficult to breathe, even with the blue shield protecting them. The Sun-Flare Condor circled high above the ruined toll station, preparing for a second, much heavier dive. Jack could feel the sheer, suffocating density of the magic rolling off the beast.

It was an ocean of power.

"The magical pressure," Silas muttered, his eyes locked on the sky, rapidly analyzing the threat.

"It is comparable to a Layer One Gold Core mage." The realization hit Jack like a physical blow. For the past few months, he had been the absolute ruler of his valley. He had defeated the Beast Tide, outsmarted greedy merchants, and built a fortress. He also had a mage named Elias, and he had Grim, the giant skeletal wolf. He had started to feel truly powerful. But looking at the roaring bonfire of magic in the sky, Jack realized his new Iron Core was nothing more than a flickering candle.

If he had brought Elias on this trip, the dead fire mage would have been entirely useless here. Even with all of Elias's elite combat instincts and flawless swordplay, the sheer ambient heat of the Condor's golden flames would have melted Elias's preserved flesh into ash before he could even cast a spell to injure the beast. Jack was entirely, completely helpless in this situation. The brutal reality check instantly cured Jack of any lingering arrogance he had developed over the winter.

He was still incredibly weak in the grand scheme of the continent. He desperately needed to acquire high-tier utility artifacts and gather more magical knowledge in the Market City if he wanted to survive. Outside on the road, Silas stood perfectly still. His pristine white and gold robes fluttered violently in the hot wind generated by the giant bird's wings. The blue shield around the carriage shattered with a loud crack as the Condor unleashed a massive, continuous torrent of golden fire directly from its beak.

Silas casually raised his right hand. A massive, invisible dome of highly compressed wind instantly formed over the carriage, the horses, and Silas himself. The golden flames slammed into the wind barrier and washed over it like water hitting a smooth stone, splashing harmlessly onto the ground and melting the remaining rocks of the outpost into bubbling slag. Jack watched closely. Silas was fighting at a severe disadvantage. The Inquisitor was clearly stronger than the giant bird.

He possessed the raw power to tear the sky apart. But he couldn't use his most destructive spells because he had to constantly maintain a defensive dome over the fragile wooden carriage, the mortal driver, the horses, Jack and Karen. If Silas dodged or moved too far away, the carriage would be incinerated in a fraction of a second. However, Silas had one massive advantage: intellect. Most magical beasts, even with magical powers comparable to the Gold Core stage, did not possess high intelligence.

While incredibly smart, ancient magical beasts did exist, they were exceedingly rare and found almost exclusively in certain restricted, deep-wild regions of the Bhawan continent. This Condor was nothing more than an enraged, instinct-driven animal relying purely on brute force. Silas let out a heavy sigh, looking highly annoyed by the inconvenience. He lowered his left hand and aimed it directly at the hovering Condor. Golden light flared fiercely around Silas's arm. Wind usually fed fire, making it stronger.

But in the face of absolute, overwhelming magical density, elemental rules were shattered. Silas's mana violently compressed the air above him into a massive, spinning lance of pure, razor-sharp wind. It shrieked like a falling meteor, radiating a destructive pressure that made the ground beneath Silas's boots crack and splinter. The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

"Fall," Silas commanded softly. He thrust his hand upward. The wind lance shot into the sky. It met the Condor's descending torrent of golden flames and simply tore right through it. The sheer, overwhelming force of the wind lance parted the sea of fire, carving a clear tunnel straight up to the beast. The Condor let out a terrified shriek, but it was too late. The lance of compressed wind slammed into the giant bird's chest. It didn't just pierce the beast; it violently detonated.

A localized hurricane of razor-thin wind blades exploded outward, shredding the Condor's flaming wings and cleanly decapitating it in a single, masterful strike. The massive, headless body of the giant bird plummeted from the sky. It crashed heavily onto the melted slag of the ruined toll station, shaking the ground and sending a cloud of gray ash drifting into the air. The battle was over in less than a minute. Silas lowered his hand.

The wind barrier surrounding the carriage faded away, allowing fresh, cooler air to rush back into the space. Silas brushed a few flecks of ash from his white robes, but as he stared at the fallen beast, a rare flash of shock crossed his sharp features.

"That shouldn't have been possible," Silas muttered to himself, his brow furrowing in deep confusion.

"Its magical pressure was definitely comparable to a Gold Core, and it did not look injured in the slightest. But it died in a single, powerful attack… just like that." Jack watched as the Inquisitor walked over to the massive, bleeding carcass of the bird. The beast was easily the size of a small ship. Silas simply raised his hand, pointing a single silver ring on his index finger toward the carcass. The ring flashed with a brilliant, silver light.

The entire massive body of the Sun-Flare Condor, weighing thousands of pounds and taking up a massive amount of physical space, instantly vanished without a single trace. Jack's eyes widened slightly in shock. He knew about spatial rings. They were magical artifacts that held items in a pocket dimension. But the size of the storage space dictated the price. A low-grade ring that could hold a few sacks of goods was a luxury only wealthy merchants could afford.

To possess a spatial ring with hundreds, perhaps thousands of cubic feet of storage space… the cost was simply astronomical. It was worth tens of thousands of pure Imperial Gold coins.

"Just how rich is this Inquisitor?" Jack wondered, doing the mental calculations. Silas had casually offered him a loan of gold back at the castle, but Jack hadn't realized the absurd depth of the man's wealth until this exact moment. However, Silas did not look triumphant after storing the beast. He stood alone on the road, looking down at the spot where the bird had crashed. His eyes were narrowed, and his face was tight with deep, genuine bewilderment. He looked highly troubled.

A Sun-Flare Condor was a creature of the volcanic peaks. It had absolutely no logical reason to be wandering near a human border toll station, let alone attacking a carriage unprovoked. And now, discovering it was incredibly fragile despite its immense aura, Silas knew something was terribly wrong. Something entirely unnatural had driven the beast out of its territory and hollowed out its true strength. Silas glanced back at the carriage, ensuring Jack was safely inside.

Then, he turned and walked a good distance further down the road, stepping out of earshot. Jack leaned closer to the glass. He saw Silas reach inside his robes and pull out a small object. It was a whistle, carved from dark bone with intricate veins, looking incredibly similar to the one Silas had given Jack back at the castle. Silas brought the whistle to his lips and spoke into it. His face was entirely serious.

He spoke for nearly a minute, giving a rapid, hushed report before tucking the artifact safely back into his robes. Silas walked back to the carriage. He opened the door and climbed inside, taking his seat opposite Jack.

"Drive, Bram," Silas ordered calmly. The driver cracked his heavy whip. The Ash-Striders, still nervous from the smell of the giant predator, neighed loudly but obeyed the command, surging forward and pulling the heavy black carriage safely past the melted ruins of the outpost. Karen once again pressed herself into the corner of her seat, trying to make herself as small as possible.

"Are you unharmed, Lord Jack?" Silas asked smoothly.

"I am fine," Jack replied, keeping his voice flat. He looked directly at the Inquisitor.

"What exactly happened out there? And who were you speaking to on the road?" Silas offered a brief, dismissive smile.

"You do not need to know," Silas said casually, waving a hand as if brushing away a fly.

"I mean, it is not that big of a matter. A Gold Core beast straying this far from the peaks is unusual, but it will be taken care of. A Church squad of a few Silver Core mages will arrive here shortly to investigate the ruins and clean up the area. We are moving on." Jack did not press the issue. He knew a lie when he heard one. The Inquisitor was deeply worried about something, but Jack had his own problems to focus on.

He sat back in his seat, turning his gaze back to the window as the carriage rapidly picked up speed. For the next few days, the landscape outside the window began to change dramatically. They were finally leaving the harsh, unforgiving geography of the northern mountain range behind. The steep, rocky inclines and the thin air slowly gave way to rolling green hills and wide, sprawling plains. The rough dirt paths they had been traveling on transitioned into wide, smooth roads paved with heavy cobblestones.

The temperature became incredibly pleasant. They began to see other travelers. There were long, slow-moving merchant caravans hauling massive wagons of grain, groups of armed mercenaries on horseback, and ordinary farmers walking with their carts. Whenever the black carriage approached, the other travelers quickly pulled over to the side of the road, staring in fear at the giant, red-eyed Ash-Striders pulling the vehicle. No one dared to slow them down.

On the afternoon of the ninth day since leaving the Frost-Grip valley, Bram pulled the reins, slowing the magical horses down to a steady walk.

"We have arrived," Silas announced, looking out the window. Jack leaned forward. Rising up from the flat green plains in the distance was a massive, sprawling metropolis. A towering wall of thick gray stone surrounded the city, easily standing fifty feet high, lined with heavy iron watchtowers. But it was the sheer scale of the place that took Jack's breath away. It was the Western Market City.

It was the absolute economic hub of this side of the continent, a place where fortunes were made and lost in a single day, and where powerful magical artifacts flowed like water. The carriage rolled smoothly through the open iron gates, completely ignoring the long line of merchants waiting for inspection. The city guards took one look at the Church emblem on Silas's carriage and immediately waved them through with deep, respectful bows.

Bram steered the carriage toward a wealthy, quiet district near the center of the city, finally bringing the Ash-Striders to a halt in front of a massive, luxurious stone inn. Silas pushed the door open and stepped out onto the clean cobblestone street. Jack grabbed his cane and followed him. He stepped out of the carriage, taking a deep breath of the warm city air.