William wandered around the mansion for several minutes, looking for any of his companions. He knocked on several doors, checked the library, peeked into the gardens, and even asked the staff, hoping to find someone to explore the city with. But there was no trace of anyone. It was as if they had all disappeared at the same time, like they'd agreed to leave him behind. He sighed, grabbed his coat, and decided to go out alone.
As he passed through the gates, something he had overlooked became clear: the mansion was completely isolated. There were no nearby houses, no busy roads, no walls or neighbors. Just a vast stretch of trees, manicured grass, and white stone paths fading into the horizon. During his arrival, the sheer size of the property had overwhelmed him so much that he hadn't noticed its location.
After almost an hour of walking through green areas and a few low hills, William finally began to see signs of urban life. The city of Caerlin unfolded before him like a vivid memory of a more primitive past: stone streets, fabric canopies, street stalls packed with goods, and merchants shouting deals. It was a full-blown medieval market.
He passed a blacksmith hammering red-hot swords, a group of children throwing flour bags at each other, and a stall where a tall woman sold reinforced leather breastplates. Further ahead, an old man offered scrolls with supposed ancient spells, and a couple of medics traded herbs and extracts in tiny vials.
With an empty stomach, William bought a hot pastry stuffed with spiced meat—sweet and spicy at the same time. He devoured it while curiously observing everything around him. It was another world. One where, for the first time, he felt free.
Eventually, he found a small, slightly run-down shop. The sign was crooked, the door creaked when opened, and the inside smelled of dust and old wood. The shelves were piled with ancient figurines, wooden boxes with rusty locks, and trinkets that didn't seem worth anything at first glance.
Then, Ángel's voice alerted him:
—Alert! A wave of magical energy has been detected from the red pendant.
William turned his head. In a corner, half-hidden behind a pile of junk, hung a black-chained necklace with a red gem. It looked aged, but something in its center shimmered with subtle intensity. Pretending disinterest, he strolled through the shop, browsing casually before finally approaching the counter.
"How much for the necklace?" he asked.
The old man behind the counter eyed him with a sharp look, as if he knew exactly what had just happened.
"You've got a good eye, young man. That necklace was brought here years ago by a sailor who never returned to port. They said it was magical, but no one's been able to identify it. You're the first to take an interest. I'll let it go for a hundred gold coins."
William raised an eyebrow.
"One hundred coins for something you don't even know how it works?"
"Ah!" the old man laughed. "Kid, we don't just sell for function here. We sell for story, for rarity... and for instinct. Yours brought you here, didn't it? That's worth gold on its own."
"Could be worth shit wrapped in silk."
"Or it could be an ancient artifact from a sunken kingdom, waiting to awaken. Look closely at that gem. See how it pulses—almost like it's alive? No trinket does that. You don't need to know what it does... you just need to be the first brave enough to use it."
William frowned. He hesitated. The old man spoke like a true back-alley merchant—smooth with words, convincing without needing to lie. Still…
"Ángel, analyze his voice. Is he lying?"
—33% falsehood detected. Unable to determine which part is false.
With a faint smirk, William tilted his head.
"Seventy coins."
"Hahaha! No, no, no. You're stealing the bread from my mouth, kid. Seventy won't even cover the bribes I'll need to pay the thieves who might rob me for selling it!"
"Then good luck waiting for another customer with 'instinct.' Or someone who doesn't notice the dust on it," William said, turning toward the door.
"Alright, eighty-five! But only because I like you!"
He came back. They argued for another five minutes until settling on a deal: eighty coins, along with a small guarantee that if he didn't use it within a month, he could return it for half the price. William agreed. As he took the necklace, the doorbell rang.
Five men entered. Well-dressed, arrogant, with the kind of posture only a noble carries naturally. One of them—tall, blond, chin raised so high it looked like he saw the world from a cloud—froze when he saw the necklace in William's hand.
"Put that down and get out," he said, tossing a bag of coins onto the counter. "Consider that compensation."
He reached for the necklace directly. William didn't react instantly. It had been a long time since someone treated him like garbage, and the shock lasted a few seconds. But just as the noble's hand was about to touch the pendant, William moved.
With a smooth flick of the wrist, he deflected the intruder's hand and threw the coin pouch straight into his face. It hit dead on. The noble fell flat on his back, nose bleeding.
"You bastard... how dare you…!"
The others drew their swords. They moved in formation, clearly trained.
"Do you know who I am?! I'm Larkys Rednaviz, descendant of the great Rednova! You filthy mongrel, you struck me! KILL HIM!"
All six attacked at once. The first lunged for the chest; William twisted his torso and disarmed him with a blow to the elbow, followed by a wrist twist that snapped the arm completely. Another swung from the side. William ducked, grabbed him by the waist, and slammed him onto a shelf, knocking the air out of him.
One tried to stab him from behind. William heard his breathing and stepped sideways, driving his elbow into the attacker's jaw, followed by a spinning kick that knocked him out cold.
The fourth and fifth came at him together, one from each side. William caught one's arm with a judo grip and used him as a shield, causing the fifth to accidentally skewer his ally. Then, with surgical precision, William broke the last one's arm with a clean lock and dropped him beside the others.
Only Larkys was left standing. He was pale, pants soaked, legs trembling.
"You... what do you want? Just leave me alone…"
He didn't know it, but ever since the flag battle, William exuded a killing aura so dense it felt like a blade brushing your throat. Girls avoided him on instinct. No average mortal could withstand that pressure.
William raised his hand.
SMACK!
The slap was so brutal Larkys flew several meters, crashed into the door, and it burst open before he hit the ground, unconscious.
William gave one last glance at the group of nobles. They all stood frozen, drenched in cold sweat, as if a beast was deciding whether to devour them or not. Without another word, William turned and left the shop, the necklace in his possession.