As darkness settled in, the city transformed into an entirely new realm. The once-bustling crowds vanished, creating an eerie quiet that was occasionally shattered by the flickering glow of torches bouncing off the slick cobblestone streets. K moved through the twisting alleyways, blending seamlessly into the darkness. The map he held was little more than a hasty sketch—just a vague indication of the way to the western gate and the path heading away from the shore.
He kept to the shadows, his footsteps muffled against the ground. A cold knot twisted in his stomach, a lingering sign of the change taking place inside him—a skill he was still trying to train. Thoughts from the man flooded his mind like an unending river. Though these memories weren't originally his, they had become a part of him, and he was learning to wield them.
The western gate presented a challenge. Even at this hour, two guards were stationed at the imposing, iron-reinforced doors. Behind them loomed a portcullis, a threatening barrier of sharp spikes. A straightforward approach would be risky. K had to consider various factors: the environment, the guards' attention, and the laws of physics at play.
"Just one more hour and I'm free," one guard grumbled, shifting his weight uncomfortably. "My back is killing me."
"Tell me about it," the other guard replied, fiddling with the portcullis mechanism. "At least the captain is off tonight. Last time he caught us not paying attention, we had to polish the whole gate with our bare hands."
From his hidden spot in the shadows, K listened intently. The captain was off duty, the guards were exhausted, and the gate mechanism was routinely checked—this was all crucial information.
He perched himself atop a low roof, looking over a steep street leading to a T-junction about fifty yards from the gate. Halfway down the hillside, an unattended cart loaded with barrels sat, heavy enough to make a significant noise but light enough for him to maneuver.
K closed his eyes, visualizing the scene. He imagined the slope, the weight of the cart, and how the wheels would grip the slick cobblestones. He could calculate the force necessary and the angle for it to travel. He knew he could make it work.
Taking a deep breath, he raised his hand.
Snap. "Domain."
The well-known glow surrounded the space, lending a weighty and flexible quality to everything nearby. He concentrated on the cart, not with the intention of pushing it, but to fine-tune its potential energy. He imagined the brake releasing, allowing the wheels to glide effortlessly over a perfect, frictionless surface.
The cart started to move—a bit slowly at first, but soon it picked up speed in an eerie quiet. It wasn't merely going downhill; K was purposefully controlling its movement, carefully adjusting its descent into an unstoppable rush.
He released his Domain and watched.
As the cart reached the T-junction, it didn't stray or crash. K had adjusted its path at the critical moment, sending it hurtling sideways like a wooden missile, crashing into the gatehouse wall with a resounding crack of splintering wood and shattering stone.
"What the hell was that?" one guard yelled, running toward the wreckage.
"Sabotage! Sound the alarm!" the other shouted, scrambling for the bell rope.
Perfect.
With their focus diverted to the smoldering wreck of the cart, K slipped off the roof and made his way toward the now-unprotected postern gate, a small pedestrian entry in the main wall. Though it was barred, the lock was basic—just a common tumbler mechanism.
He slipped through the narrow doorway and into the darkness beyond the city walls. Freedom tasted of cool earth and untamed grass.
He kept running, refusing to look back. The path before him glimmered faintly under the moonlight, winding inland towards the forests and mountains. He successfully put a mile between himself and the city before the sound of alarm bells faded into the night.
Then he heard it—the rhythmic thud of hooves.
One horseman, maybe two, raced across the fields, aiming to catch up with him.
K ducked behind a low stone wall, peering through a narrow gap. One lone rider, clad in light armor and accompanied by a hawk perched on his arm, was galloping hard. The scout had spotted him.
There was no way to outrun a horse on foot, and hiding was out of the question; the moon was simply too bright. He knew he had to face the situation head-on, but he couldn't rely on brute strength—he had to think strategically.
As the horseman approached, silhouetted against the brightening sky, K emerged from his hiding spot. The scout unsheathed a short sword, ready to strike.
K waited for the perfect moment, just as the heat of the horse's breath brushed against his face, he snapped his fingers.
"Domain."
The field around them shifted. He didn't touch the horse or its rider; instead, he redirected the horse's momentum.
The animal surged forward, a powerful force propelled by speed. K merely altered the direction of that force. He took its forward motion and spun it ninety degrees.
The horse didn't falter; instead, it suddenly bolted sideways, as if it had completely lost its straight-line course. The unexpected move was so abrupt that the rider couldn't respond quickly enough. One instant, he was leaning into the gallop, and the next, he was launched off the horse, which plunged into a nearby ditch.
The scout hit the ground hard, his sword flying from his hand. Stunned and disoriented, he lay groaning in the dirt.
K released the Domain, and the world snapped back into its usual form.
He walked over to the downed scout, who looked at his horse with a mixture of shock and disbelief in his eyes.
"What... what did you do?" the man stammered, propping himself up on one elbow. "That's not... that's not Elemental. Not Bestial either."
K remained silent, observing the scout closely. This man knew about Seeds, which indicated he was more than just a city guard.
"That essence type... I've never seen anything like it." The scout asked, a slight tremor in his voice.
K didn't answer. Instead, he picked up the man's sword. It was a sturdy blade, well-balanced. He weighed it in his hand, his mind racing with options.
"Stay down," K instructed, his voice low but firm. It was the first time he had spoken to anyone since the market.
"Wait," the scout called as K turned to walk away. "The master's looking for you. There's a reward..."
K paused but didn't turn around.
"More silver than you've ever seen," the scout pressed, desperation creeping into his tone. "And safety. The Empire protects valuable talent."
K glanced over his shoulder at the scout. "The Empire is also a cage."
He continued down the path, no longer in a rush. He walked with a steady, purposeful stride. The sword felt comfortable in his grip. The name "K" resonated within him.
He was no longer just a slave.