Unholy Player - Chapter 524 Approaching Enemies (Part 2)

Chapter 524 Approaching Enemies (Part 2)

“The last time I saw this thing, I was still a Rank 3 Practitioner…” Arvyn muttered beneath her robe, her voice weak in a way that had nothing to do with fear and everything to do with scale and curiosity. “Now I’m a Rank 4, but I still feel so small looking at it. Who built that, and for what reason?”

No one answered. They stayed silent, because whatever the truth was, it didn’t change anything. Even for people who had lived hundreds of years, it was lost knowledge, surviving only as half-remembered theories passed down over time, never proven.

Some said it was built by an ancient race that once lived in the Outer Region, a monument to their culture. Some said it was the corpse of a Rank 7 Spark, or something even higher, that had died long ago and left only its lifeless shell behind. Others said it was built to stop a monster from escaping, a seal disguised as stone.

Whatever the truth, the wall wasn’t just a barrier between the two regions. It was also the only connection between them, a single route everything had to funnel through.

On both sides of the passage, the abyss stretched endlessly. It looked as if the entire land had been deliberately cut apart by a gigantic sword, leaving only that structure behind, the only piece of land serving as a bridge, with nothing but emptiness yawning beyond its edges.

They kept traveling without stopping for rest, except when they had to change their worn carriage or replace mounts that had spent all their energy.

After another month of that steady grind, they finally arrived in front of the structure, close enough to see the rough texture of the black stone and the way it swallowed the light around it.

A small city stood before it, clustered at the approach like it had grown there out of necessity. Buildings packed the area, and people moved through the streets.

It wasn’t crowded, but it wasn’t empty either, the streets holding a constant low hum from people who lived on waiting.

“Stay low-key. If anyone asks, just say you came back to visit your old place.” Kaelor spoke to Sevrak from the back, his tone making it clear it was not a suggestion.

According to their knowledge, the most powerful person here was only Rank 4. Still, raw power wasn’t the danger. The real threat was the possibility of their identities leaking to major families and organizations, which would draw unwanted attention.

Sevrak nodded slightly and guided the carriage along the uneven dirt road, keeping the pace controlled as they entered the settlement and let the city swallow them into its routine.

Buildings lined both sides. They looked old and crude, some empty and some occupied by other Practitioners, with patched roofs, worn doors, and signs of constant repairs that never seemed to finish.

There were no mortals here. Everyone was a Practitioner, with the weakest being Rank 1, yet even the weakest carried themselves like they had learned survival the hard way and never forgot it.

All kinds of people gathered in this place, each with their own background and their own reason for being trapped here.

Some were vagabonds, cast out from their families and races for their crimes. Some were runaways who had lost everything to their enemies and needed a place to disappear. Others were born weak and believed they weren’t suited for their region because of their weak talents.

Almost everyone was here for the same dream. They wanted to escape the Midlands and enter the Outer Region, where life was easier and where they could start anew.

But passing the wall was not easy. That was why they waited here for so long, hoping that one day they might get permission to pass the gate, watching every new arrival with quiet envy and every departure with silent hunger.

There was an organization in the place that acted as both the authority and the gatekeepers. They kept order between the two sides and were the ones who decided who could pass the gate and who wouldn’t. Their authority was accepted for a simple reason: no one else could replace them, nor was there anyone in their right mind willing to.

Without even knowing what that enormous wall truly was, taking control of it and bearing responsibility for it wasn’t something anyone would accept without proper, convincing reasons.

As the 3-person carriage moved past the crude establishments, they reached a large clearing, the city’s noise seeming to fade behind them.

The black stone wall stretched across everything ahead, sealing the view to both sides. At its center stood the only opening, the gate, the only passage to the Outer Region, tall enough to swallow whole caravans without looking strained.

“It seems easier to pass the gate than I thought.” Arvyn studied the massive opening, then the empty space around it. Seeing no one there to stop them, she spoke with suspicion, her gaze searching for the trap she expected to spring the moment they committed.

Then her attention shifted upward. She sensed a presence approaching before it was visible. “And here they come.”

From the sky, 2 figures descended slowly. One glided down with wings covered in colorful feathers. The other stood on a flying stone brick.

They resembled each other closely. Their features were scaly and lizard-like, clearly from the same race, and they looked ancient too, the scales on their faces slightly dulled, as if time had worn away their shine.

Nevertheless, age did not hide what they were. Their Rank 4 aura could be felt clearly, pressing down with calm authority as they came to a stop in front of the travelers, looking them over like people who had seen every kind of lie. “Travelers.” They looked the carriage over. “State your reason for passing.”

In front of the figures, Sevrak, along with the other two Blood Path followers, felt their confidence waver for a second.

They weren’t sure how strong the two gatekeepers were, but they knew one thing. They would rather not find out through a fight.