Chapter 62: Gate

Rael opened his storage ring and checked the contents one final time.

[Nightfall Armor — Uncommon]

[Ironfang Short Sword — Common]

[Oakwood Bow — Common]

[Minor Health Potion ×5 — Common]

[Steel Fang Dagger ×2 — Common]

[Windstep Hunter Shoes — Common]

[Beef Jerky ×20]

[Local Map ×1]

The modest collection had still cost him twenty gold coins—two hundred thousand credits in Titan terms. Health potions alone had taken a painful share of the total. He closed the ring, left the noise of the bazaar behind, and started walking toward the outer wall.

The wall did not simply rise. It dominated.

From a distance it already looked immense. Up close it became something closer to a man-made mountain. Dark stone blocks, each larger than a carriage, stacked higher than any tower in the inner city. The surface was scarred by old monster attacks and repaired with newer, smoother sections that still failed to hide the sheer age of the structure. Watchtowers jutted outward at regular intervals, tiny against the wall’s bulk. Standing at its base, Rael felt the same smallness he had felt the first time he stood beneath the Blackthorn family estate as a child—only stronger. The wall made the people moving beneath it look like insects.

The gate itself was a tunnel cut through that mountain of stone. The opening was wide enough for four heavy carriages to pass abreast and tall enough that even the largest barbarian-class awakeners did not need to duck. Twin portcullises of blackened steel hung ready to drop. Mana crystals embedded along the arch glowed with a steady white light, feeding the defensive formations that kept the gate from becoming just another weak point.

Hundreds of people flowed in both directions. Hunting parties returned with bloody canvas bundles and battered armor. Fresh groups headed out with clean gear and nervous energy. Supply carriages rattled through under heavy guard. In the middle of the traffic stood the royal knights of Solaria, unmistakable in their polished white plate. Only their faces showed. They checked papers, collected fees, and kept the line moving with the bored efficiency of men who had done the same job for years.

Rael joined the outbound queue. It moved faster than he expected. When his turn came he stood before a knight with a white-and-black beard and a completely bald head. The man’s eyes flicked over him once.

"Business?"

"Hunting. I want to go outside."

The knight studied him a moment longer. "First time. Why aren’t you with a party?"

"Is a party required?"

"Not required. Strongly advised for the first few trips."

"I want to go alone."

The knight gave a short, dry laugh. "Lone wolf, is it? Suit yourself. Try not to die too quickly. Fee is one hundred silver—yearly pass."

Rael paid without comment. He disliked the man’s tone, but he understood it for what it was: routine rather than personal malice. The knight scribbled on a thick slip of paper, stamped it, and handed it over. The dates ran from today to the same day next year.

"Move along. Come back alive if you can manage it."

Rael stepped through the tunnel. The temperature dropped the moment he left the open plaza and entered the thick stone passage. The far end framed a slice of open land under the twin suns. He kept walking.

Just outside the gate, a small group of five had stopped to argue in low voices.

"Our mage still isn’t here," a broad-shouldered young man said. He carried a round shield and looked irritated. "He promised he’d meet us at the wall."

A girl with a short spear clicked her tongue. "We waited twenty minutes already. He’s not coming."

"So what now?" the archer of the group asked. "We can’t go out short a caster. Last time we nearly lost half the party because we had no range."

The leader, a lean young man with a practical short sword and calm eyes, exhaled. "We look for a replacement or we cancel. I’m not taking us out under-strength again."

He glanced toward the stream of people still exiting the gate. His gaze landed on Rael—solo, newly geared, moving with the careful awareness of someone who had never set foot beyond these walls before. The leader stepped into Rael’s path and raised a friendly hand.

"Hi. Name’s Kira. We’re short a mage for today’s hunt. We’re all still new, but we’ve got one successful trip under our belts already. You looking to join a party?"

Rael stopped. The offer was reasonable. The composition of the group looked balanced. Few months ago he might have accepted without thinking. Now the memory of the First Realm rose unbidden—Nathan, Alex, Suzy, Lila. Especially Lila. The weight of those losses still sat in his chest like a stone and the weight of betrayal from Suzy who was Aurelia still there. He can’t trust anyone after that experience and he had no desire to carry new names into the same kind of danger.

"I’m not a mage," he lied.

Kira blinked, clearly having sensed the density of mana around him. "Could’ve fooled me. Still—any role you’re comfortable with, we can make it work. Extra blade or extra bow is better than nothing."

"No."

Kira’s polite smile tightened a fraction. "Can I ask why?"

"I don’t want to explain."

There was a short silence. Kira stepped aside. "All right. Your choice. Good luck out there."

Rael walked on without answering. Behind him the party watched his back for a few seconds.

"What’s with the attitude?" the shield-bearer muttered.

The archer shrugged. "Probably thinks the outside is a stroll. If he makes it back at all, he’ll be begging for a party next time."

Kira shook his head once. "Leave it. He’ll learn the moment he’s alone past the first treeline. Come on—we still need a mage. Let’s see if anyone else is looking for a group."

They turned back toward the gate traffic. Rael kept walking, the massive wall rising behind him like the edge of the world, the open land of Aetherion stretching ahead under the light of two suns.

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